Page 35 of Triple Play
“But we’re roommates,” I finish.
“Yeah.”
“I’m very good with technicalities.” I flash her my best smile, the one that usually works. “I’m also very good at other things, if you’re interested.”
Her cheeks flush, just slightly, but I catch it.
“What kind of other things?”
Got her.
“Well.” I sit up and move a little closer. “I could brush your hair. I’m told I have very gentle hands.”
“Uh huh.”
“Or I could make you tea. I make excellent tea.”
“Right.”
“Or—” I lower my voice, letting the playfulness shift into something deeper, something real. “I could lick your pussy until you come so hard you forget your own name.”
A flush spreads down her neck, disappearing beneath her t-shirt.
She swallows. “That escalated quickly.”
“Just offering my services.”
“Your services.”
“I’m a full-service roommate.” I’m close enough now to see her pupils dilate, to watch her pulse jump in her throat. “Very attentive to detail.”
“I noticed.”
“So?”
She’s wavering. I can see it—the desire in her eyes battling with the practical part of her brain that knows this is a bad idea.
Say yes. Come on. Say yes.
“We can’t,” she finally says.
My stomach drops. “Can’t or won’t?”
“Both.”
“Why?”
“Because we live together. Because Grant will lose his mind. Because this is already messy, and adding sex to it would make it—”
“Messier,” I finish.
“Yeah.”
“What if I like messy?”
“I don’t.”
“Liar.”
