My gaze drifted from the TV to the hair band lying on my coffee table.

Oh, that’s how this all got started.

A text from Steph claiming that she’d left something “super important” at my apartment from the night of the party. A rubber band. If I only had known that was what she was looking for, I would’ve walked my ass to the Rite Aid and bought her a whole package of them.

“Want me to get you a beer from the fridge?” she asked.

She really was the perfect woman. “No. I’m good.”

I could feel her eyes on me as I lifted the glass of water and took a drink. Beer. Me. Steph. No one else in the apartment. Not a good combination. Or maybe a good one depending on how you looked at it.

Cuddling up against my side, her full breasts pressed against my arm.

I so needed to look at this as a good thing instead of wondering how a couch that I could stretch out on suddenly felt too small.

“So, are you turning over a new leaf or something?” she asked, gaze fixed on the TV as she ran the tips of her nails up and down my arm. I was watching a boxing rerun and I doubted she was that interested. “Are you no longer drinking?”

I laughed under my breath. “Nah. Just not feeling it tonight.”

“Oh.” Steph’s hand moved from my forearm to the center of my chest. “What are you feeling tonight?”

Loaded question, so I said nothing as a glove-covered fist slammed into a jaw. Steph perceived my silence the way she wanted, sliding her hand down the bare skin of my abs. Blood followed the tips of her fingers as they drifted below my navel, reaching the band on my shorts.

My body was into what was about to happen, thickening and swelling, straining up to meet her wandering fingers. And my body knew her fingers well, remembered exactly how skilled she was. But my head wasn’t even in the same ballpark as my cock.

Tipping my head back against the couch, I exhaled slowly. There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with what was happening. Her quick fingers skimmed over my limp hand, smoothing along my hip. The muscles jumped in response. So did something else.

I closed my eyes, inhaled deeply. My heart wasn’t pounding. I was thinking about the meeting I’d have to attend Friday night. And I was thinking about Saturday night and stars when her hand curled around my cock, gripping me through the nylon shorts. A pulse shot straight up my spine as she moved her hand up.

Pleasure swirled low in my gut, and I knew if I let her continue, I would enjoy it. Already, it felt damn good. Always did, but I wouldn’t return the act. Weeks ago, I would’ve, out of pure principal. Give. Take. But now I didn’t care enough to do it and that wasn’t right.