Page 89 of Roommate
“Yes. God. Harder. Don’t stop,” Roderick chatters as we move together. He puts his forearms down on the bed, changing the angle of our connection. “There. Ungh. God,” he tells the bed. “Fuck.” He turns his sweaty face to check mine. He must like what he sees, because he closes his eyes and smiles.
I’m such a sucker for that smile. “I need your mouth,” I grunt. “Right now.”
“Then push me down already,” he pants. “Take what you want.”
I don’t need to be told twice. I roll us onto our sides, wrapping an arm around his waist, pulling his body flush against mine. All that contact makes my body flash hot. My questing mouth clumsily greets his, and we both groan as lips and tongues slide together in sync.
I can’t move as much in this position, but it’s probably just as well. I already feel like a Fourth of July firecracker with the fuse lit. So I palm Roddy’s cock and start stroking, while I slowly fuck him. We’re communicating only with breaths and tongues now, but I can tell he’s close. I’m past close, hanging on from sheer determination. I coast a hand down to give a gentle tug on his balls, while I pump my hips as hard as I dare. And finally it happens. Rod lets out a shout, and then all his muscles tense at once.
Even before I feel him shoot, I’m there—groaning and shuddering and gasping like a runner crossing the finish line.
At last, I sag onto the mattress, feeling rung out and victorious. “Fuck. I love Christmas.” I come dangerously close to adding, I love you, too. We don’t use those words. But I’ve never felt this way about anyone.
Roddy lies in my arms, breathing hard. “Thank you for trying my latest recipe. I hope we can make it again sometime.”
“Oh, this will be in heavy rotation on the menu.” I withdraw from him and ease off the bed. “Don’t move, okay?” I duck into the bathroom to get a damp cloth for him. And after a quick cleanup, I pull up the comforter when I come back to bed, wrapping an arm around him, because my cuddling game really has improved a ton.
“Are you sleepy?” he asks.
“No.” But that doesn’t mean I want this quiet moment to end.
“What time are we supposed to go to your aunt Ruth’s?”
“We’re due at three,” I say, which is hours from now. Feeling tender toward him, I roll onto his body and kiss him again. I love the feel of his hard body under mine. And I love the way he gazes up at me, smiling. “Did you get enough breakfast?” I seem to remember he didn’t eat much of it.
“Yeah, but I didn’t get enough coffee.” He runs a hand through my hair. “I made a pot and then forgot to drink it when—”
His gaze flicks to the side. He startles and his eyes get wide.
I crane my neck to follow his gaze. But by the time I do that, my cousin Griffin is already turning away from my bedroom door. A beat later, his feet pound down the stairs.
“Oh, shit,” Roddy breathes. “Oh my God. Where did he come from?”
That did not just happen. That did not just happen.
I leap out of bed, as if that makes any sense at all. As if I could undo the scene that Griff just stumbled upon. I duck into the bathroom and turn on the shower. Not waiting for the water to heat, I step under the cold spray and rinse the sex from my body. It’s only fitting that my whole body is covered with goosebumps.
Griffin saw me in bed with Roderick. Holy shit.
I cannot imagine what Griff is thinking right now. I didn’t see the look on his face. Was it disgust? I shiver, and I don’t even know if it’s the cold water or the situation.
Less than two minutes later I step out of the shower to find Roderick standing there, fully dressed. He hands me a towel. “Baby, he’s still out there,” he says quietly. “I can see his truck from the bedroom window. I think he’s waiting for you.”
“Shit.” I have no idea what I’m going to say.
“I’m really sorry,” he whispers.
“Not your fault,” I grunt.
“I know but…” He groans. “Christmas dinner.”
“Yeah.” That only makes the whole thing about a hundred times worse. In a couple hours I’m supposed to look my entire extended family in the eye.
And Griff got an eyeful of me naked on top of Roderick. My day went from terrific to horrific in the space of five minutes.
Cursing, I stumble into my jeans and yank on a shirt. I walk downstairs like a man headed for the gallows. When I step into my shoes and open the front door, Griff is sitting at the top of the porch steps, his back to me.
He doesn’t turn around, and a little bolt of fear runs down my spine. Besides Kyle, Griff is the person I’m closest to. I can’t stand the idea of him turning his back on me.
