After one feverish night with Tyler Evans, Rory is never supposed to see the man draped in enigmas and devilish charms again.
Six months later, she's deep into a summer fling with Chace. As their fling becomes a committed relationship, she's adamant...
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Jeffery's moans fill the room, feverish breath lathering my neck as I thrust between his thighs. He drags manicured nails down my back and crosses his thin ankles around my waist. Panting, I bury my face in his neck and thrust hard enough to rock the headboard against the wall with a thud. "Fuck," he calls and grips me tighter. Sweat drips down my forehead and clings to my body as I release every bit of passion and frustration into him. Every thrust is a piece of pent-up emotion freeing itself from my body. We've been doing this for nearly thirty minutes now, and I'm exhausted. Our chemistry has changed.
He just doesn't feel the same.
Finishing is almost anticlimactic, and I roll off of him feeling empty. My gaze finds the ceiling and its blank canvas, reflecting the hollowness in my chest. "Damn," he purrs and draws his nails across my panting chest. "You've been so rough here lately." He kisses my chest. "I love it."
I pull him flush to my body to hide how much my expression deceives me. "What can I say? You turn me on."
Silence fills the room as he continues to trace the outline of my chest, creating patterns and drawing shivers from deep within me. "You could still move in, you know?" His voice is fragile, a soft side he only reveals to me. "I've still got a spare bedroom waiting for you."
"I appreciate the offer, Jeff, but you know I want to stay with my brother." I try to keep the irritated edge out of my voice. He's brought this up nearly every day this week, making me regret ever asking him for help to begin with.
He huffs. "You got me excited, you know? I thought we'd be fuck buddy roommates."
"I know." I grunt and roll away from him and off of the bed. "Chace wanted me to stay here though." And I know exactly what you want from me. It's more than I'm willing to give at the moment. Not when my head and my heart are having the most chaotic battle of my life. Sleeping with him is the only thing I know how to do right these days, and even that is becoming more convoluted.
I tug on my boxers and watch him clean up before he does the same. The faintest hint of disappointment rests in his lowered eyes. Messy blonde locks are trapped in the sweat along his forehead and are frayed out in the back. Seeing him this way does something odd and indescribable to me. This is why I hate sleeping with him sometimes. It hurts in the end. I know he wants more from me, and I've never been able to offer it. He knows I can't, yet he's stuck with me for so long in hopes that someday I'll change.
"Maybe we shouldn't do this anymore." The words are out of my mouth before my brain has a second to think about it, but it's a thought that's circled my head for months. The thought that we're better off alone than together.
Jeffery turns his head fast with panic in his eyes. Desperate fingers dig into my arms as he stumbles over his words, "What are you talking about? Why not?"
