ON SATURDAY MORNING, as soon as my eyes open to the sun's blinding light from the nearby window, I yawn and snuggle closer under my comforter. But then I realize I'm naked, and then those muscles I used to shift under the comforter begin to bark in agony, all of the memories from last night ramming into my brain like an ice pick.

Fuck.

Everett. His tongue on my body. Branding me inside and out. All of the confessions he made...

How am I supposed to ever face him again without dying of embarrassment? The man explored every nook and cranny of my body. Everett. Holden. The man who I was determined hated me with every fiber of his being was inside me last night and gave me multiple orgasms. What in the actual hell?

Slowly climbing out of bed, I wince at the throbbing pain between my legs and glance at myself in the mirror above the dresser.

Oh, god. It's worse than I thought. My neck is covered in purple bruises from the hickeys, and the hickeys only continue down my chest, one on each breast. I turn around and gasp at the visible hand marks branded on my ass cheeks and more hickeys along the column of my spine. There is no way I can go to work like this. I'll have to call out for the first time since my grandmother's death.

What does this mean? Are Everett and I...friends now? Does this mean the hatred spewed between us for years has finally ended? I'm unsure how to hate someone who made me feel that good.

We both agreed this doesn't have to be serious, and I don't want it to be, but now that we're rooming together in his house, how am I supposed to act around him? He said that last night wouldn't be the last night we fucked, and I'm glad for that, but can I tackle him now whenever I see him? Can I make a move, or do I have to wait until we're in a screaming match again to lunge at him?

There are so many questions I have to ask, but none of them will be answered if I lock myself away in this room, no matter how much I want to.

After I call in sick to the hardware store, I shower and change into a sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts before I swallow the embarrassment and go downstairs. Surprised, I find a shirtless Everett standing before the stove, flipping bacon. Soft rock is playing softly from a nearby speaker, and as my eyes follow the muscles contracting in his back, they settle on his hips, swaying from side to side. The man is dancing.

Trying to hide my smile, I loudly screech the barstool back before I sit down on it, interrupting his little dance routine. He glances over his shoulder and smiles. He smiles!

"Breakfast?" He asks, waving the pan in my direction.

Wordlessly I nod my head and watch in fascination as he continues to sway those sexy hips of his. When he passes a fully-loaded plate in front of me, I mumble a thank you, the breath taken from my throat when he leans over and hooks a finger into the neckline of my hoodie, pulling it away to inspect the damage.

"Hmm," he hums thoughtfully. "Not as bad as I expected it to be."

"Are you kidding? I look like I've been beaten up! I had to call out of work today."

His lips twitch, threatening another smile. "What a shame."

"Oh my god," I deadpan. "You marked me on purpose, didn't you? You wanted me to call out today."

He shrugs and takes a bite of his eggs, his lips wrapping perfectly around the fork. "I plead the fifth."

"You're so annoying," I mutter.

"Is that how it's going to be then?" He asks. His tone isn't angry, just curious.
"You're going to go back to pretending I annoy you?"

"You do annoy me," I reply. "I'm not pretending."

My heart thunders in my chest, all the thoughts in my head turning into slush when he comes to stand beside me by the island, sets his breakfast plate next to mine, and spins my chair around to step in between my legs. He's towering over me this way, and all I can focus on is that damn eyebrow piercing. How it looked when it glinted in the darkness of that sorority room, and he glanced up at me between my thighs.

"Really?" He asks. "Because you didn't seem annoyed by me last night. I thought we agreed to continue this and that last night wouldn't be the last time."

"We did, but I..." Gulping loudly when he puts his hands on my waist, I try to shake my head to clear my thoughts. "I'm not used to you being nice, Everett. It's going to take some time to adjust." And I still don't know if he'll change his mind and return to treating me like dirt beneath his shoe.

"That tension between us isn't there anymore because we finally gave into it," he says, and with one swift movement, he pulls me into his arms, those large hands of his firmly grasping my thighs. "Don't you agree?"

"Yes, but..." Oh, god. A glint of silver hints from inside his mouth, and my mouth goes dry. "When did you get your tongue pierced?"

He smirks a cocky grin, and my pussy tightens in response. "I got it my freshman year of college but haven't worn the piercing in a while. Thought I'd put it in again."

"Fuck." I don't realize I've said it out loud until I visibly see his eyes darken and fill with lust. Attempting to clear my throat, it doesn't even work. It gets lodged in my esophagus, and I'm finding it hard to breathe being this close to him.

He arches a brow. "Curious? Do you want to see what it feels like?"

Fucking hell.

I knew Everett would be good at sex. Nobody can be that broody and miserable without having skill, but this? When he sticks that tongue out and brings my fingertips up to play with it? I can't seem to control myself. Whatever willpower I thought I had disintegrates, and I'm a pile of mush as I give into the lust and trace the pad of my thumb over the coolness of the metal, the slickness of his tongue...

A gasp emits from my mouth when he wraps his tongue around my finger and dances that piercing around it, his eyes locked on mine. "Everett," I release with a shaky breath.

"Hm?" Still sucking on my finger, he grinds his hips so that his hard cock rubs between my legs, and my eyes immediately roll to the back of my head. There's no saving me from this. Knowing we shouldn't be doing this, knowing we'll hurt Liam in the long run, somehow makes it hotter. It's wrong, and I love it. He's dirty and kinky and so, so sexy.

When he finally releases my finger, he says, "I wanted to wake you up by flicking this piercing against that little clit of yours, but I didn't know if you'd be okay with that."

A moan slips out at the thought of that metal against my most sensitive spot.

"So, is it okay, then? Can I crawl underneath your sheets in the morning and wake you up with my tongue?"

"Yes. God, yes," I pant.

He makes a beeline for the stairs, but he trips, and suddenly, we're on the same platform we were on last night, dry humping and unable to come up for air when his lips press against mine. His chest still has my fingertips embedded into them, tiny red slashes traveling down his abs. I can hardly think straight when that damn tongue piercing rolls in circles across my collarbone, and then he strips the sweatshirt off of me, analyzing all of the hickeys he created not even twenty-four hours ago.

"Are we ever going to make it to my bed?" He asks breathlessly.

I shake my head and drag him back down to my neck, allowing him to suck and kiss and flick that piercing down, down, down until he's at my nipple.

The second his tongue and that damn piercing collide with the sensitive bud, I buck my hips and let out a cry of bliss, awarded by his hand slipping beneath my waistband and gliding his middle finger right where I need him to be.

"Love how wet you get for me," he mutters harshly, and then he rams a finger into me, and I'm so tight and swollen from yesterday that I curse his name, collapsing onto my back on the platform.

I'm not even sure how my shorts came off. I'm too busy writhing beneath him to notice. But suddenly, he's between my thighs now, and whenever I see him like this... It awakens another side of me I didn't know existed. When he teases me, he makes me so infuriated. He's always teased me. When he brought other girls to the movies on our double dates in high school, when he'd twirl that damn eyebrow ring around and around...

"Oh my god, fuck me with your tongue, Everett. Now." I wrap my fingers in his curls and yank him onto my pussy, right to my throbbing clit, and the coolness of that metal, the friction it creates when he flicks his tongue... There's no way I'll survive him, not after this.

He's working me with his fingers and licking my pussy like a professional. I have no idea how many girls he's been with, but he's definitely got more experience than me.  And he's using that hand to hold my section of stomach while he engulfs himself in me, and he's moaning and grunting, and fuck. I'm going to come. Way too quickly.

"I love this fucking piercing," I moan. "Never take it out."

"It loves you too, Emery." He pulls back and slides that middle finger in and out, adding a second one. "I'm going to taste you on my tongue all day now. What a treat."

"Stop saying things like that," I pant. When I prop myself up on my elbows to stare at him, he's got a ghost of a smile on his wet lips. "Fuck, why do you have to be so hot?"

He smirks and flicks his tongue again on my clit. "Come for me, then. Show me just how hot I am. What a good job I can do."

It only takes three more pumps of his fingers before I'm a detonating bomb—an explosion of wetness covering his face. He smiles through it all, running his tongue along my slit to lap it all up, and while I'm still panting heavily, he stands up from the stairs, his cock as hard as ever, and wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand. "Good morning, Emery," he says with a wicked grin, and without another word, he returns to eating breakfast.

I have no idea what the hell just happened. When I woke up this morning, I had every intention of coming downstairs to talk about this. We need to discuss all of this sex. We need to figure out what it means. Sure, it's not serious; we've established that, but our hatred for each other can't all stem from sexual tension. There's something deeper there, and it's imperative we figure it out before this all goes to shit.

But today, Everett is smiling while eating his breakfast, and that sight alone has me forgetting about all the questions I had in the first place.

Author's Note:
!!!!
What did you guys think?!

Soooo this chapter stops the IMMEDIATE release of chapters when the goal is reached.

BUT...if you guys get this chapter to 200 votes and 300 comments I'll release TWICE this week. Monday (tomorrow) & Friday :)

Twitter: believeeexoxo
Instagram: deannafaison_
Tiktok:authordeannafaison