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“All right.” I propped myself up on my elbow. “This isn’t over, though.”
She raised a brow, and the look she gave me was something new. In all the years I’d known her, she’d never once been coy or flirty, but that was what this was.
“We’ll see.” She shoved me again. “Now go.”
With a huffed laugh, I cupped her cheeks and pressed my lips to her forehead.
“Good night, Elise.”
“Good night, Weston.”
I climbed out of her bed, grabbed my clothes from the floor, and started for the door separating our rooms. When I took one last look back, she’d already rolled to her side, facing the opposite direction, the blankets pulled up to her shoulders.
I forced myself to walk through the door, even though all I wanted to do was stay and soak up every minute we had until this was over for good.
Chapter Seventeen
Elise
Themorningsunshonelike a spotlight on the unlocked door that separated my room from Weston’s. I stared at it from my bed, my fluffy covers pulled up around my ears, willing myself to get up and lock it.
But it would be fruitless. If Weston wanted inside my room again, he would undoubtedly find a way, lock or not.
Last night had probably been a one-off anyway.
It was good that it was. Smart. The best decision.
That was what I told myself until I flung myself out of bed to trudge to the shower and the dull ache between my legs made my breath hitch.
Oh, Weston. Why did he have to be so…good?
It had been the best sex of my life. I couldn’t remember a time I’d ever been so desired on a visceral level.
I brushed my teeth while the shower warmed up. The woman staring back at me in the mirror had been thoroughly fucked. My hair was in a rat’s nest on top of my head. There were bite marks and bruises all over my chest, one dangerously close to my neck. My lips were still a little swollen and dark pink.
Weston Aldrich had marked me, and he’d done it with purpose.
He’d wanted me to see in my reflection.
It had been his intent for me to feel him when I walked.
Guys like him, with giant dicks and egos to match, were probably flooded with testosterone. It was all they could do not to beat their chests at every chance they got. Giving me hickeys and bowing my legs during sex was the socially acceptable equivalent.
I was glad I’d gotten to experience it once.
It would be silly to even think about doing it again.
The rain shower beat down on my head, and water sprayed me from both sides. This shower was more luxurious than any I’d ever been in. I stood there for a long time, my head back, eyes closed, muscles loosening.
A sudden slice of cool air brought me back to reality.
The reality of Weston stepping into my shower, naked and hard, his gaze trained on me.
He stopped in front of me, framing my face with his hands. “Good morning.”
I straightened, sucking in my stomach. “Hi. You’re in my shower.”
“I am.”
