Say You're Mine(16)

It was her fault.

She didn’t even dare to breathe, one foot still frozen in the air. It wasn’t too late to turn around and go back in her room. To pretend she hadn’t seen him looking so upset. But this was Steven, and he was the most important person in the world to her, and he was probably worried she would hate him now…

And she couldn’t do that to him.

His head dropped back against the couch. “Lauren,” he groaned, his tone strained.

Hugging herself, she took a deep breath and walked around the corner of the couch. “Look, I’m sorry about—”

The words choked her and turned into a gasp.

She’d noticed he was awake, but she hadn’t seen was what he was doing. But, oh my God, she did now. Every. Single. Detail.

He sat on the couch, with his dress shirt unbuttoned. If not for what he was doing, she easily could have gotten caught up in his hard pecs, and even harder abs. And the light dusting of reddish blond hair on his chest was enthralling.

There was no other word for it.

Except maybe…addictive.

But the real show was taking place further south. His navy blue, pleated khakis were unbuttoned and unzipped, and his huge cock jutted out, erect and wanting, and his hand had been moving up and down the hard length with a strength that she couldn’t look away from. Or ever forget. And, even though she should, she—

Oh my God, she couldn’t look away.

Nothing could make her.

He froze mid-pump. She probably should have turned away, or covered her eyes, but she was too busy staring at his impressive length, and the long blue vein that ran up the side of his shaft. His large hand still held on to his huge erection, and his jaw hung open, as if he didn’t have a clue what to say.

Neither did she.

She’d literally just caught him with his cock in his hand.

So she just stared. And stared some more. My God.

“Well.” Swallowing so hard his Adam’s apple bobbed, he straightened. “This isn’t awkward or anything,” he said drily.

“Y-You… I…” She finally covered her face. “Oh my God. Seriously? On my couch? I just bought it!”

The rustling of fabric as he tucked his erection away was the only sound.

She peeked through her fingers. He didn’t look any less hard. As far as she could tell, if anything, he seemed even harder than before she’d walked in. “It was either that, or in your bed. I figured you’d prefer the former.”

“You obviously did.” And just like that, the embarrassment and shock gave way to anger. A couple of hours ago, she offered herself up to him, and he refused. Made her feel like he didn’t want her, or find her attractive, when he obviously did. And now he took what could have been—no, should have been—hers. “Was that supposed to…to…hurt me?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.” He blinked, standing up unsteadily. He set down his glass, sloshing it over the side and onto her table. “How the hell is me jerking off a direct insult to you, when you weren’t even supposed to see it, or find out it happened at all?”

He stood there like some sort of untamed sex god, with his pants undone, his cock hard, and his shirt open. All mussed hair and sex. And it wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. “You let me think you didn’t want me. Let me go to bed alone, ashamed that I threw myself at you, when you clearly weren’t attracted to me. And the whole time, you’re out here…doing that.”

“I assure you I wasn’t jacking off for hours.” A muscle in his jaw ticked, and he drove his hand through his hair. “I was just trying to sleep, and I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about earlier. So I decided to ease a need that wouldn’t shut the hell up so I could finally get some shut-eye. That’s it.”

She stomped up to him and smacked his shoulder. He didn’t even flinch. It, of course, didn’t hurt him. The man had the pain tolerance of a cement post and was just as hard…in more ways than one. “You shouldn’t have been doing that at all. It should have been me doing that. It should have been mine.”

He caught her wrist, his warm hand closing around it easily. The same hand that had been on his erection moments before. Her stomach tightened in response. “You were drunk, and if we fucked, you’d regret it in the morning. You’re not just some girl in a bar, Lauren. I refuse to treat you like one for an orgasm. Is that so damn wrong?”

No. It wasn’t wrong at all.

It was one of the things that made him such a good guy.

But her cheeks were red hot with embarrassment, and her stomach was twisting with desire, and screw being reasonable. She’d rather be naked and screaming his name. “I wasn’t that drunk.”