Room Mates_The Series

by Kendall Ryan

  What could I possibly say? No. I just can’t control the insatiable desire to fuck your brains out.

  I stared at her, my blood still pumping as I tried to frame a coherent response.

  “If you’re still mad that I took Dylan out the other night without texting, I told you, I’d—”

  “Not Dylan,” I cut in, spearing my fingers through my hair in agitation. “You’re great with her. It’s just . . .”

  With the groan of a man on the edge, I lunged at her, sweeping her into my arms and crushing my mouth to hers. It was the space of an instant, but it didn’t matter. Feeling her lips on mine, the sweet mint of her breath, the heat of her skin, it was all complete perfection.

  She froze, and for a second, I wondered if she would pull away. It would be for the best, and I’d been such an asshole to her, I more than deserved her rejection. But just as I was about to release her, her lips parted and she molded her body to mine. If we went even one step further, I would be completely lost. We needed to talk first, and then?

  Well, I’d see how things played out. I pulled away, the breath sawing in and out of my lungs even as my cock pulsed with need.

  “It’s not your fault, Addison. It’s mine. I’m attracted to you in a way I’ve never felt before. Hell, I can’t even think about seeing you in that bikini without wanting to fuck you senseless.”

  Her breath caught. I was still holding her, feeling the rise and fall of her breasts against my chest, and though her eyes widened, she made no move to step away.

  “And then, after you told me the story about your ex and how he shook your confidence—” I shook my head, trying to loosen the words sticking to the insides of my brain. “All I can seem to think about is showing you exactly how much I want you.”

  She blinked up at me once, then twice, and I traced my thumb along the side of her cheek, willing her to keep looking at me, to give in, to confess what she wanted.

  Electricity crackled between us and I held my breath, waiting for it to ignite a fire. Instead, Addison disentangled herself from me and tightened the knot of her robe.

  “But you’re my boss, Max. I know I haven’t been here long, but I love your daughter and I don’t want to lose this job if things get . . . sticky. So, where does that leave us?” She was practically breathless, her cheeks flushed, and she glanced down at the floor rather than look at me.

  But I was done with that—done with playing cat and mouse.

  I took another step toward her and tucked my fingers under her chin, turning her gaze to me. “I’m your boss Monday through Friday from nine to five. The rest of the time, we’re a man and a woman.”

  She sniffed, pulling her chin away. “You’re not serious.”

  “I am. At night, on the weekends? I’m not paying you for that time. Whatever happens then happens between two people, not a boss and an employee.”

  “And you think it’s that easy to separate it all?” She raised her eyebrows.

  “I don’t see why it can’t be,” I shot back. “We both want this. And it only gets tricky if we let it. We like each other. We respect each other. We’re friends who also want to sleep together. So long as we know that’s what it is, surely we can manage to keep it casual.”

  “Casual,” she repeated thoughtfully.

  “I know what your ex did to you, and I know you’re probably gun-shy after that, but I would never hurt you or make you feel like you weren’t sexy or desirable. Maybe this—” I searched for the right word. “Maybe this arrangement between us would help you feel better about all that. I still meant what I said before.”

  “Max,” Addison said on a sigh.

  “Don’t overthink it. We’re two adults, and there’s no reason why we can’t enjoy each other’s company without it turning weird. Besides, living like this is hardly less weird, right? Tiptoeing around each other like a couple of teenagers with a crush?”

  She pursed her lips, then ran the pink tip of her tongue over her full bottom lip. “Maybe.”

  “More than maybe,” I argued, and I closed the space between us again, circling her waist with my arms. Lowering my face to hers, I kissed her again, slower and deeper this time.

  Fuck, she tasted good.

  She met my lips gently at first, shyly, but when I swept my tongue out, she opened her mouth for me, pushing and pulling along with me as our tongues danced together and our breath became quicker and shorter. My cock pulsed, growing impossibly hard, and I pressed myself against her, wanting her to feel exactly how much I wanted her, how I needed her.

  “I have to think about it,” she whispered as she broke away, gasping. “Dylan has to come first.”

  “I agree. Dylan comes first.” I nodded.

  “So . . . can I think about it? Just for a day. I’ll tell you tomorrow, I promise.” She disengaged from my arms again, her eyes hooded in what I could only hope was lust. “I just don’t want to make a rash decision.”

  “I can respect that. So . . . tomorrow, then.”

  “Tomorrow.” She nodded.

  I backed away, my whole body tense with need, somewhat mollified that she looked as desperate as I felt. If this was what it took, waiting twenty-four hours for a chance to finally touch her the way I’d dreamed of? I’d dig deep and find the patience to wait.

  I made for the door and descended the stairs, careful not to make eye contact with my friends. Somehow, I felt like if I looked them in the eye, they’d know what I was up to and try to talk me out of it, and that was the last thing I wanted.

  If all went well, tomorrow I would finally get to see Addison naked in my bed.

  A rush of need surged to my groin and I crossed my legs at the ankle, desperate to think of something else. Instead, my mind was humming with thoughts of Addison.

  How long had it been since she’d actually been with a man who wanted her? I considered this, but the idea of her being with another man at all had me balling up my fists and trying to change the subject inside my mind yet again.

  I was so caught up that I flinched when Zach and Matt jumped up, cheering as our team rushed into the end zone. I leaped up to join them but my heart wasn’t in it. When we sat again, Zach turned his attention to me.

  “What’s going on with you, man?” he asked.

  I frowned in his general direction. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean you’re acting weird.”

  “I’m not,” I argued.

  “You are,” Matt cut in. “What gives?”

  “Just have a lot on my mind.” I tried to focus on the TV again, but both my friends continued to stare at me, quietly sipping their beers and watching me like I was the main attraction.

  “I think you’ve got nanny on the brain,” Zach teased. “I can definitely understand that.”

  “Shut up,” Matt barked at him. “She’ll hear you.”

  “Exactly,” I said.

  “It doesn’t mean he’s wrong, though,” Matt said. “You’ve clearly got the hots for her.”

  “She’s attractive. So what?” I asked with a roll of my eyes.

  “Other than the fact you live with her?” Matt asked.

  “That’s the least of your problems,” Zach added. “Just look at her. She’s all wholesome and subtly sexy—perfect girl-next-door type. Spells trouble, bro.”

  “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?” I shot back.

  Zach shrugged. “Listen, just, good luck with that, buddy.”

  “No,” I argued. “Spit it out.”

  Zach let out a little sigh. “Fine. All I’m saying is you have this gorgeous woman taking care of your house and your daughter. You don’t just want to fuck her. You’re growing dependent on her, and that means things can only get messy.”

  “Maybe for you it would,” I said.

  “For anyone,” Matt cut in.

  I ignored them both and focused on the game. Soon, they stopped yammering and followed suit, but their words stuck with me, playing in my mind on a loop.

  Ad
dison had said it, and Zach and Matt had agreed as much. Things between us could get very sticky.

  But as my cock throbbed again at the very thought of her soft mouth beneath mine, I knew it was too late for doubts.

  Because if I had a chance to get sticky with Addison?

  I was sure as fuck going to take it.

  Chapter Twelve

  Addison

  There’s a reason he’s still single at thirty-five.

  Ever since Max had left my room a couple of hours before, the words had played through my head like a broken record. It didn’t matter what I said or did to try to convince myself; it all just came back to that. He was ten years older than me. And my boss. It could only lead to trouble. Right?

  Walking around the backyard, I picked up Dylan’s toys and thought over everything that had happened earlier. It had been so quick—in the space of thirty minutes, I’d gone from being almost fired to being promoted to potential casual sexual partner.

  Casual.

  That must be his thing. After all, his tryst with Tiffany had been “casual” before he stopped it. And with Dylan’s mom too. How many women had he been with that way? And how long did it take for him to get bored with them? He’d been with Dylan’s mother for only a few months . . . was that a long stretch for him? Was that what he thought commitment was?

  I glanced down at Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head lying together in the grass, their plastic hands touching in wedded bliss.

  “How do you guys make it work?” I sighed. They looked at me with their lifeless eyes, and I scooped them up into my tote full of toys with a groan.

  Okay, so what if he was a player? He said he wouldn’t hurt me. And so long as I had my head on straight, he couldn’t, could he?

  Because what if he was right? What if all I needed to shake off this whole Greg thing wasn’t to stay away from men, but to feel what it was like to be desired and wanted for the first time in years?

  I pursed my lips and sank onto the bench of the picnic table where stuffed animals from this morning’s tea party were still seated. All the glossy plastic eyes stared at me, and I picked up the teapot, if only to have something to do.

  “I wish this was something stronger than imaginary tea,” I muttered, and then poured myself a cup before offering it to the doll opposite me.

  “He’s a good man, a good father.” He cared about Dylan so deeply that I could feel it when I watched them together. But then, if it didn’t work out . . .

  I stuffed my teacup into the tote, then ushered the rest of the tea party toys along with it.

  How long had it been since I’d been properly laid? Every girl deserved fireworks, didn’t she? Greg had certainly never delivered where that was concerned, and as for the other men in my past . . .

  There hadn’t been much of anyone to speak of. A few short relationships here and there, sure, but nobody real. Nobody who made me want to tear off my clothes and ride him like a rodeo bull.

  Not like Max.

  I’d never even had a one-night stand or one crazy, reckless night. And where had that gotten me?

  Twenty-five and practically a virgin for all the times a guy had made me come.

  I’d always thought it was me. That somehow I was just so bad at sex that I wasn’t capable of getting to that point, but maybe if I gave Max a try . . .

  God, just thinking about his hard cock pressed against me made me shiver.

  I stepped away from the table and yelped when I discovered I’d stepped on a plastic tea set spoon. After stuffing it into the bag with everything else, I strolled in through the back door and set a pan of water on the stove to heat.

  No matter what I decided, it was going to take some time to sort everything out. There was no doubt about that. I’d have to learn to live with the fact that his assistant—the woman he saw every day—had nearly been with him too, along with who knew how many women. That he wouldn’t stay in my life forever. That it wouldn’t be love.

  But for me, it had never been love before. What difference would it make?

  I pulled the items I needed for dinner from the fridge and set them out on the counter. A roar sounded from the living room, but I barely heard it.

  Because I only had twenty-two more hours to decide whether Max was worth the risk, and I had no frigging clue what to do.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Max

  “And an extra-large order of fries. Do they supersize here?” I asked.

  Zach glanced back at me, a stupid grin on his face. “Yeah, we got it the first couple of times you said it, chief,” he said with a laugh. “Burgers, and as many fries as they’ll give us. We’re almost to the speaker now.”

  I stared out the window from the backseat, squinting at the too-bright drive-through sign. Why did it seem like there were two signs? I closed one eye until the second one faded.

  “Maybe a burger too,” I added. “And four chicken nuggets for Dylan.”

  “We told you, it’s the middle of the night, man. Pretty sure Dylan is already asleep,” Matt cut in.

  “Shit,” I whispered. “Did I call Addison? Did I tell her—”

  “We’ve been over this.” Zach sighed. “Matt and I called her before we left the office. She had no problem with you enjoying your birthday having drinks with friends.”

  “And boy, have you enjoyed it,” Matt said with a snort.

  I frowned. Even now, with the edges of the world so blurry, I could only remember bits and pieces of my night. The two of them had shown up at my office door an hour before I usually left, and insisted that I go with them to some shithole of a bar down the street. At the time, I’d agreed because it was just for one celebratory birthday drink.

  But one drink turned into five. Then I lost count as we toasted everything from my thirty-fifth birthday to the quarterbacking prowess of Peyton Manning. The last thing I remembered with any clarity was clinking glasses and chugging a shot in honor of J.Lo’s booty at the request of a howling Zach.

  “You guys are a bad influence,” I complained. I’d told the guys last week that I didn’t want to do anything for my birthday, and not surprisingly, they hadn’t listened.

  “That’s why you like us,” Zach said as Matt, our designated driver, motioned for us to quiet down while he ordered. We pulled up in the pickup window’s line, doubtlessly full of other people who’d been thrown out of the bars at two a.m., and I tapped my fingers against my jeans, a little amazed at the texture of the fabric.

  How did I never notice that sober? They were so soft. Like unicorn fur.

  “I still think you should have gone home with that girl,” Zach said. “She said she was a nurse. You’re going to need one tomorrow.”

  “I need one tonight,” Matt murmured, holding up his hand for a high five from Zach.

  “No, no, I don’t want a nurse. I want Addison,” I slurred, flopping back against the seat with a groan. “She’s got great teeth. Have you ever noticed that?”

  Zach blinked, then Matt reached out the window and then turned to hand me a bag filled with food.

  “Eat up, buddy. It’s for your own good,” Matt said, and I stuck my hand into the bag, not bothering to look inside before I fished out a paper-wrapped burger.

  I peeled away the wrapping, took a huge bite, and savored the meaty, cheesy goodness. I rarely ate fast food, and this was so hot and delicious, I found myself wondering why. I chewed, pausing only briefly to swallow.

  “They’re so straight.”

  “What?” Zach asked, shooting me a look over his shoulder.

  “Addison’s teeth. She’s got a great smile. The other day she was smiling at Dylan, and I was just looking at her like, ‘Whoa, that’s a hell of a smile,’ you know?”

  Zach and Matt exchanged a look, but then Zach pointed to the bag and reminded me again to eat.

  “You’re going to need some water and aspirin when you get home too,” Matt said.

  “Addison will know what to do,” I said with my mouth full. “She a
lways does.”

  “Right.” Zach sighed. “Okay, almost home.”

  We passed the rest of the ride with the guys talking about the nurse who’d hit on me. It was true, she’d been pretty—buxom and brunette with legs that looked like she might have been a dancer. She was exactly the kind of girl I would normally want to tie to my bed and keep there all weekend. But now, when I thought of my bed, I could only picture one woman there, naked on top of the sheets and waiting for me.

  “Okay, we’re here.” Matt popped the car into park, and Zach climbed out to open my door for me.

  “What am I, Cinderella?” I asked. “Get the fuck back in the car. I can walk myself to the door, Prince Charming.”

  Zach raised his eyebrows and barked out a laugh, pulling out his phone. “Right. You got it. But if you fall, note that I’m videoing you, and it’ll be on Instagram inside three minutes for the world to see.”

  I flipped him and his cell-phone camera the bird and pulled myself from the car, momentarily surprised when the world spun around me as I stood.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Matt asked.

  I frowned at him. “I’m fine.”

  “Be careful not to wake the baby,” Zach reminded me in a singsong voice.

  I waved them off. “Go home. I’m fine.”

  Before they could say anything else, I started for my front door and listened as their car pulled away behind me. Without their headlights, it was pretty dark out, but the porch light was still shining. Addison had probably left it on for me. She was so thoughtful that way.

  I fumbled with my keys, then opened the door and stumbled over the threshold. I didn’t remember the door moving quite so quickly before, and it crashed against the wall beside it.

  I winced. “Dammit.”

  A light clicked on in the living room. Addison peered at me through sleepy eyes, a book spread open on her lap.

  “Were you waiting for me?” I asked, trying not to weave on my feet.

  “What? No.” She shook her head. “I fell asleep reading. You look like you had a fun night.”

  Her lips quirked, and I tried my hardest to remember why I wasn’t supposed to cross the room and kiss her face, but nothing was coming to mind.