Page 142 of My Ruthless Neighbor

When he is back, he slides beside me and pulls me in his arms. “Are you all right, Summer?”

Oh, I am Summer now?

My eyebrows bunch together but I am glad that it’s dark in here and he can’t see it.

“Yeah, I am fine.” I pull away and sit up. “I’ll go clean up,” I mumble and climb off the bed, rushing to the bathroom on shaky legs.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Iwas terrified. Of myself. Of the deep disappointment I felt that almost killed the afterglow of my orgasm.

I try to block out the voices whispering in my ears and push the door behind me distractedly.

The oddest sensation in my chest lingers. Him calling me by my name was like coming back to reality. A reality where I was just a model his agency is representing who also lives right next door to him.

Maybe I am overthinking again. Because when he returned to bed, he did pull me closer and asked if I was all right. So he wasn’t exactly shutting me out. Right? So why am I hung up on him not calling me baby and instead switching back to Summer.

Taking my socks off, I move to step inside the shower. Sighing when the warm water hits me.

Now that he is done, he is free to leave. I don’t want him to but I am not going to stop him should he choose to.

If he left now, it would maybe save us both from the awkwardness later.

I mentally scold myself when the pang of emptiness hits at the thought of him leaving.

We know each other physically and know how we sound like when we are in the throes of passion. But it’s also true that emotionally we are still strangers.

Then why was I feeling so freaking emotional over this?

It takes all my remaining energy to reach for the shower gel. I should’ve opted for a bath instead.

“There you are.” The gruff voice startles me and I whirl around, the shower gel bottle slipping from my fingers.

It lands at Archer’s feet, missing him by an inch.

My eyes immediately latches on to his semi-hard cock and widens when it grows harder under my watch.

He bends down to lift it and enters the stall and closes the glass door behind him. I blink several times, finding it hard to believe that he’s here instead of leaving.

I am so distracted by the water sluicing over his skin that I don’t notice him stalking forward until he has my back against the tiled wall.

Bracing his hand on the wall beside my head, he leans closer. “What were you doing?”

“Taking a shower?” I answer lamely.

“Why?”

“Because…” We had some seriously hot sex and it made us both sweaty and dirty. And also, I was stalling to face you because I didn’t want you to feel that I am the kind of girl that gets clingy after sex.

Of course, my tongue decides to quit working and makes me look like a complete idiot.

With his free hand, he pushes the wet strands that were covering his forehead back. The move was so hot that I want to reach up and ruffle his hair just so he could do it again.

He grips my wrists and starts dragging me out of the shower. I pull my hand away or try to because he doesn’t release me. “What are you doing?”

“There’s no need to shower.”

“But I am dirty!” I groan and he pulls me to him, my nipples rubbing against his chest. “Not dirty enough.”

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