Page 37 of Necessary Roughness
I nodded, but deep down I was thinking:there’s a future?
“See you in class tomorrow,” Knox said, striding into the hallway.
Logan started to follow, then stopped and turned around. “Oh. One last thing.”
“Hmm?” I asked.
He grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled me into a rough, quick kiss. It was hot and passionate andreal, so real, but it ended just as quickly as it began.
“We didn’t intend for any of this to happen tonight,” he whispered, his face still close to mine. “But I’m glad it did.”
14
Knox
“That went really well,” Logan said on the walk home.
That was an understatement. Three hours ago, I’d felt immensely disappointed that Sloane had canceled on us. I suspected she had cold feet, but the soup delivery really was made with the most innocent of intentions. All I’d wanted to do was make her more comfortable around us.
I never expected us to actually do anything.
Now I was disappointed that her roommate had interrupted us. If she hadn’t…
“I wish I’d known you were going to kiss her goodbye,” I muttered.
Logan barked a laugh and let his stride turn into a strut. “Can’t copy my swagger, bro. Not my fault you didn’t make a move.”
“I thought the vibe was ruined thanks to her roommate.”
“There’s your problem. You’ve got to make your own vibe.” He sighed happily. “Sloane is fucking great. Even if this whole arrangement doesn’t pan out, I’d hang out with her just as friends.”
“Same,” I said absently. I could still feel her skin underneath my palm, her tongue probing into my mouth…
There was just one problem.
“Is our agreement still in place?” I wondered out loud.
“It fucking better be,” Logan exclaimed. “That kiss was such a tease. I might go insane if I never get to do more with that girl. Like watching the first ten minutes of Die Hard.Justthe first ten minutes.” He shivered.
“We’ll see,” I said.
When I closed my eyes that night, it was Sloane’s face I saw in my dreams. Smiling at me in class. Giggling on the couch while we watched a movie. Throwing popcorn at me, then snuggling up against my arm.
They were the kind of dreams that stuck with me long after I’d gotten out of bed the next morning. When I eventually took a shower, I closed my eyes, allowed my hand to drift down between my legs, and stroked myself to a quick—and intense—orgasm, my sighs echoing off the shower tiles.
When I emerged from the bathroom and went to the kitchen to get a drink, Roman stared at me with curiosity in his dark eyes.
“What?” I asked.
“Didn’t say anything,” he replied in a voice that sounded like a rockslide.
“You’re thinking something.” I opened the fridge. “I can tell.”
“Usually am.”
I gave him a look.
“You had fun last night,” he finally said.
