Diary of a Bad Boy(66)

I glance up to see her mouth parted, her eyes wild as she says, “You’re so big, Roark.”

And that’s my undoing. That innocent look, the surprise but joy that crosses her face, it breaks my resolve.

I reach down and undo her shorts, yanking them off in a smooth movement, then push my jeans down, leaving my briefs on. Like a teenage boy, I press my erection along her spread legs and seek the comfort of her warmth. My erection peeks past the waistband of my briefs as I glide it up and down her thong-clad center.

“Oh. My. God,” she moans and I shush her, bringing my mouth to her neck again, my hips rocking against hers in long strokes and then quick short ones, my body really unsure of what it wants.

No clothes would be better, but I can’t do that to her, not when I’m unsure of the feelings bristling inside me, but fuck, I just want some relief.

“I’ve never wanted something more in my life,” I say, surprising myself, but . . . it’s the truth. “You drive me crazy with need, Sutton. The last few days have been hell for me.”

“But don’t you know? You can have me, Roark.”

I grind my hips harder, my legs starting to tingle, my balls beginning to tighten.

“That’s what I’m worried about. You shouldn’t be so willing where I’m concerned. I’m not right for you.”

She spreads her legs even wider and links her hands behind my neck. “Why won’t you let me be the judge of that?”

I grind our hips together as I lift my head to look down at her. Lips wet and ready, eyes focused on me. Kissing her would bring this need to a whole new level. I know the moment my lips meet hers, there will be no returning. I won’t be able to stop.

Is that something I want to put her through, offer her a man who’s unsure if he can ever return what she gives him?

I don’t know if I can do that to her.

So instead of lowering my head, I keep my eyes locked on her as I drive my hips over hers, rocking us both to a peak.

She bites on her bottom lip, her neck straining, her orgasm floating, ready to fall over. Christ, I’m right there with her, my heart pounding in my head, my body thrumming with pleasure.

Knock, knock.

“Sutton, are you in there?” Foster’s voice calls out, stilling my hips in an instant.

Holy fuck.

I quickly stand, my erection painfully hard as I back away and look around her room. I spot her closet and quickly flee while pulling my pants up.

A small moan pops out of her during my retreat, and it echoes through my head as I lean my body against the closed closet door, unable to catch my breath.

Strained, Sutton says, “Yeah . . . just had . . . a clothing mishap. Be right down.” Clothing mishap, yeah, I would say missing half your shirt is a clothing mishap.

“Oh okay, just checking. Have you seen Roark?”

“Uh no . . . did you check the horse pen? He’s really good at taking care of all the excrement.”

Foster laughs as I frown. Real fucking funny. “Good point, I’ll go check. Hurry up, we have a lot to do before the kids arrive tomorrow.”

“Yup, be right down.” The strong footsteps of Foster’s boots echo down the hallway as he retreats. We must have been so far gone to not even notice their approach earlier.

On a heavy sigh, I lean my head against the closet door as it opens. Back tense, cock hard as stone and stuffed in my jeans, I turn to find Sutton wearing nothing but a thong. Come on, this really isn’t fucking fair, especially with another day of hard labor ahead of me.

I reach out to her and bring her into a hug where my hands fall to her bare ass. I kiss the top of her head and say, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For letting that get out of hand, for being a dick to you, for believing you belong to me when you don’t.”

She lifts up and looks me in the eyes. “But that’s where you’re wrong, Roark. No matter how much you try to push me away, it doesn’t change how I feel about you.” She bites her bottom lip and grips the front of my shirt. “I’ve tried to act like you don’t matter to me, that I can move past this crazy affection I have for you, but it’s impossible. With one look in my direction, you have me melting at your feet. And there’s nothing I can do about this feeling. So, when you come into my room and press your lips all over my body, I will always give in, because it’s what I crave.” And that makes me one lucky bastard—something I don’t deserve.

“You shouldn’t,” I say on a whisper.

“I know, believe me I know, but I can’t resist you. No matter how hard I try, I can’t.” Her hand reaches up and strokes my cheek, her eyes filling with unshed tears. “Please don’t pull away from me. I so wish you could see the value in us being together.”

Sadly, she lowers her hand and moves past me where she pulls on a pair of jeans and a regular shirt. When she departs the closet, I call out, “Bra, Sutton.”

She gives me a sad smile. “Still in the bathroom.” And then she takes off.

I lean against her shelves, an overwhelming sense of Sutton surrounding me as I try to uncomplicate my head.

I so wish you could see the value in us being together.

I can see it, hell, I can feel it, almost as if she’s been slowly etching it into my bones over the last few weeks. Weakened and tired, I head out of her room and down the stairs where I watch Sutton give her dad a hug before they walk out of the house together.