Page 89 of End Game

Beautiful.

Flirtatious.

A little demanding—in a hot way. Not in anI’m the man, do as I sayway.

Yet I’m turning him down. I’m telling him what happened last night was a mistake and it’s best we remain friends. That’s it.

What in the world is wrong with me?

But seriously, how can I remain his friend when I know how good it is between us? How it has the potential to be even better if we just give it a chance?

“Wait a sec. Did you just compare me to your shitty ex?” He sounds a little pissed.

“You’re nothing like Brad,” I immediately say.

“No kidding,” he mutters.

I’ve told my roommates enough about Brad that they all hate him. He is the complete opposite of every single one of the guys I live with.

Especially Nico.

“But you’re not great in a relationship. You’ve admitted that to me before,” I remind him.

“We can’t just fuck around and see where it takes us?” he asks hopefully.

Heaven forbid we put a label on what we’re doing.

“You’ll get bored with me.” My voice is flat, my annoyance on full display. I’m not interested in “fucking around” to see where it takes us.

He studies my face, his eyelids falling to half-mast, giving him this sleepy, sexy look that has my heart beating a little faster than usual. “What ifyouget bored withme?”

“I doubt that will happen.” I actually snort, which is sort of embarrassing.

His lips curve into a closed-mouth smile that only adds to his appeal. “I won’t get bored with you, Ever. Not after last night.”

I should not take that as a compliment. I don’t even know what he means exactly. “What are you talking about?” I ask warily.

He dips his head, his mouth at my ear, his hands pressing against the door on either side of my head, caging me in with his big body. “You were a dirty girl.”

That sort of remark should not make me want to melt, but here I go, my bones feeling like they could turn to mush at any second. “Not really.”

“You are.” His lips skim the edge of my earlobe, making me shiver. “I practically had you bent over backward last night when I was going down on you. Remember?”

Oh God. He’s right. At one point I felt like a gymnast, my body contorted in all sorts of unusual positions.

“And don’t forget that I had you begging for it,” he continues in that smooth, seductive tone.

“I was?” Hmm. I don’t remember begging. Did I?

Probably.

“Uh-huh.” He licks me behind my ear, his mouth drifting down the length of my neck. I can feel him getting hard, and I spread my legs a little to accommodate for it. “Kept saying please over and over when I asked if you wanted me to tongue-fuck you.”

I lock my knees so they don’t buckle. “I did not.”

He chuckles, the sound making me throb between my thighs. “Yeah, you did.”

I slide my hands up his bare chest, savoring his smooth, hard skin. He’s warm and solid and so freaking ripped. I take him in, the midafternoon sun spilling into his room from the uncovered window, highlighting all his best parts, which are ... every single part of him.

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