Page 6 of Kissed By My Roommate

CHAPTER 3

ZOEY

I’ve been looking forward to my off weekend for a while and now it’s here. Juniper was true to his word the other day and he didn’t hammer anything else, letting me get the sleep I desperately needed. I don’t know if he did it just to be nice and considerate, but I get the feeling there’s more to it.

There’s always something in the mossy green depths of his eyes when he looks at me, something I desperately want to uncover and explore, like a trail in the woods which hasn’t been used in a long time. I get the feeling the path leads me somewhere magical, but at the same time, what pitfalls would I find on the way? Is it dangerous? Am I safe?

I wish I knew the answers to those questions because my body burns for Juniper. My heart beats faster when he’s around and sometimes it feels like I can’t take in a full breath. I know there’s something between us but I’m not sure if it’s just physical or if it’s something more.

When I step out of my bedroom, thankful I was able to get some sleep today, the bathroom door opens at the same time. Juniper comes sauntering out, a towel slung low around his waist. He doesn’t see me at first as he uses another towel to dry his hair with his head down.

I watch as a droplet of water rolls down his neck, over his collarbone and down his chest. I should not be imagining licking the water from his skin, but I am. I so fucking am.

He always smells woodsy and fresh, but right now, with the steam billowing from the bathroom and so much of his skin on display it feels like I’m drowning in his comforting smell. I know the moment he spots me because his body freezes and his fingers tighten around where he’s tucked the sides of his towel together.

Is he considering dropping it?

I should not be as into that idea as I am. If karma is looking to balance the scales of my life right now, she’d ensure Juniper’s towel is on the floor in the next two seconds. Call it a wardrobe malfunction. Call it intention.

I don’t care.

I just want to see if everything I’ve been imagining is true.

It must be. It would be such a shame if he wasn’t proportionate. Such a fucking shame.

Juniper is a big man. He makes me feel little and dainty which is a difficult thing to do at 5’7”. I’ve had guys tell me I’m too tall for them, that they prefer women who are shorter and more diminutive.

It never went far with those guys, obviously, but I can’t say I don’t understand either. Why would you want some sort of Amazonian woman when there are so many more options out there? It’s not like men imagine climbing me like a tree. Not in the same way I fantasize about Juniper.

He’s the first man I’ve entertained such a thought. He could take me wrapping my limbs around him and shimmying up. The same can not be said for a lot of the men I’ve come across before. There was simply no way they could support me.

This man, though? He’s different.

“You okay, Zoey?” Juniper’s voice is as gruff as ever, but there’s something softer underneath it, a purr almost.

I tear my eyes away from the water droplet, now lost in the soft absorbency of the towel around his waist. It wasn’t the longest journey on record or anything, but it looked like a damn satisfying one. I’ve never wanted to be water more than I do right now.

His eyes are boring into mine when I meet them. Are they begging me for something? I must be imagining things because I’m not sure if this hulking man even likes me.

He crowds me, sure, but it could just be an intimidation tactic. I swear he didn’t want to live with a woman, I was convinced of it when I set up a time to come and see the house. He certainly wasn’t warm when he opened the door, but on the phone he was downright arctic.

I was desperate enough not to care. I needed a place to stay and if I didn’t get my shit together then I would have been homeless. That’s not an option when I need to sleep most of the day to work my night shift.

Juniper’s deep chuckle is abrasive against my mind but gentle against my skin; it’s a strange combination which makes me feel strung out. I’m a second away from launching myself at him, damn the consequences. I can feel it—my body readies for the movement, my muscles coiling, ready to spring into action.

I croak out, “What?”

I think he asked me something, but I’m not sure. I try and hold back the need to touch him, the need to feel him pressed up against me, but it’s difficult. I want it so badly and my pussy aches with the desire flowing through me. It’s all making me feel a little lightheaded.

Before I get the chance to move, Juniper closes the distance between us, his body looming over me. I take a step back even though it’s the last thing I want to do. I’m not sure why I do it; instinct I suppose.

He takes another step and I find myself retreating again. The corner of Juniper’s mouth quirks up into a smirk and I let out a soft gasp, hoping it’s not loud enough for him to hear. It is, of course, and I know because his smirk turns into a full-blown grin.

His green eyes roam over my face until my back hits the wall and a moan slips from my lips. I have a front row seat to his pupils dilating. It’s hot as fuck. I swear he smells more potent than he did a moment ago. Is it simply his proximity or is it something else?

“Zoey,” he whispers my name with something akin to reverence, which can’t be right.

Juniper is a man of destruction. He might make art, but the path to the end, the path to art and beauty, is through violence and power. He molds materials which require his full force to be exerted upon them. He takes something strong and turns it into something else. All through his will and his strength.

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