Page 31 of The No Touch Roommate Rule
“It’s big.”
“I know,” I say, biting my lip as I wrap my hand around the burning length, summoning a groan from low in his throat. “But I’m not afraid of the big bad wolf.”
He mutters something that sounds a little like “thank God” before adding, “Fair warning, my balls are ridiculous, too. I’m probably fertile as fuck. You’re going to need to be on all the birth control.”
“It’s covered. IUD.” I stroke him the way I’ve been dreaming about, firm and slow, learning what makes him gasp and what makes him swear. “Now kiss me again, please. Kiss me while you touch me.”
We find a rhythm—his hand between my legs, mine wrapped around him, mouths fused together like we’re sharing oxygen.The changing table creaks ominously with every movement, while somewhere above us, a silent pack of squirrels watches over us like a heavenly host of stuffed rodent BDSM.
And even knowing that…
Even with the strange, medicine-and-candy smell of the bathroom fighting for supremacy with Parker’s summer-in-the-forest cologne, soon, I’m close.
Impossibly, embarrassingly close from just his hand through my jeans. My thighs shake, my breath comes in shallow gasps, and Parker urges me on every step of the way, like the bad influence he is.
“Are you going to come for me, Mack?” he growls against my kiss-swollen mouth as he knuckles the spot that makes me see stars. Galaxies. “Are you going to get off on my hand so I can take you home and get you off with my dick?”
“Yes. God, yes.” I’m gasping now, trembling all over, so close I can taste it. “Just keep doing that… That thing, that…”
Knock, knock, knock.“Hello? Are you almost done already?”
Parker and I both let out a startled yipping sound, then go absolutely still—him with his hand between my legs; me with my fingers fisting his obscene erection. We lock eyes, panting like we’ve run a marathon, a silent decision passing between us.
“Someone’s in here!” I call out, my voice embarrassingly high and breathy.
But fuck, who cares?
This person is going to have to wait a fucking second. Or two.
It’ll only take a second or two…
“Who’s in there? Are there two of you?” the feminine voice demands. “Because if there are, you’d better get the hell out of there. I have a baby with a diaper that’s about to explode and zero patience for perverts in the bathroom right now.”
My eyes go wide. “Baby?” I hiss.
Parker mouths, “Who brings a baby to The Brass Monkey?” looking equally shocked.
“Come on, guys,” the woman calls again, her voice tighter this time, tinged with desperation. “This child’s ass is about to be everywhere. I just need five minutes.”
“Sorry! Just… Just a second!” I scramble off the changing table, accidentally kneeing Parker in the thigh, barely an inch from his allegedly giant balls.
He grunts, stumbling backward.
“Shit, sorry!” I hiss, reaching for him, but it’s too late.
He’s already tripping over his abandoned crutches, reaching for the wall to break his fall, and smashing against the light switch in the process.
The room plunges into darkness, making me suck in a startled breath as something else crashes to the floor.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
“Fine,” he mutters, sounding annoyed.
“Are you sure?” I fumble along the wall until I find the switch and flick it back in the other direction.
The lights stutter on to reveal Parker sprawled on the floor, tangled in his crutches, with the ball-gag squirrel on his back beside him, like a very kinky accomplice.
I can’t help it, my hand flies to my back pocket, whipping out my cell and snapping a pic before Parker can finish warning, “Don’t you dare!”
