Forbidden Roommate: Her Dad's Best Friend Series Set

by Penny Wylder

  I swear that there’s something addictive in this stuff. I could eat my weight in it. “Wishful thinking,” I say. “I loved reading, and when I decided to open a business, I was taken with the idea of owning a bookstore. It seemed romantic to me. If I’d been smarter, I’d probably have gone with something different. I’m glad it’s turned out well, I really do love this store, and I like that we’ve started to be a part of the community. But it hasn’t been easy.”

  Bryce laughs. It’s a free laugh, easy, the way I remember it from the moments when he was having fun with my family. “No, I don’t suppose it would be."

  We eat in silence for a few minutes, and I can feel it when Bryce looks over me again. When I meet his gaze, it’s appraising. “Did you really move away because of me? I didn’t have a chance to ask you last night.”

  “I mean…” I look away, the night of my graduation flashing into my mind for the second time today. “Yes. I wasn’t running away, I was just...I knew that if I stayed that something would have happened—or I would have tried something again. And at the time, I thought that it never could.”

  “You’re talking about the party,” he says.

  I flush bright red. “Yes. You knew?”

  He smirks at me, which does nothing to cool the blush on my face. “Of course I knew, Katti. It was pretty clear. I’ve thought about that night a lot, actually. Where we might be now if it had gone the way you planned.”

  I shake my head. “I’ll be honest, that night is blurry for me. I was drunk, and I don’t remember what I said to you. But other than my imagination, I didn’t think you reacted to me. Like there was just something, and then it was gone.”

  “God, Katti, I was so hard that night. After you left I had to get myself off three times in order to cool off. If your mother hadn’t walked in at that moment, I don’t know if I could have held myself back. But you were drunk, and I didn’t want you to regret anything in the morning.”

  I rub my hand across my face. “All this time I felt like you thought I was making a fool of myself. But I know this, no matter how drunk I was, I would have never regretted that. I don’t regret what we’ve done.”

  “Good.”

  The way he’s staring at me, I feel like I could talk to him forever and tell him everything. He draws it out of me. “You’re a good listener, Bryce.”

  He takes a bite of fried rice, and smiles. “It’s what makes me a good lover. Whoever my partner happens to be, I listen to what they want and need, especially if it’s their body talking.”

  For a second, my mind flashes to the list of lovers he must have had since I left. As Elle pointed out earlier, Bryce is fucking hot. I doubt he’s been celibate.

  Jealousy rises up like a flare, and I try to smother it. I don’t have a right to be jealous. We weren’t together, I didn’t have a claim to him. But I also don’t want to think about anyone else touching him. Or him pleasuring somebody else with that perfect body of his.

  Bryce reaches across the space between us and takes my hand. “Part of being a good listener is listening when someone isn’t talking.”

  I nod, unsure of what I’d say if I let myself.

  “There hasn’t been anyone else for a long time.”

  I make a face. “Really? You’re like a walking specimen of perfection. I’m not sure how that’s possible.”

  “You forget,” he says, twining his fingers with mine, “that you were not the only one wishing for something that they did not have.”

  He leans forward like he’s going to kiss me, and his elbow knocks the container of soy sauce off the table and onto his pants. Pale brown slacks that the liquid seeps into right away. “Shite,” he murmurs, and I’m on my feet, running to the bathroom getting a wet paper towel so I can clean it.

  It’s only once my hands are already on the stain that I truly realize where it is and what I’m doing. The liquid is right over his cock, and it’s hardening beneath my hands. I slow down my furious scrubbing, and look Bryce in the eyes. They’ve gone dark with awareness and lust, and the air in my lungs completely disappears.

  “How cliché is it if I get on my knees right now?” I ask.

  “I don’t know,” Bryce says. “I think that entirely depends on which story we’re in. Clichés depend on the story.”

  “If I get on my knees and suck your cock, like a classic porn movie.”

  The corner of his mouth tips up even as he pins me with a hungry stare. “Cliché? Yes. But entirely welcome.”

  And I do it. I sink to my knees between Bryce’s legs, fulfilling a fantasy that’s been in my mind for years. I got to taste him last night, but I want more. I want to taste him and explore him.

  Unzipping his wet pants, I free his cock that’s straining through his underwear. I love that it’s like the rest of him—long and statuesque and defined. He’s already hard as a rock under my hands.

  Right now he’s not thinking about anyone else, and I’m going to make him feel so fucking good.

  I start touching him. Not with any other person have I just wanted to savor the feeling of their arousal. I reach down and explore his balls with the tips of my fingers too, feeling the softness there.

  Glancing up, I find him watching me, eyes dark. I can’t help but smile, and I don’t break eye contact as I take the head of his cock into my mouth.

  He groans, head falling back, and that sound does things to my body. Enough that I’m tempted to skip the blowjob and just climb up onto his lap and fuck him.

  But that can come later.

  I love the taste of Bryce. It’s rich and deep and salty and reminds me of him. It has layers, and has that same kind of addictive quality that makes me want to taste it forever.

  Swirling my tongue around the head of his cock, I tease the underside, loving that I feel him jump with every stroke.

  I take him deeper, slowly, only taking a little more of him each time before sucking all the way back to the tip. It takes a long time to reach the base, but it’s worth it to hear the practically feral sound he makes when the tip of his cock slips into my throat.

  Releasing him entirely, I seal my lips to his skin and suck down one side of his shaft and back up the other. Then back down again and underneath, and I take his balls into my mouth.

  I’ve never done this with another person, and it feels naughty and intimate and arousing. The fact that Bryce’s hand immediately finds my hair, just holding on to me, tells me that it was a good idea. I suck one and the other, switching back and forth until Bryce is gasping and his fingers are digging into my scalp.

  It’s then that I take him in again, all the way in one go this time. All the way down. I’ve always been good at this. I like the feeling of taking everything—of being so close to him I can feel the muscles in his stomach move and flex.

  “Katti,” Bryce says, voice rough with sex and need. “I’m so close.”

  “Mmm,” I tell him, and that only makes him groan again. I suck back to the tip and dive back down onto him. Again, and again, faster, fucking him with my mouth and not giving him a chance to breathe.

  I hear when he sucks in a breath and feel it when he tenses, and I pull back in time for him to come across my tongue. His taste is concentrated and deep, and I swallow him even as he spills more heat into my mouth. So much that I almost lose some.

  No.

  I swallow faster, because I’m not going to lose a single drop. Until he’s finished, and he relaxes in front of me, and I clean him off before putting his cock away.

  “Fuck,” he says. Drawing out the word like it might kill him. Reaching out, he catches me by the hips and pulls me down onto his lap. “You’re ridiculously good at that.”

  “I know,” I say. “It’s one of my many good qualities.”

  He tilts my face away so he has access to my neck, and drags his lips across my skin. “Mmm, I can definitely agree with that. Now it’s your turn.”

  “Not yet,” I say. “We still have place cards to make.”

/>   “Fuck the place cards.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t think your sister would appreciate that.”

  “She’s an adult,” he says. “And pregnant. I have a feeling that she would very much appreciate it.”

  I laugh, and stand up even though he tries to keep me sitting. “We’re going to do these, and when we’re finished, you can take me home and have your wicked way with me.”

  I don’t think I’ve ever seen him move so quickly, helping me clear the food off the table and replacing it with the cards and the list of names that I’ll be writing. There honestly aren’t that many, and it won’t take that long. “Besides,” I say, “that was a fantasy I’ve had for a while. I need a few minutes to recover.”

  Bryce stops, stock still. “You’ve had fantasies about me.” It’s not a question, more of a realization.

  “Of course. I’m assuming you had them about me too.”

  “More than I can count,” he says. “I just never…thought about it.” He pulls his chair close to mine as I start on the first of the names, concentrating on the calligraphy in the colors he gave me. “Tell me about them.”

  I want to laugh, but I’m too focused on writing the name ‘Alexandra.’ “Bryce, I’ve wanted you for years. I can’t just tell you every fantasy I’ve had. There are too many. And you’re going to distract me,” I say because he’s leaned forward and pressed his lips to my shoulder.

  “Tell me three.”

  “Three fantasies?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  I take a breath, and sort out my words before I speak. “Because it’s embarrassing. And because not all my fantasies are…okay.”

  “All fantasies are fine, Katti. That’s why they’re fantasies.”

  “Says you.”

  He nods. “I do. Tell me three fantasies. I swear that I’m not going to judge you for them.”

  I bite my lip, fighting the blush. “I will. If you tell me three.”

  “Fair enough,” he says. “I’ll start. I’ve imagined you blindfolded and bound to my bed where I can tease you with anything and everything. Making you squirm underneath me until I finally choose to fuck you and make you come.”

  The breath rushes out of me all at once. I can see it in my mind, like an out of body experience. Myself tied to a bed as Bryce uses ice and feathers and other things to make me moan. I would be very very fine with that.

  I have to clear my throat before I speak, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see Bryce grinning. He knows he’s unsettled me. “Back when I lived at home, and you spent as many nights in our guest room as not, I used to imagine that you would sneak into my room. And you would do every manner of unspeakable, dirty thing to me. But I couldn’t make a sound because if I did then we would get caught.”

  Bryce doesn’t wait, jumping into the next fantasy. “I imagine being at a party with you, and you’re wearing a long skirt. I see me pulling you down into my lap in a secluded corner, and fucking you in front of everyone without them knowing. I love stroking myself thinking about the fact that I’m making you orgasm with an audience.”

  “Fuck,” I say, trying to focus. My body is not cooperating, and I’m wet, wanting, and I’m trying not to shake. “If you want these to be perfect, you need to not make these so hot.”

  “Not a fucking chance.” His hands are on my waist. Wandering up my spine and across my body.

  I move on to the next name and try to find the words. One of my darker, less acceptable fantasies. “I’ve been home alone, and imagined that you would walk in the door and not say a thing. You’d just pull me up from the couch and kiss me hard. Rough. Then you bend me over the back of the couch, pull down my panties and fuck me right there without waiting or asking. Just taking what you wanted. You come all over my ass, and then leave me there, a mess.”

  Bryce’s hands move to my breasts, squeezing through my shirt, teasing my already-hard nipples. They’re sending bursts of heat and pleasure through me, directly down to my clit. I have to stop and steady myself before I grab the next place card. I’m only a third of the way through.

  “I’ve thought about you at work. Bending you over my desk and fucking you in the middle of the day. Keeping your panties so you have to come back and get them. But I keep them hostage, and the price you have to pay is worshipping my cock under my desk—no matter who is in the room with me.”

  My mind is absolutely blank. I feel Bryce’s tongue on my neck, and I turn my head so he can kiss me. He does, and I lean into him. It would be so easy just to give in…but no, I’m going to finish this.

  I get through five more names before I speak again. “I’ve imagined giving you my body for one night. For you to use anyway you like for your pleasure, and I have no say about what you do or if I get to come.”

  Bryce doesn’t say anything to that, but his fingers tighten on me. The silence around us is tense as I write. I like the way the place cards look, and I hope that Marcy will too. She doesn’t need to know that they were written in a sex-induced mental haze.

  When they’re finished, I sigh, flexing my hands. “There.”

  “Perfect,” he says, putting them back together in the box. “I appreciate this, Katti. They’re far more beautiful than what I could have come up with.”

  “I hope she likes them.”

  Bryce pulls me to my feet, and pulls me close. “I hope you know that I like you, appreciate you, and want you for more than just sex, Katti. There’s so much more between us than just that.”

  My heart flutters in my chest. “I know.”

  “Good. That said, your second fantasy is going to happen when you get home. You’ll get there first. Get comfortable, and it will happen.” My body goes liquid at his words, and he has to hold me up, cause my knees definitely go wobbly.

  “Okay.”

  “Tell me exactly what you want.”

  My mind swirls. What do I want. “Rough. Dark. Unyielding,” I say. They’re the first words that come to my mind. “I want you to take me. I’m a willing sacrifice.”

  I watch his pupils dilate. “I can do that,” he says. “As long as you know that it’s not real, and that there will only be one change to your original fantasy.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m not leaving after,” he says. “I’m going to take you to your room, and who knows what happens there? All I know is that I won’t even be close to finished with you.”

  “I don’t want you to go. And I don’t want to wake up alone again.”

  “You won’t. Now let’s go. I need to give you a head start so that you can get ready.”

  It’s my turn to clean up fast, and we’re out of the store within five minutes.

  7

  I don’t know when he’s coming, but my front door is unlocked. As soon as I got home I put the food in the refrigerator and changed. Now I’m wearing all black: comfy t-shirt without a bra, yoga pants, and a lacy black thong that I know for a fact makes my ass look amazing.

  Ursula is locked in the guest bedroom. The last thing I need is for my overly-curious cat to be staring at me while I’m getting fucked over the couch—or worse, take a swipe at Bryce.

  Somehow I can’t bring myself to turn the TV on. I don’t want background noise. Nerves rumble in my stomach. I want this. I’ve imagined it hundreds of times sitting right here. When I thought about it, I was longing for him so much that I wanted him to appear—wanted the spontaneity of it. But knowing that he’s coming, and that there aren’t going to be any words between us first. God, it has me dripping. At this rate, I’m going to need to buy new underwear with how wet I always seem to be around him.

  If we last that long.

  Stop that.

  I have no reason to think that he wants to leave, or that this isn’t something serious for Bryce. It feels serious to me, but even so, I can’t imagine how it will all work out. That’s something we need to talk about when he’s not balls-deep
inside me. And right now that’s really the only part that I’m concerned with.

  Headlights drag across the curtains of my front window, and my heart rate spikes. It has to be him. It’s him, right? The lights shut off, and I hear his car door opening, and the heavy sound of it being shut.

  I listen hard, and hear the footsteps up the walk, and my heart is nearly pounding out of my chest when I see the doorknob turn.

  And then it happens.

  Bryce strides in. He’s wearing the same clothes as he was when I left him just half an hour ago, but his entire demeanor is different—sharper. He shuts the door sharply behind him and strides across the room to me. Those eyes are pure fire and a little bit danger and I don’t resist as he pulls me off the couch and kisses me.

  He has me by the back of the neck, pulling me away, pressing me to that same wall that he cornered me against yesterday. I’m pinned between him and the wall, and his hands roam my body with a brazen possessiveness that steals my breath.

  Fingers tweak my nipple, squeezing my breast almost to the point of pain. He drags his fingers down my side, digging in. I’ll have marks. His lips ravage mine with bruising force, and a needy sound escapes me. The only things in my mind are yes. And this.

  Bryce rips me away from the wall, pulling me over to the couch and bending me over the arm of it, roughly. I notice that he makes sure not to throw me or hurt me. Just rough enough to show me that he’s serious.

  Shoving down my yoga pants, his hands land on my ass, tracing over my cheeks before he spanks one and then the other in rapid succession. I gasp, the pain unexpected and bright and fading into warmth and pleasure along with every other sensation.

  He spanks me again, harder. And harder still. I cry out, the sound completely ignored as he tears the thong from my ass—the fabric ripping—and shoves his cock inside me. He doesn’t have a condom on, the heat and friction of him is glorious. The invasion is sudden and complete and so damn good I can’t breathe. I’m moaning in the couch, sprawled under him, completely helpless to the force and pleasure.