Sleeping for six hours last night, two hours longer than planned, really messed up my schedule. But, it's a sex day. I'm always in a better mood on a sex day.

I spent my morning in class, my afternoon in the library again with Ryan. Now, I'm back to studying and trying not to watch the clock tick down to 8:30.

I scour through my textbook for the millionth time. There's a case I've been trying to remember, one that aligns perfectly with what Ryan was getting at this afternoon, but I can't seem to figure it out. I'm not one to forget, but I have a lot on my mind right now. It's 7:22.

"You're boring," Levi grumbles, bringing me out of my head and back into my apartment.

"You are too," I say back without looking his way.

Levi sits next to me on my sofa, resting his head on the back while he switches through Netflix previews. He has made himself comfortable under the throw blanket Jeremy bought to cover the red wine stain he left on the sofa's beige fabric. His hair is half down, the top in his typical bun, the rest falling onto the top of his shoulders in a cascade of shiny, black waves. I wish I had his stupid, perfect hair. Sometimes, I wish I had his stupid life, too. But not on a sex day.

"When are you moving in?" I ask him.

"With you?" he asks.

"Yeah."

"Never."

"Why?"

"Because you're boring."

I lift my gaze to give him a look, but the TV has his attention. I let my breath leave slowly between my lips. "If I'm so bad, why do you come here all the time?"

"Convenience." He has practice a few times a month at the Olympic center in Midtown. It's not that long of a drive from our family's house in Brookville, so I know it's an excuse to see me. It's Hargrove nature to hide our fondness for each other beneath a layer of criticism.

Levi always gives me shit, but I love it. I spent more to get this sectional so he could put his legs up when he came to visit, just like I picked a unit on the ground floor nearest the accessible entrance. Jeremy may live at Chet's every weekday, but he's far from admitting they're for real for real. I just like it when my brother is here. I like it less on a sex day, but it passes the time.

It's 7:24.

"You're really going to sit there and study the whole time I'm here," he hassles me again. "You can't do that after I leave?"

I can't because I'll be doing Heath after he leaves. "I'm always busy, you know that," I avoid his question. "Summermester sucks, but it's less I have to do later. I just want to graduate and pass the Bar as soon as possible so Mom and Dad will get off my back."

Levi laughs. "Yeah, because they definitely won't care that you're unmarried and childless."

I close my eyes with a sigh. "Thanks for that."

"You're welcome."

My phone beeps from the coffee table. I don't need to look to know it's my reminder for my dick appointment. At least I know it's 7:30.

I shut my book and set it beside me. "You need to get to practice."

Levi's brow stitches with confusion. He looks at his smart watch and says, "It's exactly 7:30?" He looks at me and cocks an eyebrow. "You have a problem."

. . .

Heath is late because of course he is. My panties are already wet with anticipation. I thought about buzzing one out before he got here, but knew it wouldn't be as good. Out of all the worthless men I have been with, Heath is the only one who can beat a toy—and in the rare moment he can't, he's more than happy to collaborate with it. Remembering that makes me hornier.

I pick up my phone and scroll through my messages to find the last one he sent.

The second I press his number, there's a knock at the door. I drop my phone on the cushion and sprint to open it.

The door is barely open before I scold him. "You're late."

Heath gives me a look of contempt. "And the Browns haven't won a super bowl. Any other keen observations?"

He's such an asshole, but dammit, he's pretty. His gray eyes look darkened by his glower. His black work polo is untucked from his pants, leaving him halfway between professional and catalog model. It reminds me I could have had him naked by now.

"Would it kill you to be on time for shit?"

"Leave me alone." He takes a step inside. "Something came up. I'm a few minutes late. Get over it."

"Be here when you say you'll be here and I will."

"Teagan!" his scowl turns angry. He slams the door closed and pushes me back against it. His hand grips my chin, keeping my face in place while he looks me in the eyes. "Shut. The fuck. Up." He steps closer to press his body against mine. His expression is gentle, yet insistent. "Please."

His hand tilts up my chin and his mouth finds my neck. He sucks my sensitive skin while his hands lower to my chest. The surprise mixed with his fervor makes my body warm with desire. His fingers tickle under the sides of my shirt, then rip it up, exposing me. His warm lips circle my nipple, his hands tear at my fly. I moan before I can stop myself.

It all happens so fast. I can barely focus beneath the rush of heat washing over me. I'm hot, ready, and he seems to feel the same. It's as if he was as impatient as I had been feeling.

He rips my pants down to my thighs, then turns me around, pushing my chest against the door this time. I can't see him, but I feel him crouch down. A second later, his tongue traces my seam.

My body shivers with excitement. A tug on my hip gives him better access. His hum of pleasure vibrates against me when he finds my wet center. I lean my forehead against the door between my palms, giving in to his aggression. His tongue teases me, his hand massages my ass as he spreads me wider.

I whine when his mouth leaves me, but the sound of a condom opening keeps me high. Only a few seconds of pause leave me cold before he pushes his way inside. A gasp is my response.

He slides in easily and immediately gets to work. His hips pump against my ass while he strokes himself hard against my front wall. The position keeps him shallow enough to fuck up my g-spot like it's his job.

The moan that leaves me is louder than intended, but completely warranted.

"You want to keep talking shit?" he taunts me.

My eyes roll with the amount of pleasure he gives me. "You're . . . Ah! Fuck!"

"That's right." He pulls my hips back, crashing them against his with every hard thrust.

I want to cry it feels so good. The feeling settles in my head and makes me flutter around him. I smack my palm against the door instead of letting out the stream of curse words he makes me want to moan.

"I . . . fucking hate it when you're late." Over and over, his cock hits me in the perfect spot. "Fucking hell."

"Yeah, I know." He smacks a hand hard against my ass then moves to my shoulder. He grips it, making each impact harder. Fuck. "Do you hate me, too?"

"Yes," I whimper, unsure if it is an answer to his question or a response to the feeling he's drowning me in.

"Do you hate this?" A hand leaves my shoulder to slide between my legs. His fingers rub against my clit. I don't hate that at all.

My legs shiver. My pussy tightens around him. He knows I'm close. He knows exactly what he's doing to me. "No," I admit against my better judgment.

"That's what I thought."

The pleasure builds inside me. All I can sense is his head rubbing in just the right spot, his fingers circling, and my body tensing. Then it bursts. "Oh, God!"

The orgasm hits me hard. My body sings while I clench around him over and over. I shake like an earthquake while I try to stay on my feet. He pushes deep and stills. Only when my moans grow quiet do I hear his.

"Fuck," he whispers. His hips shudder while he eases himself in and out, making me clench with pleasure each time. The feeling seems to flow through us in the same way. I look back at him, seeing the intoxication in his trained gaze. When his eyes raise to mine, I feel the intensity of his gaze in my core.

With one last moan, he slips from me. His hands leave, taking my warmth and stability with them.

Out of breath, I turn to face him, steadying myself by leaning back against the door. He looks me up and down, his cocky smirk curling his lips when he sees what he has done to me.

The condom goes into the trash. We pull up our pants. I can't form words.

"Want to complain about me being late again?" he taunts me.

I leer at him, fighting the smile I feel on the inside. I swallow to rid the desire from my voice. "Just leave earlier than you think you should. It's not that hard."

With a shake of his head, he rolls his eyes. He steps closer and slowly zips his fly. His eyes trace over my body, that smirk still tugging at the corner of his mouth. I can't decide if he wants to laugh at me or take me again.

To my surprise, he leans in close, his lips hovering just a breath from mine. I stare at them while I wet my own.

I look into his eyes, waiting for his lips to meet mine. "I'll see you tomorrow," he whispers. Leaning away, he pulls at the door. I move so he can open it. "My place, right?"

I nod. He slips through the door, leaving me alone.

With a sigh, the rest of my strength leaves me. I slide down the door to sit on the floor. My head is still spinning, my body still buzzing. I can still feel him inside me.

What the hell got into him? 

_____

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