Cannon
Paige was lying.
There was something about having me here that made her uncomfortable. Perhaps it was the strong physical attraction I could feel radiating between us. Her scent was intoxicating, light and feminine and delicate. I didn't have time for distractions, and I'd just promised myself there would be no more fucking around. But all of that went out the window the second I laid eyes on Paige.
The stolen sight of her tits when I was fourteen had inspired a lifelong love affair with breasts. Her honey-colored hair was the reason I'd always preferred blondes. And while I'd caught glimpses of her on my sister's social media over the years, in person she was . . . wow.
"Come inside," she said, opening the door wider.
I obeyed and followed her in.
Now that I was here in her space, watching her subtle reaction to me and feeling her discomfort, I wanted to flee.
I hadn't seen Paige in years, and fuck if she hadn't grown up into a beautiful woman. Toned legs beneath a fitted skirt, the tempting curve of a round ass, the soft swell of breasts hidden behind a silky top.
I'd had more dirty fantasies about her while growing up than I'd ever admit. She was my sister's best friend, which meant she'd slept over at our house hundreds of times, gone swimming with us dozens. As a child, I'd chased behind her and my sister on my bike, and cried when they refused to hang out with me. As a teenager, even though I spent less time trailing after my sister and more around my own friends, Paige was never far from my brain.
All my raging hormones overflowed straight onto her. I'd hear her giggling through the wall of Allie's room as they talked about boys, and wish I could make her laugh like that, be one of the boys she wanted. The sight of her in a swimsuit or a tank top or even a tight pair of jeans had never failed to give me an instant boner. Watching movies together on the couch, I had ached to touch her knee or press my thigh against hers, but I could only sit paralyzed with nervous need—and bite Allie's head off when she inevitably teased me for being so quiet.
When Allie suggested I stay here for the rest of the semester, my cock had twitched with interest. Clearly those old, secret fantasies had only slept, never died. But nothing could have prepared me for actually being here, watching Paige's pulse thrum in her throat, smelling her warm, feminine scent, feeling her reaction to me. Now a grown man, I knew the effect I had on women. I was tall, well-groomed, and never failed to turn a few heads. But this was Paige . . . I shouldn't want this, right?
"Who's this?" I asked, grinning down at the tiny pup at her ankles.
Paige looked down as if she hadn't noticed the overgrown rat running up to us. "This is Enchilada," she said almost defensively.
Weird-ass name for a dog, but who was I to judge? Maybe she was a Mexican food enthusiast.
She reached down and lifted the dog with one hand under his belly and held him at her side, stroking his fur with the other hand.
"So did Allie just spring this on you, or were you okay with the idea?" I asked, wondering how honest she'd be.
"She actually just called me when you were walking up." Paige blushed a little at the admission, but I had no idea why she should feel embarrassed about that.
Dammit, Allie. My big sister could be so absentminded sometimes. But I guessed Paige knew that as well as I did, and we loved her anyway.
"So you're between apartments?" Paige asked, setting the dog down beside us, where he sat with a huff.
I nodded, not wanting to advertise the fact that my ex had destroyed my place. A long history of unstable ex-lovers probably wasn't a desired trait in a roommate.
"It's just that, well, my place is pretty small . . ." She trailed off, her hands clasped together.
She had neatly manicured fingernails, painted light blue. In fact, all of her was neatly groomed, from her long shiny hair that I wanted to wrap around my fist to her full pink lips that I wanted to see around my cock, pulling me deep into her warm mouth. I knew I was supposed to be taking a break from sex, but she made me want to throw out all my rules and say fuck it.
"I get it." I stuck my hands in my pockets and rocked back on my heels. "We haven't seen each other in a long time. Living together would be awkward."
She chewed on her lower lip, looking unsure and totally delectable. I'd meant to give her an out if she wanted one, but instead Paige shook her head, resolution flashing on her features.
"I'm sorry. I'm being rude. If you need a place to crash, of course you're welcome."
"Only if you're sure it's no trouble."
Paige cleared her throat. "It's no trouble. Let me show you around."
I nodded and followed her into the combination living/dining room. She had one couch and an armchair, both upholstered in tan microfiber, and two end tables. A pile of throw pillows in creams and blues lay heaped on the couch, and framed black-and-white nature photographs lined the wall opposite the windows. The other end of the room held a round glass dining table and two tufted chairs. Overall, it was small but cozy.
The narrow kitchen wasn't anything fancy, but it was clean and organized. She opened the door to the pantry and said she'd clear off some shelf space for whatever groceries I wanted.
Along a short hallway, there was only one bathroom with a glass stand-up shower stall, and then two bedrooms. Paige's room was the larger of the two, and when I entered, the wood floor creaked under my feet. Her bed was pristinely made with a gray duvet and pale pink sheets with a geometric print, little matching throw pillows piled on top. A bedside table held a stack of books and a reading lamp. The door to her closet stood open, revealing rows and rows of work clothes hung neatly inside.
"Nice place," I commented, following her out into the hall once again.
"This is the guest room." Paige pushed open a door to reveal a space barely large enough for a bed. It currently held a futon and a writing desk shoved into the corner.
"I'm sorry, I know it's not much—" she started.
"This is perfect. I'm doing my rotation, so I practically live at United Methodist. All I really need at home is a bed." I'd barely even eaten in my last apartment—I scarfed down most of my meals at the hospital cafeteria. I turned my gaze from the room back to Paige. "You probably won't see much of me."
She nodded. "I'm generally home from work by five thirty, and sometimes I walk home for lunch."
Enchilada, who had followed us, sneezed and shook himself with a jingle of silver dog tags. She reached down to lift the pile of light brown and gray fur into her arms again.
I stopped beside the front door, looking down at a pair of pink women's running shoes with orange laces.
"I have a spare key I can leave you. When were you thinking of . . ." Paige shifted beside me, looking uncomfortable again.
"Moving in?"
She nodded.
"Tonight, if you don't mind. I've been couch surfing for the last few nights, staying with buddies around campus."
A quiet, strangled noise escaped her, but she nodded. "Sure."
"I lost pretty much everything, so I really need to run to the store tonight and get some essentials. Might take me a few hours. Are you okay leaving the door unlocked if I promise to be back by ten?"
She nodded. "Of course. I'll see you later."
Something told me this new arrangement was going to test all of my boundaries and then some.
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YOU ARE READING
The Room Mate
RomanceA new standalone novel from New York Times bestselling author Kendall Ryan. Paige finds herself getting more than she bargained for when her best friend's flirty brother crashes at her apartment, stirring up new feelings and a very tempting offer. ...
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