He snorted. “No, they look good on you. Hot librarian vibes.”
I glared at him. “Fine,prettylibrarian vibes,” he said.
I guffawed. “I love that you think that’s better.”
“What’s up with the yarn wad?”
“What?”
He bent over and shook my blankie on my shoulder. “That’s my blankie. What did you call it?”
“Yarn Wad. I think it’s a good name. Because it’s a yarn wad.”
“Look, I don’t need your mockery,” I huffed, turning on my side away from him.
“Aw, come on, Jessie. I wouldn’t pick on you. I think it’s cute. But it is definitely deserving of the name Yarn Wad.”
“But did I ask for your opinion?” I bit out. “I have a hard enough time sleeping as it is.”
He blew right past my irritation. “What’s your plan with that book?”
I flipped over to face him, where he still sat on his side of the bed. “If you’d ever stop cajoling me, I’d fucking read it so I can go to sleep!”
“Okay, okay, geez,” he said, scooting off to the bathroom.
Okay, but one serious issue: my annoyingly persistent and eager and infuriatingly attractive roommate and all of his back-and-forth banter had me all kinds of tense. With no room of my own and very little private time for the next forty-eight hours, I had nowhere to manage that tension. He’d have heard me in the shower. Did I have enough time while he was in the bathroom getting ready for bed?
I just needed to take the edge off. The way he stood over me in the kitchen had me melting. His gentle touch when we danced together at Kitty’s party. How ridiculously good he looked naked. How he held my wrists against his wall. That tiny stroke of his thumb over the tender skin. How he licked his lip. He smelled so goddamn good and he got this look in his eyes like he’d just love to show me how it’s done. And “it” was mind-blowing sex.
I didnotwant to get involved with Ben. Yes, Cole and I were through, but I needed recovery time. And Ben was my roommate for Christ’s sake. And anyway, he was a player. I’d done my share of messing around before Cole, but I wasn’t thrilled with the thought of being with a love-em-leave-em kinda guy. I wasalready sleeping in his damn bed. I didn’t need to add anything more physical to the already tense equation.
Still, I was pretty sure if I just said the word, Ben would do any combination of fun and exciting acts with me. The thought had my hand drifting under the covers. His womendidalways sound satisfied. I wanted to be satisfied, so very, very badly. My hand moved faster as I let my mind explore what those strong hands would feel like on me, how hard he’d grab, whether he liked to be a little rough or more tender. My breathing hitched as my back arched. A tiny whimper escaped my throat. God, I needed release so bad it hurt.
The bathroom door slammed against the wall. That meant the bathroom door had already been open for a few seconds at that point. It was too fucking late. Ben was already in the bedroom.
I ripped my hand out of my shorts. Fuck, my fingers were wet. Jesus. That went far, fast. Fuck fuck fuck. I wiped them on my stomach and rubbed my shirt over it, because I wasn’t about to put them on his sheets.
“Oh. I, uh,” Ben’s face went beet red. “Sorry, I can, uh, give you some space.”
“It’s not what you think,” I squeaked. “I just—”
“Nope, nope, no problem. I’m gonna go, uh, watch TV,” he said, gesturing to the living room with his thumbs.
“No, it’s nothing. Um, come to bed?”
Ben stood in the doorway to the hall. He swallowed hard and held his hands over his crotch, not looking directly at me. “You’re right. I should let you get to sleep on your own. I’ll, uh, see you around.”
Mortified. Medically. Physically. Metaphysically. Mortified.
Chapter 20
Mikey
This was all Guy Stelle’s fault. He was all “give her space” and “be her friend.” If I were typical me, I’d have had my hands under the sheets and my fingers covered in Jessie. But no, I had to behave myself under extreme circumstances.
Jessalyn Welsh had been touching herself in my bed. I heard what she sounded like when she was actually turned on. I saw the flush in her cheeks before she realized I could see her. Her hand was under the covers, but I could tell what she was doing. God, she was fucking gorgeous.
I sat in the living room with the TV up way too loud, shellshocked with an aching hard-on. My sweats were fucking wet from my tip leaking. My dick was literally crying for attention, and I’d already jerked it in the shower after dinner. Christ. How did she have that kind of power over me?
