“Yesss,” she draws out as her hand falls to my hair. She grips the strands tightly and moans as I lap up her already aroused pussy.

She’s so close. Her legs squeeze at my shoulders, the tremble in her hands, which loosely grip my hair.

“I won’t ever get over how you taste,” I say while taking long, lapping strokes and inserting two fingers inside of her. “I could eat you all goddamn day.” Stroke after stroke, the tension in her core grows tighter and tighter until her fingers dig deep into my scalp and her hips shift.

“Huxley, I’m going . . . oh fuck, I’m coming,” she shouts as I hold her pelvis down, making it impossible for her to move as I eat her out, pleasure her how I want her to be pleasured.

She moans, her voice echoing off the tile.

She yells my name when I don’t let up, taking every last ounce of her orgasm from her.

And when she slowly relaxes, I give her a few more strokes before pulling away slightly, only to give her a kiss on her pussy.

When I stand, she looks up at me, her eyes showing disbelief. Her hand shakily moves up her body, to her neck. She searches me as she catches her breath, and I’m not sure what’s on her mind, what she might say, so I decide to beat her to it.

“Have a good night,” I say, before stepping out of the shower. I have to cut it off here. I have to get the fuck away, or else I can see myself taking her back to her bed and fucking her through the night until she can’t take my cock anymore.

Regret for leaving her pulses through me, but I push past it and grab one of her spare towels, wrap it around my waist, and head toward my bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

Dazed, confused, and unsure of what came over me, I enter my bathroom, where I flip on the shower and rest under the hot water, trying to gather myself.

What the actual fuck am I doing?

I’m blurring lines all over the goddamn place, and now that I’ve had her mouth on me, I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. Not after seeing her take me so deep, after the way she drank every last drop of my come.

I won’t be able to get that image out of my head. Not for a very long time.

And as I step out of the shower to dry off, all I can think about is how I want to go back across the hallway and explore Lottie’s body. How I want to thank her for putting up with my shit. For opening me up when I don’t really want to be opened up.

I stare at myself in the mirror and slowly drag my hand over my scruff, the same scruff that marked Lottie on her inner thighs as mine. What the actual hell are you doing, man?

And why do you look . . . happy?

Happy in a moment when I shouldn’t be happy, because chaos is swallowing me whole. The deal, the lies, the blurred lines . . . it’s all up in the air—something I don’t normally put up with—but here I am . . . dealing with it.

Christ.

My phone beeps on my nightstand and I glance over at it, wondering what the hell time it is.

I take a seat in my towel on my bed and read it.

Lottie: Your mouth is absolutely decadent. I love coming on your tongue.

Fuck.

Is she trying to get me hard again?

Huxley: I can’t get enough of your pussy or your trembling clit.

I drag my hand over my mouth, willing my body to not get excited again. Once tonight is enough. Crossing the line more than that is asking for trouble.

Lottie: I’ve only come like that for you. No one else. Only. You.

Yup, she’s trying to get me hard again, she’s trying to entice me. She wants more. I can feel it deep in my bones.

Huxley: Are you naked on your bed right now?

Lottie: How did you know?

Huxley: You’re trying to get me to come back to your bedroom.

Lottie: I want your dick inside of me, Huxley. My legs are spread, my nipples are hard, my body is heated just thinking about it.

My cock jolts and I grind my molars, trying to keep it together.

Huxley: I’m not coming back over there.

Even though I want to. Fuck do I want to sink myself between her legs. But I’m growing addicted, and that needs to stop. I have no idea where her head is at, if this is just fun for her while we pass the time, but I can see that it would be more for me, and I’m not about to risk it. I place my phone down, thinking that Lottie won’t respond after that last text. Is she angry? Frustrated? Confused? Everything I feel too?

Lottie: If you won’t come back over here, then will you reconsider answering my two questions?

I let out a deep sigh and push my hand through my hair. She still wants to know me . . .

But I still need to keep boundaries.

Huxley: Those are dinner questions only.

Lottie: Please, Huxley?

And just like that, the conversation switches from sexually charged to innocent. I can hear her voice saying those two words, asking me, begging me, to participate.

I apparently have no willpower, because I nod even though she can’t see me and text her back.

Huxley: What are your questions?

Lottie: Thank you. How about I ask the two questions and we both have to answer?

Huxley: Fine.

Lottie: Your enthusiasm is infectious.

Huxley: You’re on borrowed time . . .

Lottie: Okay, question number one—what would you say is your favorite quality about yourself?

Huxley: Not sure where you’re going with this but I guess I’d answer my drive.

Lottie: I could see that.

Huxley: What’s your favorite thing about yourself?

Lottie: My loyalty, even though it got me into trouble with Angela. I think having loyalty is very important. Another reason why I’m sticking to my word and going breast-pump shopping with Ellie.

Huxley: Being loyal is a very admirable quality.

Lottie: Okay, second question—what do you like most about me? And I’ll answer what I like most about you.

Huxley: Fishing for compliments?

Lottie: Since we’re working together and you tend to pull away a lot, I thought it would be beneficial if we say what we like about each other. As a reminder.

Huxley: Okay. I like that you’re loyal.

Lottie: No way, you can’t use the thing I said. Come on, Huxley, I know it might be painful for you to offer me a compliment, but you can at least try.

My lips press against my teeth in frustration as I flop back on my bed. Okay, she wants to know what I like about her, might as well tell her.

Huxley: You’re fearless. You might not make the right decision all the time, but no matter what, you go into the situation without fear and you don’t hold back. It’s a characteristic you don’t find with many people. Pair that with loyalty, and it makes you someone I’d spend time with.

She doesn’t reply right away and I worry if I overstepped, if I said too much, but then there’s a knock on the doorframe of my door. I sit up and find Lottie standing there in one of the many lingerie sets I had purchased for her.

This one is red. The shorts are loose-fitting, made entirely of lace and see-through. The top is cropped at the belly button and offers no support. Therefore, her breasts just float freely.

Yup, she’s easily the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

“What’s up?” I ask, feeling uncomfortable from my honest text and also, once again turned on.

“Wanted to see if what you said was the truth.”

“Why would I lie to you? Have I lied to you yet?”

“No,” she says. “But . . . I don’t know, just felt as if I needed to see your face.”