“You were flirting with him?—”
She snorts. “So what? You flirted with everyone you served.”
I clench my jaw and force a harsh breath out through my nose. If I don’t chill out, I’ll say something I regret.
“That’s not what I mean,” I say, keeping my tone even. “You can do whatever you want, flirt with whomever you want. But you seemed into him, and when I came back from the restroom, you were alone and ready to leave. What happened?”
She doesn’t blink, doesn’t look away. “Nothing happened.”
Unease swirls in my gut. “Ry?”
“Nick is a nice guy. I just…wasn’t in the mood anymore.” She crosses her arms over her chest and faces forward, ending the conversation.
There’s no way I’m getting the answer out of her right now.
The momentwe step into the penthouse, she dashes to her room, leaving me alone in total silence.
After a shower, I pull on a pair of sweatpants and make my way to the kitchen for a glass of water.
My mind is a mess, and not only because of Nick’s comment about Owen. No, a dozen confusing emotions stir inside me, and most of them are because of Riley. The need to make sure she’s okay is familiar, but the jealousy? This desire to mark her so no one else looks at her?
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Head lowered, I put the empty glass in the sink and pad back to my bedroom. As I pass her door, I come to a stop.
What are you doing?My brain knows I should move, but my body doesn’t agree.
Just as I take another step closer, she makes a sound. It’s low, almost breathless. What?—
Is that a moan? Holy fuck. When she moans a second time, my heart stops. I press my ear to her door, and sure enough, she does it again. There’s another sound too, a low hum. Shit. She’s masturbating using her pink vibrator. Fucking herself in my penthouse. Pleasuring herself when there’s nothing but a wall between us.
Struggling for breath, I press my forehead to the doorframe and close my eyes. Her next moan is louder. I shouldn’t be here, but I’m glued to the spot. All I want is to be inside her room. To watch the way she moves her vibrator in and out of her wet pussy. To see her tits, her toned body. To feel her lips against mine.
My body heats, the sensation settling in my groin. Fuck, even her sounds are perfect. I squeeze my hard cock through my sweatpants, but it doesn’t bring me the relief I need. So, I dip my hand beneath the waistband and stroke once, twice, and before I know it, I’ve come in my pants.
Shame washes over me a second after the relief. I should’ve walked away the moment I heard her. I should’ve respected her privacy.
But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
Standingunder the spray for the second time in one night—this time, the water ice cold—I stare at the tiled wall. My thoughts race. I try to convince myself I came in my sweatpants because I haven’t had sex in months, but the truth is like a neon sign in my brain.
It’s her.
It’s Riley.
And I have no idea how much longer I can resist her.
17
fuck it
RILEY
Hayden’s kitchen is lifeless.Outside isn’t much better. This morning, the clouds hang low and heavy, like a dense blanket muting the sunlight.
I sit at the breakfast bar, hands wrapped tightly around my mug of lukewarm coffee.
The coffee is bitter, just like my thoughts.
