Page 47 of Knot Your Business

“Violet, you okay?” Faedra’s soft voice filters through the door.

An arm tightens around my waist and a body tenses against my back.

Last night washes over me, one long memory that has my body singing with arousal and yet aching in all the right places at the same time. Jasper’s lips press into my neck, his quiet chuckle a vibration against my skin.

“I’m fine,” I call out, not wanting to figure out how to get enough clothing on before it becomes suspiciously awkward for my best friend.

There’s a long pause. “Does this mean we’re not getting breakfast together?”

Oh shit. I’d forgotten in the midst of figuring out all the baggage with Jasper last night that I’d promised to go out this morning with Faedra. I sit up, cursing, and Jasper fucking laughs, not even trying for subtlety. I smack his arm, leveling him with a glare, but he doesn’t even look embarrassed, his grin wide and his posture relaxed as he rolls onto his back.

I can hear Faedra laughing through the door now, too. “I’ll see you later, Vi. Have fun.”

“Sounds good,” I say, trying for at least a modicum of dignity.

I’ve never once brought a hook-up back to our place. The fact that it’s happening now, only a few days before final move out, is incredibly ironic. At least it was with one of my matched pack and not a random stranger, right?

The front door closes a minute later, and then I’m turning toward Jasper, tossing my pillow at him as he laughs again, the sound so bright and full it pulls a smile from me, too.

“You didn’t have to make it so obvious,” I say.

He shrugs and sits up, the blanket dropping dangerously low on his hips.

“Faedra’s not oblivious,” he murmurs. “When you weren’t awake and ready to go, I’m sure she figured out I stayed.”

I tilt my head. “How do you know that would be what clued her in?”

He rolls his eyes. “Because you are the most punctual person I’ve ever met. If you’re the one running late, then there’s something wrong, either with the situation or your outfit.” He tilts his head toward the door. “And if I know that after not seeing you for four years, then I guarantee your best friend does, too.”

My cheeks heat, and he laughs again, reaching for me. His lips are soft, and I sink into him, letting him distract me from, well, everything else. The blanket falls lower, and holy crap I want to suck his dick. It lays hard and long against his hip, large enough that my fingers struggle to close around it. He stutters a gasp as I touch him, licking my lips in that universally understood question.

He groans and nods.

The moment I have my lips around the head, my tongue flicking across the top, his hands bury in my hair, tight enough I know his unspoken question. I pop off, letting my lips smack, and his hips thrust up.

“Let me enjoy it,” I say, smirking, and he groans.

He drops his head back, letting his hands fall from my hair. “Fuck, I knew I’d regret that last night.”

It takes another half an hour before we’re dressed and figuring out breakfast in the living room. He taps something into his phone.

“You have a kitchenette but not a private bathroom?” he asks, running his hands through his hair as he drops onto the couch. I scoff and grab a mug from the cabinet before turning on the electric kettle.

“It’s literally two doors down,” I say, pulling out my French Press.

Jasper laughs. “Not the point. How are we supposed to have hot morning-after sex if the bathroom isn’t private?”

My blood heats at the casual question, and I spin around, grabbing the counter to keep from getting dizzy. That small smirk is back, a relaxed feel about him I haven’t seen since the video call last week. Something soft and foreign bubbles in my chest at his trusting me enough to let down his defenses.

“Well, it’s not something I’ve had to worry about up to this point,” I say, rolling my eyes. “It’s something you just adapt to. And this one is the least busy of them in the building. It’s not really any worse than sharing a bathroom with roommates.”

His gaze flicks up to mine, surprise lighting them.

“What?” I glance down at the simple set of leggings and hoodie I threw on after we finally managed to drag ourselves out of my room half an hour ago. “Is there something wrong with my clothes?”

“Your outfit is fine, love,” Jasper says. When I glance back up at him, my brows furrowed, he’s halfway across the small room, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans. “What do you mean you haven’t had to worry about a date of yours needing to use the shared bathroom?”

“That’s not what I said,” I mutter, my cheeks flaring with heat.

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