The House Mate (Roommates, #3)

I cut her off by bending down to nip hard at her straining nipple again, and she grasped me tighter, the one warning sign before her walls collapsed around me and I felt the long, full quake of her orgasm.

“Yeah, baby, come for me,” I growled, fighting off my own explosion so I could ride hers out.

“I want you to come with me,” she rasped breathlessly. “I want to see you.”

Damn, if that wasn’t the sexiest thing she’d said all night. Pulling back, I grasped her hips and pulled her into me, fucking her hard and deep until my balls drew up and the hard knot of tension in my stomach loosened, sending waves of euphoria throughout my body. Her pussy milked every last drop from me, tight and needy, sucking me dry. If I had any lingering doubts about whether this was a good idea, they were instantly wiped away.

She was better, sexier, tighter than any woman I’d ever been with, and as the last ripples of our orgasms climbed through us, I stared into her eyes, wanting to share the intense, sweet moment with her.

She stared back at me and I knew she felt what I did-that this was special. That it had been perfect.

In the silence, we panted together for a few minutes. Then I pulled away from her, removing the condom and dropping it into a nearby wastebasket before coming back to bed.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“What do we do now?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, looking more vulnerable than I’d ever seen her before.

I moved toward her, uncrossed her arms, and then tweaked her nipple.

“Get over here and lay with me,” I said.

“I should probably sleep in my own room, but I can stay for a little bit.” She raised her eyebrows, a grin tugging at her lips. “Never took you for much of a cuddler.”

“I’m not. But I might be tonight if you let me be the big spoon.” I climbed over her, then pulled her back to my chest and draped my arm over her naked body. Breathing deep, I took in the scent of her skin, of her hair, of the sex that still lingered in the air around us.

Fucking perfect.

“I’d say that went pretty well,” she said.

“I’d have to agree.” I kissed her hair. “And now I know for sure that I was right. Whoever made you feel less than in bed was out of their fucking mind.”

She snuggled closer to me. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” I cupped her breast and she giggled, then turned to look at me.

“I really think this might work,” she said.

“I have no doubt.”

“But can you do one thing for me?” she asked.

“What’s that?”

“Never make pancakes again.” She grinned and wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know how, but you managed to make them crunchy and mushy at the same time.”

I laughed. “Family tradition. Not my fault if you can’t appreciate it.”

“Maybe that’s one tradition Dylan can live without?”

“Maybe.” I pushed a strand of hair from Addison’s face, then stared into her eyes. “I’m sort of hoping she doesn’t get much from me, anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want her to be part of the military family bullshit I got dragged into. It’s nice, I think, and it’s not because she’s a girl or anything, but I want her to really make an impact in the world. The military is great, and if that’s the path she chooses, that’s fine, but-”

“It would scare you to death?” Addison asked.

I should have known she’d see right through me. “That obvious, huh?”

She grinned. “I think most parents feel that way. They have a certain idea of what their kids should be or what they should do. My mom wanted me to be a surgeon. The day I told her I wanted to be a teacher, I think she almost had a heart attack.”

“Oh yeah?”

She nodded. “Some people say teaching is the noblest profession, right? Well, my mother . . . doesn’t feel that way. She thinks science is the be all and end all.” She shrugged. “It’s fine and it was her choice, but I think as long as you don’t impose that will on your child, they’ll end up just fine.”

“Maybe so. But you and me-our parents did do that. So, what does that mean for us?” I asked.

“I guess we’re screwed.” She smiled.

“Guess so. I don’t think I mind too much, though.”

“Me neither. When I think about being a parent, though, I think more about what my mom did right than what she did wrong. She had a lot of pressure on her. I think if I was in her shoes, I would have done about the same,” she said with a shrug.

“And what if you had things your own way?”

“I don’t know yet. I’m not a parent. What about you? What’s the dream?” she asked.

I considered her for a minute. I’d never thought about my future much-aside from how I wanted the company to do, at least. But now that Dylan was around . . .

“I want a big family someday, I think. A wife who loves Dylan like I do. Some more kids. Big Christmases.”

She nodded. “It’s a nice dream.”

“Thanks.”

Silence settled over us for a moment, and then the bed creaked and Addison sat up. “Speaking of dreams, I should be getting to bed.”

“All right, yeah.”

I couldn’t ignore the faint disappointment I felt, but I stood, following her to the door and waiting as she collected her clothes. If we crossed into the realm of sleepovers and sharing a room, there was no going back. We had agreed to take things slow and keep it casual for now, and I wasn’t about to back out on the deal already.

“This was fun,” she said.

“You could do better than me.”

She winked. “I could. But I like you and I love Dylan, and nobody is going to pry me away from her.” Then, on her tiptoes, she kissed me, short and sweet. “Good night.”

“Good night,” I said, and when she was gone, I closed the door after her.

I should have felt like a million bucks. Tonight had gone great.

But there was something else, something that gnawed at my stomach. It might have been that I’d gone out on a limb-I’d never dated, after all. It could have been the risk I’d taken. More than that, though, it might have been what Addison had said. She loved Dylan, and Dylan loved her. It could be the start of something great for us all. And I . . .

Well, I was going to have to hope that I didn’t fuck everything up like I always did.