Page 36 of The Roommate Problem
Chapter Eleven
August glanced at the clock on the wall for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. Time hadn’t magically gone faster since he last checked. It was still ten forty-five. Normally, he’d be in bed by now, especially on a weeknight, but he wasn’t the least bit tired. Cleaning usually wore him out, but he’d already cleaned the entire apartment earlier to work off the tension pulling every muscle in his body tight enough to snap.
The book he had open in his hands was on the same page it’d been on for the past half hour. He couldn’t concentrate. Couldn’t stop thinking about Mo. Where she was. What she was doing. Who she was doing it with.
She could be doing it with you, dumbass.
He slammed his book shut and tossed it on the coffee table. He did not need his own psyche against him, too. It had been hard enough resisting the temptation of Mo while living in such close quarters with the woman. But after that moment in the supply room…
All day, August had been playing the scene over and over in his mind. Wondering what would have happened if his grandmother hadn’t walked in on them. Would he have kissed her? Would she have kissed him back?
Hell yes. To both questions.
Which was the problem. Now that he knew this attraction went both ways, how the hell was he supposed to fight against it? Mo was giving him no help with the problem. Damn woman was doing the exact opposite. Encouraging the very bad idea of them getting together. And earlier, in her room.
Shit.
When he heard the sound of a crash and her scream, he’d imagined the worst. He hadn’t thought about the repercussions of rushing into her bedroom, the fact that she might be in a state of undress. His face burned just thinking about it. He’d never been so embarrassed or so turned on in his life. Mo had the most amazing breasts he’d ever seen, and he felt like an ass for catching a glance of them, even if it was only an accidental nanosecond of a peek.
She, however, hadn’t seemed the least bit self-conscious. Of course not, because she was Mo, and he’d never met a person so comfortable in their own skin, their own identity. Honestly, he kind of envied that about her. To be so sure of oneself must be nice. Sometimes, August had to wonder if the reason his parents shipped him back and forth so easily, created new families so quickly with their stepkids, was because something was wrong with him.
Had to be. He was the common denominator.
This was ridiculous. He shouldn’t be sitting out here on the living room couch having a pity party. What was he, twelve? No. He was a grown-ass man. So what if he had the hots for his roommate? As a mature adult, he could act accordingly. He could resist things he knew were bad for him. Like processed foods and sexy roommates. That’s what being a grown-up was all about. Self-control.
Maybe a hot shower would calm his mind.
Rising from the couch, August headed toward his bathroom in the back of the apartment. He turned the faucet on full blast, stripping off his clothing and waiting until the hot steam started to rise before stepping into the shower stall. The scalding water pounded on his back. He was sure his skin would soon be as red as his hair, but the heat felt nice. At least it gave him a modicum of relief.
As he scrubbed up, an unbridled image of Mo entered his mind, standing in her room, top down around her waist, the neckline stuck underneath her breasts, lifting them like an offering, waiting to be worshipped, the dusky rose-colored nipples hard and standing at attention, just begging for his lips to caress them.
He felt his body harden. His hand spread the soapy water down his chest and abs until he grabbed his painfully hard erection, gripping himself as he imagined—
Whoa!
His eyes snapped opened. Lifting his hand, he placed both palms on the tile in front of him. Uh uh. No way. He would not fantasize about Moira while taking care of himself in the shower. That was just…wrong. He would not be that asshole. But his mind refused to think about anything else, so he turned and grabbed the temperature dial, cranking the water to ice cold and standing in the frigid temps until his erection got the memo.
No more thinking about Mo and sex in the same sentence.
When he finally felt like he’d beaten his body and hormones back into submission, August turned off the tap. Stepping out of the shower, he grabbed a towel and vigorously dried all the water from his body. As if by scrubbing the moisture off his skin he could scrub thoughts of taking Mo to bed right out of his mind. Didn’t work, but he could continue to deny himself.
He had to.
Wrapping the towel around his waist, he tucked the corner in and headed out of the bathroom, down the hall to his bedroom, but on his way out, he immediately slammed into something small and soft.
“Ow!” Mo exclaimed, rubbing her nose. “Damn, August, you’re like running into a brick wall.”
Her hands landed on his chest when she tried to take a step back and tripped over his feet. The feel of her soft skin on him made the ten minutes he spent in the icy shower null and void. His body came to life at once. Hot and hungry, aching for her to touch him everywhere, move her hands just a foot or so lower to relieve the desperate need he felt for her.
Dammit! He’d just gotten himself under control.
He placed his hand on her shoulders, steadying her as she wobbled on those weird sandal shoes. He went to move away, but one of the dozens of jangly bracelets covering her wrists got caught on a thread of his towel. When Mo pulled her hand back to her side, his towel came with her, leaving August standing in front of his roommate, naked as the day he was born.
“Oh, wow.”
The soft exclamation left her lips as her gaze focused on him. Muttering a curse, he grabbed for his towel, still hanging by a thread from her bracelet. He tugged it, leaving a few terrycloth fibers on Mo’s jewelry. Not that she seemed to notice. Unlike him, she was not so polite as to avert her gaze when graced with an accidental peep show. Nope. Not Moira. She was looking her fill, and from the hunger in her eyes, she liked what she saw.
Puffed up his pride but it didn’t change any of the facts.
