Page 55 of Run, Run, Roommates
“No, it’s not.” That makes me think, and Brin keeps stroking while I do. “William is shallow, spoiled, flighty, and obsessively picky, but he also has high standards and the means to make it happen. People aren’t used to him, but I am. And he never has asked me to do anything immoral or illegal, unlike the tech bros.”
“Some people might mistake what you do for being an asshole, but I don’t. I see a man with a high moral compass, someone who wants to follow rules and meet expectations. So what if Billy Bob wants powdered sugar on his crème brûlée.”
I groan and laugh against her chest. “Cocoa powder on his eggnog.”
“Whatever,” Brin continues. “He’s allowed to have his preferences. He’s allowed to have who he wants at his party.” Brin puts her hands on my jaw and lifts my face up to hers. “What were you and Joe arguing about when he called you an asshole?”
The sting of thinking about it makes my whole body tighten. “We found our landlord in our apartment. No notice or anything, just used his master key and walked right in. We didn’t know what he was doing in there. I wanted to hire a lawyer. But Joe’s best friend, who we were living with, wanted to stay in the apartment and ‘have a talk’ with him. Joe was stuck between the two of us and had just been laid off from his job.”
“Aw, honey.” Brin looks at me with such tenderness. “Joe was in a hard place. It wasn’t really about you.” She touches her nose to mine and I wrap my arms around her. “Marco. You are enough.”
30
Marco
We lie on the couch, cuddling and talking until she has to go to work. I think about Brin’s words. Part of my brain keeps thinking, “Yeah but she doesn’t know . . .” as if looking for excuses not to believe her.
I accidentally drift off waiting for her to get home, and when I get up to run the next morning, Brin is rock-solid asleep.
When I’m back from my run, she’s at brunch with Bea. The minute I hear her key in the door I’m on my feet.
Brin leaps at me and I catch her, mouth already bearing down on hers.
“Bea’s not with you?” I ask between kisses.
“She’s at Charlie’s,” Brin explains, pulling my T-shirt over my head. “All weekend.”
I groan and walk backward to the couch. “What time do you have to go to work?” When my knees hit the edge, I sit, Brin in my lap. She quickly wriggles off. “What are you?—”
Brin tugs at my waistband, making her intentions clear. As soon as my dick is free, she licks the length of it.
She pauses to look up at me. “I have to leave in twenty minutes.” And then she sucks me as far down as she can.
My fists are balled at my side and I’m using every ounce of restraint to not grab her. I don’t even know what I would do if I did—I just know that I simultaneously want this and a million other things at the same time.
Brin hums, one hand holding my dick straight up while she licks and sucks the top. “I like doing this,” she says.
“It feels really good,” I tell her, panting. She works me over, teasing and tasting until I’m vibrating with tension.
She smiles and presses a kiss to the tip. “Put your hands behind your head?”
“Bossy.” I do as requested. My sweatpants and boxer-briefs are around my ankles now.
Brin’s eyes run over my chest and arms, gaze heating as she takes me in. I stretch and flex for her.
She retaliates by sucking me into her throat as deeply as she can again. I hiss and curve around her, but it’s too late.
“Brin, I’m gonna come,” I warn her.
She backs off enough to give herself breathing room and I blow, Brin swallowing as I pulse inside her mouth. “Okay, okay.” I pull away when I get too sensitive.
Brin sits back. On her heels, looking smug and the most confident I’ve seen her. Soon, I hope to put that look on her face any time we’re intimate.
“Okay, I’ve got to go to work,” she says, popping up from the floor.
“Wait, wait. I want to make you come. I can be quick.”
“Tempting,” she teases. “But I don’t want to rush.”
