Page 31 of Welcome Home for Christmas
Troy shrugged. “I’m not implying anything.”
Allison looked around the room, searching for her shirt and bra, then she remembered how he’d removed them in the kitchen.
Troy stood up and started to walk out of the bedroom.
“Hey,” she called, stopping him in his tracks.
He turned and lifted his brows. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
He winked. “I don’t usually get thanked after pleasing a woman.”
Allison rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Not for that.” Although that had been quite the turn-on. “I wanted you to…you know, have sex with me. I gave you permission.” Hell, she would’ve given him anything in that moment to have him keep on touching her. She couldn’t stop herself. Over a year of nothing except a little man-made tool had left her deficient. “Thanks for, um,nothaving sex with me.”
His brows lowered. “I don’t think I’ve ever been thanked for not giving a woman sex, either.” He nodded, then used the pad of his thumb to seemingly turn off the grin spread wide across his face. A more serious look replaced his playful one. “You needed a release, but you didn’t need me. I know the difference.”
“You could’ve just gone home. I’m fully capable of…”
Troy shook his head. “I’m one of the good guys, okay? But I’m no saint. If a woman begs me to help her out, I’m gonna help her out.”
Allison’s spine straightened. “I didn’t beg.”
“All right, ba—” He stopped himself and gave her a wink. Then he pulled on the doorknob and closed the door behind him, leaving Allison alone in her bedroom to dress. She smacked a hand to her forehead and leaned over her knees on the bed.What the hell had she just done?She tried to muster up some regret. She should one hundred percent totally regret what had just happened. Except she didn’t. Not really. More so, she wanted more of what just happened. Crazy.
She pulled a top out of her dresser, ran a brush through her hair, and returned to her living room. She glanced around, looking for Troy who had apparently gone. His truck wasn’t in her driveway anymore. He’d penned instructions for how to create a code and turn on the alarm system before leaving her. Alone. She should be glad about this. She preferred to be alone. She preferred to orgasm alone.
The orgasm Troy had given her had been so much better than her usual, though. Her gaze caught on the dinner plates still on the table and her clothes still scattered on the floor. Dinner and sex—kind of. Those almost made her believe she was in a real relationship. Troy had even disappeared as soon as it was over, which was a hallmark of her past relationships.
She collected the dirty dishes and carried them to the sink. Then she retreated to her bed because her bones felt like butter after what Troy had done to her. What she’d begged him to do.
Have sex with me, Troy.
Okay, so she’d lost a little of her control. She would just make sure that didn’t happen again. She didn’t plan on seeing Troy before the Christmas Eve party, and there’d be no chance of alone time with her family smothering them. She and Troy would keep their hands to themselves and then they’d be done.
Yep. Done. Finished. Finite.
—
Troy needed a cold shower and a cold beer.
He walked into his fixer-upper, trying not to notice the torn vinyl in his kitchen floor as he walked past it toward the back of the house. This house would keep his hands busy for a long time to come. Not tonight, though. After a full day of work and then going to Allison’s, he was beat. He doubted he’d get much sleep after what had just happened, though.
Stripping down, he stepped into a stream of cold water beating down from the showerhead.
What had just happened?
Allison had been like a switch and he’d turned her on in a way that intrigued the hell out of him and made him want to do it again. And again. He lifted his face to the water, eyes closed, mind on Allison. He’d gone to her town house to help her out, and he’d done so by installing the alarm system. He’d helped her with a much needed release, too. And then he’d left. He’d had to. He knew that if she came walking out of that bedroom with those flushed cheeks and sex hair, he’d be tempted to see if she reacted so easily to him a second time.
Troy turned off the water, grabbed a towel, and dried himself off. Then he wrapped it around his waist and walked into his bedroom to grab a T-shirt and boxers for the night. The house was quiet, but his brain was chattering with noise. It’d always been that way. He got worked up and needed to settle himself down. As a child, that had meant running around and driving his parents batty until he finally collapsed somewhere and fell asleep. His mom would carry over a blanket and lay it on top of him wherever he’d end up, tucking him in for the night. As a teen, he’d learned more self-control. He exercised and used his hands constantly, draining all that extraneous energy, funneling it into something productive. He loved to be productive. Of course, back then, like any teen, he’d struggled with rebellious behaviors. He’d lacked impulse control. The military had helped him get a handle on that.
Troy sat on the couch and thought about Allison again. What he’d done tonight might be considered a bit impulsive, even for him. His phone rang and his mother’s name popped up on screen. Mom’s timing always sucked. Who wanted to talk to their mother when their mind was in the gutter and they still had a hard-on? He took a breath, cleared his head—or tried to, at least—and answered.
“Hey, Mom. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m good. Just checking on you,” she said. It was late, but his mother had always been a night owl like himself.
“I’m staying busy.” Which was true.
