One: Her tight, warm, unfairly flawless pussy will always hug my dick better than any other, and I’m a stupid motherfucker for thinking a condom would change that.
And two: She’s vulnerable in my arms, stripped of that rough exterior of hers that drives me completely wild, and that shit wrecks me. The look on her face, the sounds she gives me, the trust in her eyes as I take everything from her, reminding her how fucking good this is—nothing comes close to seeing that. It’s honest and raw and fucking real.
This is the side of her I’ll never stand a chance against. The side that has me saying shit I don’t want her to know. Or almost saying it, until she interrupts me.
“Max, come on.”
I follow behind him as he darts up the stairs to her level. He scratches on the door, pushing it open after a few thuds of his paw. I close and lock it the best I can, turning to see him go running down the hallway toward the bedroom.
“Fucking traitor,” I scoff under my breath, pulling my T-shirt off and grabbing my phone and charger out of my duffle.
I plug them into the nearest outlet before collapsing on the couch, wincing as the metal frame digs into my back. I punch the pillow under my head three times, trying to make it somewhat useable, but it’s uncomfortable as hell. As is the couch. I turn on my side, my back, my other side, trying to find some angle that will allow me at least a few hours of sleep. I roll onto my stomach, only to find that position completely out of the question. My cock knows what’s in the other room, and he also knows exactly what she wears to bed.
And I know just how comfortable that bed is, which is the only reason I’m walking down the hallway right now. Nothing else.
I stop in her doorway and take in the sight of her, illuminated by the hallway light. She’s sprawled out like I’m used to seeing, tangled in the covers with her wild hair fanned out around her. I’ve never seen someone take up as much room as Tessa does in a bed. It doesn’t seem possible, not with how tiny she is, but she does it, stretching her body like a damn starfish and looking way too sexy doing it.
She snores. She moves around constantly. She steals the comforter and talks in her sleep. Nothing about sharing a bed with her should be appealing, and if this were any other woman, I’d be waking up with the worst cramp after the shittiest night’s sleep on the couch.
But this is Tessa.
Max lifts his head from where he’s laying at the foot of the bed, stares at me for a few seconds, and resumes his position once he’s done judging me for standing here right now.
Fuck you. You’re just as bad.
I shift Tessa’s cocooned body over so she’s more on one side than both, and slide into bed, lying on my side and facing the window. The mattress shifts behind me, her breathing changes, and I wait for what I know is coming.
Tessa was always a talker in bed, with or without my cock involved.
“Luke?”
I close my eyes. “Yeah?”
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? Your couch sucks.”
She yawns, moaning softly at the end of it. My dick twitches.
“No it doesn’t. My couch is very comfortable.”
I fold the pillow over to boost my head up. “Then you go sleep on it.”
“You can’t seriously think sleeping in my bed is a good idea. Especially after what happened tonight.”
“Tessa, roll over and go the fuck to sleep.”
The mattress shifts again, she sighs heavily, and I feel the covers being pulled off me slowly. I grab them to keep a decent amount, which barely drapes over my hip.
“I need more covers,” she says as she struggles to pull them.
My grip tightens. “You have most of them. Jesus fucking Christ. If you’re that cold, put a damn hoodie on or something.”
“I’m not cold. I’m naked.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, dropping my hand to my dick to keep it from reacting. “What?” I ask, my voice tense and edgy. Goddamn it. Why does she have to wrap up in her blankets like a damn burrito? Who the fuck sleeps like that? If I had known she was naked in here, I wouldn’t have walked in.
Yeah, okay, Luke. Keep telling yourself that.
She laughs, moving around behind me. “Naked. You know, without clothes.”
“Why the hell are you naked? You always sleep in those tiny shorts that barely cover your ass and a tank top.”
“You were the one who removed my clothes, remember? I was too tired to put anything on, and I wasn’t expecting anyone to get in bed with me. If you have a problem with it, there’s a couch with your name on it.”
I exhale loudly, scooting as far to the edge of the bed as I can. “Seriously, put something on, Tessa.”
“Seriously, get the fuck out, Luke. I’m not changing because you have a problem with sleeping on my couch.”
I grab my tiny bit of covers and yank as hard as I can, hearing her yelp behind me. “If you want more to cover up with, go put clothes on. You’re not hogging all the damn covers.”
She moves behind me, sighing heavily after she settles. “Fuck you.”
“Fuck you.”
Silence surrounds us, but only for a few seconds. She grunts, shifts, and grunts again.
“Tessa,” I warn.
“What?” she asks with a heated tone.
“Stop moving around and go to sleep.”
“My neck hurts. I can’t get comfortable.”
My eyes flash open as I picture the marks on her neck, the faint bruising I saw when she was on the floor, panicked and shaken up. They aren’t strongly visible, but they’re definitely there.
I roll over onto my back and stare up at the ceiling. “Do you want some Advil or something? It’ll probably help with the pain.”
She doesn’t respond and I turn my head, catching her wide eyes on me as she lies on her side, the covers pulled up to her neck. I swallow, struggling with the strongest urge I’ve ever had in me—one that demands I comfort her right now.
Just pull her into your arms and tell her it’ll be okay.
“I was so scared,” she finally says, her voice soft and guarded. Her gaze lowers to the space between us on the bed as I feel that familiar weight lay heavy on my chest. “What made you come here tonight? I mean, I know you didn’t like the guy, but I heard your voice when you were trying to get in. You must’ve known something.”
You. You made me come here.
I avert my gaze to the ceiling again. “I saw his license plate before he left the bonfire. Asshole was parked right in front of me.”
“So, what? You used that to look him up?”
I nod. “I had a feeling that piece-of-shit was hiding something. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. I just felt it. So when I got his plate number, I used that to search for him in our database. He had domestic charges filed against him, but they were dropped. Usually when that happens, the person who filed them is being threatened or doesn’t want to make things worse for themselves. I’ve never had it be because the charges weren’t valid. As soon as I saw his record, I came straight here.”
“You saved my life,” she states, matter-of-factly. Her lengthy pause has me glancing over at her, which I regret immediately. Even in the darkness, her eyes still hold me with an honesty I can’t deal with right now. It’s the way Tessa always used to look at me, back before she made me doubt everything we had.