Page 24 of Loud Hot Roomie
“Oh,” Rhett says, grinning and eyes flashing with mischief. “You actually like him and not for a quick fuck like your usual.”
The businessman is watching us again, but I ignore him. “I do. He’s just, uh, different than my usual type.”
“This isn’t a bad thing,” Rhett says to me and then addresses the man. “You heard my buddy, he’s into someone different than his usual.” He flicks his wrist toward the man as if to indicate he’s the norm for me, because he is. “You’re not bagging my boy here. Stop salivating all over your tie, fuckface.”
The man sneers at him and then snatches his stuff up before storming off. It was rude as hell, but Rhett is territorial over the people he cares about. I’m actually glad the guy is now gone and no longer staring at me.
“I want to know more about him than just his dick,” I blurt out. “I mean, I want to see his dick too, trust me. I want to get really, really familiar with it. But I also want to straddle his lap and kiss his handsome mouth for hours. I’m broken. Why am I broken?”
Rhett chuckles. “I’m pretty sure this is a healthier route for you. Maybe you’re not broken but something inside of you is fixing itself.”
I know I have daddy issues. Been having them since Dad started riding my ass about soccer and college and my future at the end of fifth grade.
“What do I do?”
He shrugs. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to kiss him, dammit.”
“So kiss him.”
“But what if I scare him away?” I say with a groan. “I don’t want to mess shit up with us.”
“There’s only one way to find out.” He playfully punches my arm. “Since when are you afraid of anything?”
I never cared until now.
There’s something about Derek that gets under my skin.
“He called me hubby and brought me cookies.” A stupid grin stretches over my face.
Rhett snorts out a laugh. “Is he hot?”
“So fucking hot,” I rush out. “The man has the finest ass in the world. I want to lick it.”
“What does he do? Do our dads know him?”
I grimace at the idea of dating anyone my dad knows ever again. Once was enough of a disaster. Not looking to repeat that drama again.
“Nah,” I say with a shrug. “He delivers packages. Comes home sweaty with his brown uniform clinging to him in all the right places.”
Rhett frowns. “For real? Wait, so he’s poor?”
My best friend is obsessed with money and power and success. He can be a dick about it sometimes.
“He’s not poor,” I grumble.
“But he’s obviously not making enough to live on his own without your assistance. Where did you move to anyway?”
“You wouldn’t know the area,” I deflect, not meeting his stare.
He pulls out his phone. “Tell me the address.”
After rattling off the address, I scowl at him, waiting for his judgment. His eyebrows lift and he sneers at me.
“What?” I demand, irritation clawing at me.
“You moved into that same shit hole Savvy went to?”
