The Play Mate (Roommates, #2)

Chapter 11 Smith



“What do you think y-”

When she paused, I waved her on with a flourish of my hand. “Please, go ahead. As you know, my motto is always ladies first.”

In her case, it had been ladies only, but who was counting?

My cock flexed behind my zipper in a not-so-subtle reminder that someone was, indeed, counting.

Her jaw clenched, and she pounded the table with one fist. “Cut the crap. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

I blinked back at her and shrugged. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“The virgin mimosa? And the tight hotel rooms? What the hell is wrong with you? It’s like you want Cullen to find out. Do you know how pissed he’d be?” she demanded, her chest heaving hard enough for her breasts to push against her sweater in the most mouthwatering way.

For a second, I blacked out as memories of the night before flitted through my mind like an X-rated movie. Evie, grinding on top of me. Biting her lip as she cried out in pleasure. The tight grip of her channel squeezing me, pulling at my cock, practically begging me to explode and fill her with hot cum.

“Smith?” She snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Hellooo?”

I tugged at my shirt collar, wishing I’d skipped the tie today. “Yep, I’m here. Sorry, I was just having a very vivid flashback.”

She scowled at me, her hand shaking as she turned over her coffee mug for the waitress who had paused at our table with a steaming carafe.

“Cullen is not going to find out. He’s not going to know that you have the world’s tightest teacup.”This text is © NôvelDrama/.Org.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Can we not discuss this?” she hissed.

“Excuse me, sugar tits, I’m sorry. I’m a bit fucking thrown off here. How did you want me to act this morning . . . like you weren’t naked and wet and grinding on my dick last night?”

She grinned, but it was fake and didn’t reach her pretty eyes. “Yeah, that’d be super helpful.”

I could have barked out a laugh, but I knew based on her reaction, Evie didn’t find this situation nearly as funny as I did.

She lifted the coffee mug to her lips with a trembling hand and then paused, still looking straight at me. “Just do me a favor and forget last night ever happened.”

Yeah, right. Not possible.

I couldn’t seem to stop my brain from remembering all the wonderful soft, pleasant things about her. The way she felt underneath me, her scent, how quickly she climaxed, almost like she’d been desperate for it . . .

My cock pulsed again.

Christ.

“How’s this . . . I’ll forgive you for breaking into my room. But forgetting last night? There’s not a chance in hell of that happening.”

“Argh!” She buried her flaming face in her hands. “Can you please? Pretty please? I just want to forget that ever happened, and I want you to as well. Wipe it from your brain. Is that too much to ask?”

I let my gaze travel over those curves, so delicious they should be illegal, and again, my mouth started moving before my brain weighed in.

“Actually, I can’t. I won’t ever forget the feeling of you coming on my face. The way your thighs gripped my cheeks as you shuddered for me. And frankly?” I let my gaze trail down the front of her sweater where her nipples had hardened, peaking against the soft fabric. “I don’t think you can forget it either. But you’re welcome to try.”

Her lean throat worked as she swallowed, and suddenly the room-and my pants-seemed much too small.

“Now you’re all clear to bang that chick from the bar. Consider that my gift to you.” Evie spread her napkin on her lap, a sour expression on her face.

“How generous of you.” It was a prize of little consolation. I had no interest in that. Whatsoever. Which was fucking weird.

“Good news,” Cullen said, sailing back into the restaurant and toward our small table. “Everything’s on track in London. Now we can get back to business.” His gaze flicked between Evie and me, and he frowned. “You guys okay?”

“Yup,” I said smoothly, shifting in my seat to ease the pressure on my groin. “Everything is fine. Evie was just getting all worked up, telling me how passionately she feels about the new lingerie line. Evie, why don’t you tell Cullen what you were saying to me?”

Evie lifted her chin and nodded. “Sure, yeah. I was saying how the new line is old school and vintage-looking but with a modern twist. Really fine laces with pearl buttons, but instead of the standard black and cream, we’ve added all those luscious new colors. In fact,” she sent a vicious smile my way, “I’ve already snagged a bra-and-panty set in every color. The raspberry is my favorite.”

Ungh.


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