Room Mates_The Series Read online

  My insides clenched violently. Fuck.

  Now it was his turn to smirk. “You having a problem there?”

  I spread my hands in a who me? gesture, my wine sloshing a little in its glass. “Jeez, Cannon. I’m sorry, I’m just a little fucking thrown off here. You’re Allie’s kid brother.”

  His smile was devilish. “We’re both adults now, Paige. There’s no reason we can’t discuss sex without it turning weird. Besides, you’re the one who brought it up.”

  I grumbled, but couldn’t argue. That much was true. “So, what happened after that?”

  “I tried another tactic. For a while last year, I temporarily swore off sex.”

  “All of it?”

  “Well, I’m no saint. Oral was still on the menu. But the actual act of penetration was not.”

  I made a noise of surprise. Was he serious or just trying to get a rise out of me?

  “Turns out women get pretty angry when you refuse to fuck any part of them except their mouths. Even if I offered to return the favor, they took it as a personal insult.”

  “You think? God, do you hear yourself? You sound like an egomaniacal dick.”

  He shrugged, a sexy smirk pulling up his lips. “Just protecting my interests.”

  “Which are?” I knew he was driven, but I didn’t know what his precise goals were. Not really, anyway.

  “My mom and sister have been through a lot. They’ve done so much to make sure I get where I am today. I’m this close to graduating med school and landing a residency. I won’t let pussy, or a woman who thinks we’re suddenly in love because I fucked her better than her boyfriend ever could, ruin my future.”

  The only reply I could manage was “Well said.”

  During the entire conversation, my heart had been hammering away in my chest. This sexy, forbidden man was giving me a glimpse into his sex life. I could only imagine women throwing themselves at him. Not only was he gorgeous, but he was also a doctor. And if he was telling the truth about how big his cock was . . .

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked.

  My heart beat fast and loud and hot. “So you really believe that after sleeping with you one time, women fall in love with you?”

  He nodded. “I wish it wasn’t true, but yeah, that’s what I’m telling you.”

  Something snapped inside me.

  Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the twinkle in his mischievous eyes. Hell, it could have been the eager bulge in his pants, but the fixer in me wanted to help—wanted to prove him wrong. Of course I wanted to experience true love one day, but in the meantime, I was damn near lightheaded at the idea of having a hot tryst.

  “What if I could prove you wrong?” My voice was surprisingly steady for how nervous I suddenly felt.

  “What are you saying?” His posture was stiff, as if his body was coiled tight, all his muscles on alert.

  Wicked thoughts flashed through my brain. I tried like hell to talk myself out of them, but fuck, I’d seen this man naked, and now we were living under the same roof.

  “Are you willing to put your money where your mouth is?”

  “And have sex with you?” His lips twitched, distracting me.

  My eyes met his and held. I didn’t even need to say yes out loud.

  “What’s in this for you?” he asked.

  “Aside from a few orgasms? The chance to prove your theory is bullshit.”

  He pushed his hands into his hair and stared up at the ceiling. “Fuck.” His voice was thick and laced with need.

  Boring Paige had vanished, and in her place, the new Paige was saucy, sexual, and daring. I felt alive and brazen and wicked. I hadn’t felt anything like this in the longest time. Besides, we only had to live together for two months. What was the worst that could happen?

  “When do we start?” I murmured. The alcohol must have been hitting me much harder than I’d thought, because holy shit, what?

  He sat forward again. His sin-soaked smile sent the thrill of victory through me. I had won; I was going to get everything I craved. He reached out to stroke his thumb along my cheek, and I couldn’t have stopped myself leaning into his touch if I’d wanted to.

  “I’m not fucking you when you’re drunk.” His voice was far too husky to be saying something like that. “Sleep on it. If you still want to do this tomorrow, I’m game.” And then he rose to his feet and disappeared down the hall.

  Part of me was pissed off—not to mention so horny I could scream. But most of me was relieved. I unsteadily rose to my feet and headed down the hall for my bedroom. That suggestion had passed “bold” and gone straight into “completely insane.”

  Cannon had been a gentleman, giving me an out. It was probably for the best. I was sure that by tomorrow morning, I’d come to my senses.

  At least, I hoped so.

  Chapter Nine

  Paige

  When I woke up, I was sure last night had just been a bad dream. Then I swung my legs over the side of the bed and saw the champagne-colored cocktail dress crumpled on my floor, frowning as memories of last night clawed at the edges of my brain. But the wet nose of a certain little fluff ball nudged me again. Enchilada had to pee.

  I steeled myself and tiptoed into the hall. The house was totally quiet. Cannon’s bedroom door was mostly shut, and I rushed past it. I grabbed the leash from the counter, and that’s when I saw it.

  A Post-it note was stuck to my coffeemaker, Cannon’s messy handwritten scrawled across the paper.

  We need to talk.

  Four little words shouldn’t have had the ability to make me break out in hives, but when the reality of last night came crashing back, I had to grip the counter for support. I had actually seriously propositioned Cannon for sex. This was the reality I had to deal with now. Hanging my head in my hands, I inhaled deeply.

  If I could stay in my room and hide all day, I would. But then Enchilada let out another whimper.

  “Okay. Come on, buddy.” I grabbed his leash and slipped my feet into my shoes, and then Enchilada and I were safely outside without making a scene.

  I breathed a sigh of relief as we crossed the street to our customary patch of grass . . . and that was when I noticed that Cannon’s car was gone. The sinking feeling in my stomach quickly bloomed into full-on panic.

  Oh God, had I driven him away with my insane suggestion last night? Maybe he’d gone straight to Allie this morning, told her he was no longer comfortable staying here. I had sexually harassed her baby brother. Holy shit, she was never going to talk to me ever again. I stared at the distant Huron River as Enchilada did his business, and fantasized about throwing myself in.

  When Enchilada finished, I gathered him into my arms, holding him tight to my chest as I dashed back inside. The door to Cannon’s room had been left ajar, and I nudged it open a few inches further to peek inside. The futon was back into its couch position, and the blankets were folded on top of the desk. His duffel bag and a couple of shopping bags were in the corner. So his stuff was still here, but I wasn’t the least bit comforted.

  His note was clear and to the point—but what the hell was I going to say to him?

  Sure I’d made a colossal mistake last night, I busied myself making coffee and breakfast. Then I took a shower, as if going through the motions of shampooing, shaving, and blow-drying would make everything better.

  I couldn’t wait for this weekend to be over. I’d never wanted it to be Monday morning so badly before in my entire life. I thought if I could disappear into the office, I could lose myself in my weekly routines and obligations, then everything would go back to normal.

  Oh, how wrong I was.

  I heard a large truck pull up outside and stop, its engine idling. Then a there was a knock on the door.

  A man wearing a name badge that read Hank smiled at me and held out a clipboard. “Morning, ma’am. If you’ll sign right here.”

  I took the pen and looked down at the page in front of me. “What’s this for?”r />
  Hank tapped the page again. “It’s an acknowledgment of pickup and delivery.”

  Two more men bustled past me into the house and into Cannon’s bedroom. What the hell is going on? They came out carrying the futon.

  My stomach churned. Oh fuck, he was really moving out. This was it . . . and it would only be a matter of time before Allie cut me out of her life forever. My heart threatened to stop beating.

  My phone rang and I grabbed it from the counter, answering without bothering to check the caller ID.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Paige. It’s Cannon.”

  I’d never been so mortified in my entire life. I wanted to crawl into a hole and die. The need to right this situation before it spiraled even further out of control flared up inside me.

  “I am so sorry about last night. I never meant to make you feel awkward.” I released a slow, shaky breath, waiting for him to say something.

  “So you don’t want to fuck me?”

  I flinched at his words. Physically, of course I did. But it wasn’t worth the emotional turmoil that came with it. Even now, deep in emotional turmoil, my body still reacted to him. But he clearly didn’t want that. He was repulsed, in fact. God, I was such a fucking idiot.

  My voice quivered as I tried to salvage whatever personal pride I could. “I’m so sorry. I never meant to cause any issues. I don’t want you to think you have to move out.”

  “Move out?” His tone was unsure. “Who said anything about moving out?”

  “There are men here removing the futon from your bedroom.” Crossing the room to the front window, I peeked out. They had a huge white mattress wrapped in plastic and were hauling it from the back of the truck.

  “What? Crap, I’m sorry.” He sighed. “Let me start over. I got called into the hospital on short notice and forgot to tell you I’m having a bed delivered today. I couldn’t sleep on that futon anymore. But they weren’t supposed to take the damn thing. It’s yours.”

  The men squeezed the mattress through the door and headed for Cannon’s room. Suddenly everything made sense. Cannon wasn’t mad. He wasn’t leaving. In fact, he was making himself more at home.

  “Paige? You there?”

  “I’m here,” I said after a few moments of silence. “Don’t worry about the futon. It wouldn’t have fit with the bed in there, anyway.”

  “Are you okay?” he asked. “If you changed your mind about us . . .”

  “Did you?” I asked, my heart resuming its gallop for very different reasons than before.

  The delivery crew marched past with the bed frame while I waited for Cannon to answer.

  “I’ve been hard since last night thinking about it. I’ve wanted you for ten years, Paige.”

  His admission sent a fresh wave of desire rushing through me. “I didn’t change my mind.” My voice was uncharacteristically soft.

  “I’ll be home at seven thirty,” he said.

  “Dinner?” I asked.

  “I take my break at five, and I usually eat then.”

  “Okay. Seven thirty,” I repeated. I’d probably be too nervous to eat anyhow. “I’ll see you then.”

  Once I’d closed the door behind the delivery crew, I wandered back to Cannon’s bedroom, feeling almost dazed. The huge king-sized bed took up most of the room, an imposing and ominous sign.

  Am I really going to go through with this?

  Chapter Ten

  Cannon

  “Have you decided yet?” Dr. Stinson asked, standing beside me.

  I looked down at the options again and frowned. Turkey meat loaf or lasagna. If I was going to rock Paige’s world tonight, I wanted to eat light. I didn’t want a stomach full of heavy food to impact my performance.

  “I might just hit the salad bar,” I said, turning to see if the offerings looked wilted.

  Dr. Stinson chuckled. “I wasn’t asking if you’d decided on dinner. I meant your specialty. You have a clear talent for setting the opposite sex at ease. You’d make a great women’s care practitioner.”

  Grabbing a tray from the stack, I followed him to the salad bar. “I’ve been thinking more about, uh . . .”

  The first thing that jumped into my mind was cardiology. That was what I’d said when Paige had asked. But that was Dr. Stinson’s specialty, and I knew if I said that, he’d start talking my ear off. And I really wanted a break from intense career discussions right now.

  “Plastic surgery,” I finally blurted.

  “Hmm. A tit man, eh?” He chuckled as he heaped his plate with spinach.

  I wasn’t sure how to take his reaction, but it didn’t really matter. It was my decision to make.

  Actually, maybe plastic surgery wasn’t such a bad idea. With the aging baby-boomer population and Hollywood’s obsession with appearance, plastic surgery was a growing field. The money would be damn good. I could build up a nest egg for Mom, then change focus to something like pediatric craniofacial surgery. That would give me a chance to travel abroad—get involved in one of those international charity missions that helped kids born with cleft palates and other facial deformities, providing minor reconstructive surgeries they wouldn’t otherwise have access to.

  Then again, the prospect of grinding through years of breast augmentations and mommy makeovers sounded like watching paint dry. If it wasn’t something I was passionate about, something that interested me, I knew I’d burn out and my work would suffer. And just about any kind of medicine could be put to good use helping the needy. I could pick something else.

  When Dr. Stinson cleared his throat, I realized I’d been blocking the tomatoes for almost thirty seconds. Dammit . . . this was exactly my problem. There were too many options, and I had too many factors to consider. I wanted a specialty that wouldn’t bore the shit out of me, made enough money to support Mom as well as myself, gave me an excuse to travel, and let me help the needy. Was there a way to have it all? Or would I have to sacrifice some of my priorities?

  I piled spring mix onto my plate as my mind wandered to the stack of paperwork I needed to complete before I could leave tonight. I hadn’t allowed myself to think about tonight because I couldn’t exactly walk around the hospital with a raging hard-on all day. I focused on the work in front of me, never once allowing my mind to wander to the pleasure awaiting me at home. Aside from that one phone call to check on Paige and let her know about the delivery, I’d pushed it all from my mind out of necessity.

  But now, with only a couple of hours to go, I was practically itching to get my hands on her. If she’d changed her mind, I might fucking burst. Death by blue balls. If it wasn’t already a medical condition, it was about to become one.

  • • •

  After leaving the hospital, I decided to make a quick stop at the store. Though I wanted to get home as quickly as possible, there were a few necessities I needed. I picked up a box of condoms and a set of sheets for my new bed.

  The cashier at Target probably thought I was insane. At the very least, she thought I was getting laid tonight, and she was right. Part of me wanted to really throw her over the edge by adding a can of whipped cream and a package of zip ties to my basket, but I didn’t want to give the old lady a heart attack. I was off duty and didn’t need another medical emergency on my hands.

  It was dark outside by the time I pulled up in front of Paige’s place. A small lamp glowed through the living room window.

  I wondered if she’d spent the day as anxious as I’d been. As much as I tried to tell myself it was no big deal, tonight was different from a random hookup. This was Paige, a woman I’d grown up with and secretly lusted after for more than a decade. I hoped that whatever happened wouldn’t jeopardize our friendship or her relationship with my sister. But as long as we remembered the “one time only” rule, no one would get hurt, and Allie definitely didn’t need to know about this.

  Even though I was cursed when it came to sex, and I’d been through hell with countless other women, I wasn’t worried about that
with Paige. She was mature and responsible, and I believed her when she said there was no way in hell she’d fall in love with me.

  Letting myself inside, I found Paige in the dining room. She closed her laptop when she spotted me.

  “Hi,” she offered, her voice quiet.

  I couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking. Was she looking forward to this? Was she just nervous? Or was she about to call off the whole thing? Act cool, for fuck’s sake . . .

  “Everything okay?” I asked, slipping off my shoes.

  Her gaze drifted up and down the front of me, and I realized this was the first time she was seeing me in my scrubs. The soft-washed navy pants were tied low on my waist, and her eyes took their fill.

  “Fine,” she said, still subdued. She drew her knees up to her chest, looking me over again, but I couldn’t read the expression in her eyes.

  “I’m going to go take a shower. We’ll talk when I get out.” And by talk, I meant fuck. A man could hope, at least.

  After setting my shopping bags down on the counter, I headed for the bathroom. I needed to get the sterile smell of the hospital off my body before I could function.

  Standing under the spray of water, I let the steam and heat surround me, working the tension from my muscles. I should have been tired after pulling a ten-hour shift at the hospital, most of it spent on my feet. Instead, I was keyed up, like a caged animal ready to pounce. I’d wanted Paige for way too long, and the thought of finally having her made me almost dizzy with anticipation. Though, medically speaking, the dizziness could have been from the lack of blood flow to my brain, since it was currently all pumping into my groin, engorging my cock.

  After toweling off, I made up the bed with the new sheets. I supposed it could look better with a fluffy comforter and matching pillows and all those things I was terrible at shopping for, but at least it would be comfortable. I wouldn’t be crammed onto that narrow futon with my feet hanging off the end any longer. I didn’t even want to think about how awful trying to fuck someone for the first time on the damn thing would have been. And not just anyone either, but Paige. I wanted to make tonight the best she’d ever had.