“I know a specific box we could unpack,” he murmurs, one eyebrow rising suggestively.
I know exactly which box he’s referring to. The indecent little collection of battery-charged pleasures we’ve accumulated over the past year. We haven’t had a chance to play since we packed them away and shuffled them from one apartment to another.
A shiver runs up my spine, but not from the cold . . . oh, I’m plenty warm now. Our lips touch, so soft and tender that I’m tempted to take his hand and sneak him back to his car, where we can do more than just talk about sex.
“Oh yeah? That box?”
Hayes pulls me a little closer. “Mmm. I was thinking we’d stow it away in the nightstand. Easy access.”
“We should probably leave one or two in the kitchen. And the living room. And the bathroom. And the car. Both cars. You know, just in case.” I give him a flirty wink.
A rich, contented laugh resonates from deep inside him, wrapping me in love. “Whatever you want, dove. Whatever you want.”
And I know he means it. Hayes would give me whatever I want—the whole world, if he could. It’s a comforting feeling, and one I’m so incredibly grateful for.
Wolfie and Penelope’s book is up next in My Brother’s Roommate. Wolfie may be the most deliciously broken alpha hero I've ever written.
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Next in This Series
There are a few things you should know about my brother’s roommate.
Wolfie Cox is . . . complicated. Terminally sexy, and more importantly, he has an impressive stick lodged so far up his ass, he’s about as emotionally available as a chinchilla. Actually, that might be an insult to the chinchilla community.
So, naturally, I want to ride him like a bicycle.
He thinks I hate him. Mostly because I’ve led him to believe this. It’s easier than admitting the alternative.
And while Wolfie is about as soft and cuddly as a fork, I’m the opposite. A good girl. Reliable. Conscientious. Oh, and completely panicked about an upcoming work conference.
Wolfie’s usually allergic to altruism, so when my brother asks him to help me out by escorting me to said conference where everyone else will have a plus-one . . . I say thanks, but no thanks. Surprisingly, Wolfie is unflinching about this. And that’s the story about how I got stuck in a hotel with my brother’s hot (grouchy) roommate.
Thank you for coming to my TED talk.
In all seriousness, this isn’t a game to me, and hormones aside, I need to impress my boss this week so the promotion I’ve worked hard for doesn’t get handed to his spineless nephew. But with Wolfie and me sharing a hotel bed, things get confusing quickly.
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Deleted Bonus Scene
Enjoy this deleted scene from when Maren met Hayes at the cabin in Chapter 19…
Inside the cabin, we find my bedroom. It’s dark except for the moon—which pours in through the window, bathing its inky blue light over us. Standing beside my bed, I’m hopeful Maren can’t tell how nervous I am. How much indecision I’m filled with. I came here to think, to make a choice and force myself to see it through—no matter how much it gutted me. Now though? With Maren and I about to climb into bed, I’m less certain than before.
She lifts her face to mine and I press my mouth to her neck, kiss her warm skin, breathe in her familiar scent. Though I told myself this wasn’t what tonight would be about, my dick begins to harden.
Her mouth finds mine and I’m weak, powerless to stop this. Kiss after hungry kiss, I let myself drink in my fill. My hands explore, cupping her perfect ass. She groans weakly into my mouth and I deepen our kiss, my tongue sliding and tangling with hers.
Jesus. Why is this so good? Why is she so hard to walk away from?
With super-human strength, I pull myself away.
Maren blinks up at me. “Why’d you stop?” Her gaze is filled with lust and my brain short-circuits.
Why did I stop?
Because I don’t want to ruin our friendship. Or my relationship with Wolfie.
But there’s no one here to interrupt us, and at this moment, the only thing I’m sure of is my longing. Deep, drowning longing that screams at me from deep inside my being. It’s primal—the need to claim her, mate with her ... have her in every way I can.
Maren doesn’t wait for me to respond, she lifts on her toes and presses her mouth to mine once again. Her tongue coaxes, treating mine to soft, wet strokes while her hand presses into my cock.
It’s like a fiesta of sensation.
We fall back onto the bed and begin scrambling with each other’s clothes. It doesn’t take long for me to strip her naked. I’m kissing one soft breast, my fingers pinching the nipple on her other as she wraps her fist around my cock. Her strokes are unhurried and I rasp out a breath.
“Feels good,” I say on a groan, teeth lightly grazing the soft, plump flesh of her breast.
She makes a small pleasure-filled sound and arches her back, pushing more of her tit into my mouth.
God, I can’t get enough of her. I arrange us on the bed so she’s lying back against the pillows and I hover over her on my forearms. She’s beautiful and I take a moment to tell her so. Her hands are everywhere—in my hair, on my waist, clutching my ass so that my dick presses into the wet flesh between her legs.
One thought is louder than the rest. If I can just get inside her, maybe everything else will make sense.
She parts her thighs and I know I can’t fight it any longer.
I line myself up between her legs and thrust forward slowly, filling her in a long, deep stroke.
Maren lifts her hips, moving to set the pace she wants. It’s hot as hell and I follow her lead.
With each deep stroke of my body inside of hers,
