His face tenses as I take him all the way, feeling his hands fist in my hair as I begin moving. He’s on the edge in seconds, his chest heaving as he thrusts into my mouth. He growls through a moan as I run my hands up his body, over his ink, and I watch as his eyes roll closed, head falling forward as the word “fuck” struggles to escape his lips.

I swallow three times, licking the length of him before sitting back on my heels. We stare at each other, him still trying to steady his breathing while I struggle to figure out what my next words should be.

Thanks?

Let’s not let that happen again?

Fuck you?

Max comes into the living room and ends all awkward silence with his clanging ID tags. I scramble to my feet, covering myself as Luke grabs his boxers and slips them on.

“That was—”

“I’m going to bed.” My words cut his off, and he blinks heavily before he turns away from me, picking up his shorts and stepping into them. “Sorry, what?”

He shakes his head, grabbing his T-shirt and shrugging it on. “Nothing. Come on, Max. Let’s go outside.”

I watch the two of them stalk toward the door as my brain tries to figure out what I interrupted. That was… fun? A mistake? Both?

Luke opens the door, snapping his fingers and getting Max’s attention. They both walk outside, and I wait, hopeful, for another look from Luke before the door closes, but I don’t get one.

I just slept with the guy I’ve spent the last year trying to forget.

Tessa Kelly, you are an idiot.

“God, you’re a fucking idiot.”

I run my hands down my face as Max sniffs around the small lawn in front of Tessa’s apartment building. A year, twelve fucking months of trying to dull out my obsession and I go and do the worst possible thing I could do right now. The feel of her pulsing around me as I proved exactly what I knew I could do to her body is staying with me like a phantom limb, causing me to sport a semi even after I’ve had relief.

No, not even relief. A blow-job from Tessa is way the hell more than that. I can give myself relief. What she gives me? There’s not a damn word invented yet to sum that experience up.

She faked it? Fuck that. I wasn’t about to let her try and deny everything I gave her. If she needed to be reminded of what I could do to her, then I’d suffer the consequences and let her come all over my fingers just to prove a point.

But the moment she said she needed more, I should’ve stopped. Protested. Fucking ran out of the room and locked myself in another. I knew exactly how this would play out. I knew I’d be completely screwing myself by satisfying the incessant need I’ve done a shit job at ignoring. But did that stop me? Did the thought of being more strung-out on her prevent me from acting on every impulse I had?

No. My cock saw an opportunity, and he took it.

Even with a condom, she’s still perfection, and that’s seriously fucking with me right now. Things would be a lot easier if the sex I just had was anything other than phenomenal, but I apparently forgot a few things about Tessa that I was quickly made aware of the moment I slid inside her.

One: Her tight, warm, unfairly flawless pussy will always hug my dick better than any other, and I’m a stupid motherfucker for thinking a condom would change that.

And two: She’s vulnerable in my arms, stripped of that rough exterior of hers that drives me completely wild, and that shit wrecks me. The look on her face, the sounds she gives me, the trust in her eyes as I take everything from her, reminding her how fucking good this is—nothing comes close to seeing that. It’s honest and raw and fucking real.

This is the side of her I’ll never stand a chance against. The side that has me saying shit I don’t want her to know. Or almost saying it, until she interrupts me.

“Max, come on.”

I follow behind him as he darts up the stairs to her level. He scratches on the door, pushing it open after a few thuds of his paw. I close and lock it the best I can, turning to see him go running down the hallway toward the bedroom.

“Fucking traitor,” I scoff under my breath, pulling my T-shirt off and grabbing my phone and charger out of my duffle.

I plug them into the nearest outlet before collapsing on the couch, wincing as the metal frame digs into my back. I punch the pillow under my head three times, trying to make it somewhat useable, but it’s uncomfortable as hell. As is the couch. I turn on my side, my back, my other side, trying to find some angle that will allow me at least a few hours of sleep. I roll onto my stomach, only to find that position completely out of the question. My cock knows what’s in the other room, and he also knows exactly what she wears to bed.

And I know just how comfortable that bed is, which is the only reason I’m walking down the hallway right now. Nothing else.

I stop in her doorway and take in the sight of her, illuminated by the hallway light. She’s sprawled out like I’m used to seeing, tangled in the covers with her wild hair fanned out around her. I’ve never seen someone take up as much room as Tessa does in a bed. It doesn’t seem possible, not with how tiny she is, but she does it, stretching her body like a damn starfish and looking way too sexy doing it.

She snores. She moves around constantly. She steals the comforter and talks in her sleep. Nothing about sharing a bed with her should be appealing, and if this were any other woman, I’d be waking up with the worst cramp after the shittiest night’s sleep on the couch.

But this is Tessa.

Max lifts his head from where he’s laying at the foot of the bed, stares at me for a few seconds, and resumes his position once he’s done judging me for standing here right now.