The Room Mate (Roommates #1)(13)
Paige was the furthest thing from a spoiled princess. She was kind, considerate, and humble. But her family was solidly middle class, and ours was . . . well, not. It was a nickname meant to sting when I hurled it at her. Only it hadn’t stung at all. She’d smirked at me, her mouth lifting in a crooked smile, and ruffled her fingers through my hair. After that, I continued using it because the nickname often earned me a smile.
“You can’t tell me you’re not interested. The way your tight little nipples poke out, begging to be licked, the hammering of your pulse in your throat, the flush of your cheeks, the greedy way your eyes fell to my lap when you walked in.”
She chewed on her lower lip, her gaze darting away from mine.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. We have chemistry. Plain and simple,” I continued, my tone soft, alluring.
“I do not . . .” She anchored her hands to her hips, which pressed her breasts out, her beaded nipples still hard and straining.
I suppressed a laugh. She could deny it all she wanted, but I was a fourth-year med student. I’d been studying biology and anatomy for years. She had all the classic signs. She was turned on.
“We’re practically family, Cannon. Allie would—”
“We’re not family. But yeah, Allie would freak the fuck out, which is why we’d never tell her.”
“It’s not going to happen. Ever.” Her voice wavered. It was slight, but it was there.
I shrugged. “Whatever you say. It was just an idea.” And obviously a bad one.
Part of me was relieved she refused my suggestion. If I broke Paige’s heart, not only would my sister kick my ass, but I wouldn’t forgive myself. But toying with her like this, watching her reactions to me . . . that I couldn’t resist.
Pulling a deep breath into her lungs, Paige fought to regain control.
“Listen, if you don’t want me here, if you don’t think we can behave . . .” I lifted my brows suggestively. “I can find somewhere else to crash until the end of the semester.”
After a scoffed grunt, she straightened her spine. “I can behave like an adult if you can. It’s only two months.”
So she admits that misbehaving appeals to her. “Sounds reasonable,” I murmured.
Actually it sounded fucking depressing, but I wouldn’t push her. If she wanted to deny she was interested, there wasn’t much I could do. And given my track record with women, it was a damn good idea to keep it in my pants.
My career was the one thing in my control. It felt good to set goals and work toward them. Growing up, we moved from one run-down apartment to the next until Mom remarried when I was eighteen, and she moved in with my stepdad when I went off to college. Things stabilized after that, but by then the desire for more was ingrained in me so deeply that nothing could stop me now. I wanted to do better, to prove to my mom that I could make something of myself.
Yes, the need for pussy often forced me into clubs seeking a quick release with a willing partner. One-night stands and the occasional short-term relationship helped squelch the burning need low in my groin. But it never detracted from my mission. And after this last particularly painful breakup, I was done with relationships, even short-term ones. From here on out, I would stick to clinical matters of the heart, and avoid the metaphorical ones that often landed you in a messy breakup.
“I really didn’t mean to interrupt,” Paige said, her voice softening. “Are you mad?”
I shook my head and sat down beside her. “I’m not mad. Horny? Yes. Mad, no.”
She gave me a sweet smile, her blue eyes crinkling in the corners. There was no way I could be mad at her. I just needed to figure out how to survive the next two months.
Chapter Eight
Paige
Cannon got home just after midnight. I hated myself that I’d waited up, listening for him, but I had. He came home alone, used the bathroom—I’d heard his electric toothbrush humming through the thin wall, the water running—and then closed the door to his bedroom.
Our encounter earlier that evening had played through my mind for hours. It was twice now I’d seen him naked, and I knew I’d never erase the images from my brain. I couldn’t believe the man he’d grown into. And that foul mouth on him?
Your tight little nipples are poked out, begging to be licked . . .
Remembering the way his darkly seductive voice rolled over the words sent a fresh wake of goose bumps skittering down my spine.
Thankfully, the morning passed by quickly. Cannon went to the gym and showered while I headed out for a hair appointment to touch up my color and cut before the charity gala. It worked out perfectly that my regularly scheduled appointment fell on the day of the event. I left the salon feeling refreshed and optimistic. At least my blowout wouldn’t go to waste.
Allie promised she’d be by at four to pick us up for the event. When I arrived home, I touched up my makeup and picked out a dress to wear. I slipped into a champagne-colored cocktail dress with a high neckline and plunging back that I’d picked up last year at a designer sample sale but never had an excuse to wear. The cut of the dress didn’t allow for a bra, but it was so well fitted that I didn’t think anyone would notice. My long hair was blown out in soft waves that tumbled down my back.
I could hear Cannon moving around in the house, and for some strange reason, I felt nervous about seeing him.