Blurb:
Sleeping with your roommate is a bad idea, right?
Megan Davidson is scrambling to find a new place after Abby, her roommate and best friend decides to move in with her boyfriend Lance. With just a week until classes start, the open spot left in Lance’s old house looks like her best option. She moves in with Matt and Chris, shameless flirts and notorious players.
Chris Schwartz first met Megan at their Fourth of July party over the summer, and he’s wanted her ever since. She’s now tantalizingly close, and he doesn’t want to keep his hands to himself, even if its the worst idea ever. Chris doesn’t do relationships, but once with Megan just isn’t enough.
With ground rules in place, it seems like everything’s working out fine. But will Chris’s history catch up to him and ruin everything?
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Excerpt:
With his head closer to her level she started shouting at him. "What the fuck is wrong with you? How dare you interrupt my dancing and then drag me out here!" She slapped him on the cheek next. That stung. "Don't you ever manhandle me like that again!"
He straightened up, rubbing his cheek. "You done?"
She tipped her head back to glare at him. Man, she was pissed. "I'm not sure. It depends on what stupid thing you do or say next. I might have to knee you in the balls."
He grunted in response and ran a hand over his face to cover the smile that was fighting to get out. If she thought he'd let her get close enough to get his balls, she'd be in for a surprise.
She stared at him, waiting. After a minute she threw her hands up in exasperation.
"Are you going to answer me? Or should I hit you some more until I feel better?"
"What was the question again?"
She took a step toward him, and he readied himself to block a strike to the groin. Instead, she got right up in his space and he could smell her shampoo. "I asked you what. The. Fuck. Your. Problem. Is." She emphasized each word with a smack to the chest.
He grabbed her wrist, tired of being used as her personal punching bag. "Enough. I took it when you hit me earlier because I deserved it, but that's enough." He crowded into her personal space even more, bringing his body flush against hers. Her head was tipped back, her eyes wide, her lips parted. He wanted to kiss her. He'd been wanting to kiss her for months now. And he wanted her more now than he'd ever wanted anyone before. "As for what my problem is, you're my problem."
At his words, the pissed off expression took over her face again. "What the hell does that mean? I haven't done anything to you!"
"Fuck, Megan. I can't stand watching you dance with all these other guys, seeing them put their hands all over you, groping you. And you seem to like it. Are you out fucking around while Matt and I are gone? Having parties at our house so you're not home alone?"
She gasped and her nostrils flared. He caught her hand before it made contact with his other cheek. She struggled against his grip, but he didn't let go.
"How dare you? You have no right to accuse me of anything! You're the biggest manwhore I know! You fuck any chick that you have your eye on and dump her the minute you're done! How dare you of all people say that to me?"
She was struggling against him, so he put her arms behind her back, wrapping his arms around her middle, keeping her pressed against him, trapping one of her legs with both of his so she couldn't make good on her threat to knee him in the balls. Her tone was laced with venom, and he almost recoiled from the bite. Except he was getting more pissed off too. He was a manwhore?
But Megan wasn't done. "And it's none of your fucking business if I'm fucking anyone. You're my roommate, and a shitty one at that. I don't need you scaring off guys who I just want to dance with."
"That asshole wanted more than just a dance."
"You think I'm too stupid to know that? Just because he wants more doesn't mean
I'm going to give it up."
"What do you mean I'm a shitty roommate?"
She laughed at him. "You barely say two words at a time to Matt or me. You're rude and standoffish."
She started struggling again. With the way he held her, her breasts were pushed against his chest and they rubbed back and forth with her movements. He could feel his body start to react. "Matt told me to back off and leave you alone, so I did." He spit out the words through gritted teeth.
Megan stopped struggling and looked up at him, eyes wide. "Why would he do that?"
He thrust his now hard cock against her belly. "You really don't know the answer to that question?"
Megan's eyes grew even wider, and he couldn't be sure in the dim light, but he thought her cheeks went a little pink. Who knew Megan could be made to blush? Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and it was all Chris could do not to groan.
"Why would …? What …? I don't understand."
In answer to her inarticulate questions, Chris pulled her closer and crushed his mouth to hers. She stiffened at first, but relaxed into him, opening for him when he began questing with his tongue. Her lips were soft, and he could taste the beer from the party. He wondered a little how much she'd had. She didn't seem drunk. When he pulled back, she was staring up at him, looking a little dazed. He released her, letting her step back. She brought a hand to her mouth, never taking her eyes from his. Her pupils were dilated, her eyes hooded. He felt smug that he'd managed to take her from pissed off to aroused with one kiss. Or maybe, like him, she'd already been aroused from their fighting. He reached for her free hand. "Let's get out of here."
Author Bio:
Jerica MacMillan is a lifelong reader and lover of romance. Nothing beats escaping into a book and watching people fall in love, overcome obstacles, and find their happily ever after. She was recently named a semi finalist in Harlequin’s So You Think You Can Write 2015 contest.
Jerica is living her happily ever after in North Idaho with her husband and two children. She spends her days building with blocks, admiring preschooler artwork, and writing while her baby naps in the sling. Join her Book Club at www.JericaMacMillan.com and get a free book!
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