Page 24 of Don't Date Your Nemesis

“I mean, I don’t have a condom, Deepika,” I deadpanned, feeling my face heat.

This is not how this was supposed to go. I was supposed to smirk my way through the sex while she clung to me the next morning, asking for my number because I dick-matized her.

“But you were here with Valentina,” she shot back, blinking up at me as if I had grown a second head.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Valentina is a good friend. She was my date, not my Saturday night conquest. I wasn’t going to sleep with her.”

She just stared at me, her mouth slightly agape.

“Wow,” I said, crossing my arms as my ego took a direct hit. “So you really think I’m just some dirty pervert who can’t keep his dick in his pants if someone walks by in a skirt?”

“Well, yeah,” she said, nodding slowly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I closed my eyes, rubbing my temples. I could feel the sweat slicking my skin as I sighed. How the hell had my reputation spiraled so far from the truth? When I opened them, Deepika was biting her lip, her shoulders shaking with a suppressed giggle.

“What?” I grumbled.

“Nothing,” she squeaked, the giggle breaking through.

“This is so fucking stupid,” I said, about to get off the bed. I couldn’t do this. My pride was taking a beating and my balls were screaming.

“There’s one in my purse,” Deepika said, trying to sober up.

I froze again, my head snapping toward her. “You were going to fuck Marcus Reynolds?!”

Deepika rolled her eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck. “No, you fucking idiot. He’s g—he’s just a friend. It’s for emergencies.”

I didn’t ask questions and lunged for her purse on the floor, dumping the contents onto the other bed that was empty. Contents flew out of the tiny purse like lip gloss, a few crumpled bills, sanitizer, a tampon—and there they were.

A strip of two condoms.

“Did you have to shove everything out to get them?” Deepika asked, her tone full of annoyance.

I held them up, wriggling my eyebrows, the metallic crinkle of the foil sounding like a victory march.

She deadpanned, “They might be too large for you.”

“Might be too small, you mean.” I huffed, tearing the foil open with my teeth. The sharp scent of latex filled the air. “Who were you trying to fuck with these?”

I bet I have a bigger dick than Marcus.

“Anyone but you,” she shot back.

I shrugged, rolling the latex down and feeling the agonizingly tight relief of it. I grabbed her ankles, yanking her back toward the center of the bed. “Too late for that, don’t you think, darling?”

The air between us shifted as I settled between her legs. As the blunt head of my cock pressed against her wet, pulsing entrance, we both took a sharp, jagged breath. She was so slippery, so incredibly hot, that I nearly lost it right then.

“Be gentle,” she whispered, her voice trembling with a vulnerability that punched the air out of my lungs.

I wanted to tell her that she was safe. I wanted to tell her I’d go as slow as she needed. Instead, I just nodded, my jaw tight, and gripped her hips so hard my knuckles turned white. I slid in.

Fuck.

It was both heaven and hell. She was so tight, every internal muscle clamping around me like a velvet glove. The heat of her pussy was too fucking perfect. It felt like being buried in molten gold. I stopped, my vision blurring, my forehead resting against hers as our breaths mingled in hot, desperate puffs.

“Oh... fuck,” she gasped, her eyes fluttering shut.

I groaned, burying my face in the crook of her neck. I moved slowly at first, a shallow pull and a deep, agonizing shove, letting her body stretch to take me.