A Toast to the Good Times Read Online Free

this.
    Maybe I’ve had too much rum.
    Maybe I’ve just had too much everything.
    In any case, I want her in my bed, and damn the consequences. This is a thousand times worse of an idea than sleeping with Lori would have been, but I don’t care. I just don’t care.
    And then I’m kissing her, unexpectedly.
    She was chattering, her words weaving in and out of my ears, and then the room went quiet. And I realized it was because my lips were on hers.
    She moaned, just this one little, tiny moan, and I had her on her back on her bed, my body pressed hard on hers. Months of living together, and I’d never once thought of kissing her, and now I find myself wondering why.
    Why didn’t it occur to me? Why didn’t I do this before, and all the time? Why were we ever in the same room and doing anything other than this?
    I run my hands over the fuzzy flannel of her ridiculous pajamas, and, underneath the distracting clothes, I can feel every curve like she was perfectly fitted for me. I love the way she stretches up toward my hands. I love the way she wraps her arms around my neck.
    Our kiss started pretty low-key, but the way her body is bucking against mine drives me into crazier territory. I open my mouth, run my tongue over her lips, press my hand through all her long, thick hair and pull her closer, tighter.
    I expect her to be fairly calm and maybe shy, but she bites at my bottom lip, presses her hands up and down my back and coils closer to me.
    “Landry,” she sighs.
    I love the sound of my name , floating off of her lips . I push her top up, slowly; up her chest, up over her head and go a little dizzy seeing the bright red flash of her silky little bra, which she never took off when she put on her pajamas.
    “I like this.” I run my fingers over the lace edges, just tracing the swell of her tit, and she sucks her breath in hard. I can hear my voice going places I don’t want it to go with Mila. I’m going to do that thing where I say whatever I need to say to get her to take off her —
    But she’s wiggled out of her pants before I can say anything else. I’ve got an eyeful of her silly Darcy underwear. Who the hell is Darcy? Maybe some sci-fi guy? Why am I thinking about this when I have Mila smiling up at me like I’m the answer to all her problems?
    I push everything out of my head and enjoy the fact that she’s one clasp and a good downward push away from being completely naked. I stroke her from her ribs down to her hips with the back of my fingers, making slow, careful circles on her skin.
    Her lips part and she closes her eyes, tilting her head back. All that dark hair falls in long, gorgeous waves, and I’m so hard, it’s painful. Over Mila. The combination of the rum in my veins and her exposed body makes me hungry for everything I haven’t had in so long: smooth skin, sexy curves, a sweet, ready woman in my bed.
    I kiss her neck and rub my thumbs over her hips. She moans and I pull my shirt off. Her skin is hot against mine, the smell of her perfume, something with vanilla in it, fills my lungs and makes me want to lick her.
    So I do.
    Over her collarbone , along the curve of her ear, just on the edge of her bottom lip, before she opens her lips, and I kiss her hard. I run my fingers along her thighs, ready to get rid of these last few items of clothing and lose track of everything shitty going on in my life right now.
    And then she giggles.
    A deep, throaty giggle that comes from somewhere low in her chest and totally pulverizes this sexy, seductress version of Mila the rum is telling me exists.
    That giggle reminds me that this is my roommate. My slightly dorky roommate, who might look like every one of my hottest fantasies when she puts on a tight dress and then peels it back off, but who I respect.
    Care about.
    And most importantly, have to live with once this stupid night is over.
    I pull back.
    She grabs my arms and presses her eyebrows together. “I’m sorry. My thighs are super ticklish.