Just My Hockey Roommate’s Filthy Desires by Esther Pen novel Chapter 239

Laila’s POV

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“Jason,” I breathed as we broke the surprising but pleasant kiss for air. He didn’t go far Pressing his forehead to mine, his fingers dug into my hipbones, like he was trying to keep me close. He didn’t need to do that. I had no desire to go anywhere else. I had thought he’d be angry with me, but this didn’t feel like anger. That kiss had been filled with a deep–rooted passion. How long had that been pent up inside of him? He’d always been a good kisser, but this was something else.

Despite everything, despite our desperate need to talk, I really wanted to kiss him again.

This time, I chased his mouth with my own, pressing my lips to his. He hummed and his tongue slipped into my mouth where it tangled with my mine.

I grabbed onto his shoulders, clawing at his t–shirt. Suddenly, it felt like the past few years had never happened, and we were young again, pawing at each other in secret, expressing out lust in the darkened corners of my bedroom or his.

We hadn’t called it love back then, not out loud. But that was what I felt. Those dormant feelings still stirred within me, even now, even after all this time.

I would have thought they might have diminished, but as I had come to know Jason again under my false identity, those feelings had only developed, becoming more.

It frightened me. All of this frightened me. He did.

Love gave him too much power, and he had hurt me in the past, used that affection I held for him against me.

I wasn’t ready to go near the love word right now, not even in my mind. Instead, it was easier to cling onto the lust that was bursting inside of me.

He felt it too. “I want you, Laila. Tell me I can have you again.”

“Yes.” That one word didn’t feel like enough, so I said it again, with even more passion, so that there could be no misunderstanding. “Yes.”

“The bedroom,” he said between kisses. His lips never went far from my own.

“No time,” I said stubbornly.

“We’ll make time,” he said. “My first time with you again will be in a bed, going slowly. I didn’t wait all this time to have you back in my life just to take you in this kitchen.”

Pulling back just enough, I could see a spark of mischief in his eyes. “That will come later.”

I grumbled a little in frustration before he kissed me quiet.

“Fine,” I said and taking his hand, started to pull him toward my bedroom. When we reached it, he caught me by the hips again, stopping me just inside the doorway with him standing behind me.

Slowly, tenderly, he untied the belt of my robe and slid it down my shoulders. When my arms were free, he folded it in half and tossed it onto a nearby chair. I was only wearing a nightgown underneath, panties with no bra.

He returned his hands onto me at my thighs, at the very bottom of my nightgown. Then, catching his fingers on the hem, he pulled the nightgown up and up, tracing the sides of my body with his palms as he went. I raised my arms, and he lifted the nightgown up and over my head. When it was clear of me, he tossed it aside.

Exposed now as I was in only my panties, he had a clear view of the wounds on my back. They had been treated and bandaged, but were still achy, if not outright sore.

Jason traced the edge of the bandage but never where it hurt. His gentle touch seemed to chase away the pain, and I closed my

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eyes, shivering a little at the pleasure of his feather–light fingertips.

“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered.

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