Page 38 of A Bossy Roommate
12
EDEN
Ihadshrieked. He’s right.
But then I’d laughed immediately after, realizing it had only been my own reflection in the small mirror on the wall that had scared me.
I hadn’t been able to find the switch in the small walk-in laundry room.
Instead, I’ve found myself in a sticky situation.
Him, between my legs.
Me, unable to move.
To think.
To process.
When his cheek brushes my cheek and his lips are only inches from mine, my senses start to go into havoc. There’s a wild carnival in my head, and all of it is attacking me: sounds, smells, touch, his closeness, all mixed together in a jumbled frenzy.
His long lashes reflect the moonlight.
I can nearly feel them brushing my skin.
When I feel the side of his lip graze mine for just a millisecond, I almost drop the cupcakes I brought along for a mini midnight celebration.
He pulls back a little, slowly opening his eyes.
Locking eyes with him is like looking into a mesmerizing, starry sky. I find myself lost in their intense darkness, unable to look away.
“Did you scream to wake your husband so he could reward you for being a good girl doing laundry?” he rumbles in his deep, sexy baritone. “Or did you scream because you wanted him to punish the naughty little thing for waking him?”
“Eh…I wasn’t trying to do either.”
I’m at the point where everything is overwhelming.
Everything around me is intense.
His muscular arms, his presence, his hips pressed against my spread thighs. Hisbulge. I can feel it getting harder.
He moves his head to my ear.
Even the slightest touch of his stubble against my skin feels electrifying.
His head moves further, his lips grazing my ear. The moonlight casts shadows on his chiseled cheeks, making him look even more alluring.
“Are you trying to tell me that you’re not eager to get yourself fucked?”
I mean…
I feel my cheeks flush as I stumble over my words, caught off guard. I have to take a moment to process what he said before I can respond.
“Of course not…” I whisper, my head light.
At this point, I can’t even think straight. My vision is blurry, my hearing is muffled, and my sense of touch feels distorted. It’s like my brain is putting all its power into me getting wet. I don’t even hear the sound of the washing machine filling with water.All I hear is the sexy growl of his voice in my ears, and other parts of my body—parts of me that definitely shouldn’t continue to listen.
“Because of your promise?” he growls softly, his touch against the shell of my ear sending more sensations down my spine.