She jammed her finger into the enter key, and the video viewer popped up.
The name of the sheets she’d been receiving by the case popped up at the beginning of the clip in a classic, stylized font. Signature Hemmed Sheet Set. She pressed play.
In the video, the guy rubbed the sheet against his cheek and sighed.
“It’s one hundred percent organic cotton. It’s simple, but I wish you could feel this. It’s so soft, I swear, if a cloud could be turned into a sheet, this is what it would be.”
Confusion rocketed through my head, my brain muddled by a metric ton of confusion. “What the hell is this?”
She ducked her head but peered back up at me with blazing red cheeks. “My job.”
I stared at the screen, waiting for the sweaty, nude part of the video. The part I’d been envisioning in my head, only it wasn’t some asshole with her, it was me.
The guy on the screen lifted the sheet before it flowed down onto the bed, and he smoothed it out, pulling the scrunched edge around the corner of the mattress.
“You invited a guy into your apartment to make your bed?” A sound jumped out of my throat, mind still whirring. In some crazy corner of the internet were guys jerking off to Sabrina and some guy making beds? Did they make the beds, then have sex in them? I cocked my head to the side.
“I’m a product photographer.” Her lips twisted at the chagrined confession. “I was looking for a different angle to win the job, so I thought”—she shrugged—“having guys be my models would make me stand out, and it did.”
My gaze shot back to the screen.
The guy on screen smiled for the camera as he made her fucking bed. Hospital corners and all. There were flawless transitions between the different cuts. Him smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric. And the only fluffing going on was to the pillows after he slipped on the cases before he fell backward onto the bed with a shot from above.
“Are you serious with this?” I pointed to the laptop like it had just made an offending remark about my mother.
She shrugged, for once not having a snappy comeback. “Not sure what else to tell you. I’m a product photographer.”
“This is your job?” The questions mounted, but one point rang louder in my ears until it became undeniable.
“I landed this project a week or so before I moved in. I owe them the finals at the end of this week, and then I find out if I won the job, and if I do then I get paid, which means I can finally move out. I had one more shot I absolutely needed, so I brought in Ryder for some last-minute help.” She closed her laptop.
I dropped onto the partially made bed, shock still reverberating through my body. “You let me believe you were in here making porn.” The adrenaline injection was no longer swinging me from anger to jealousy. Now it had plopped me squarely at the corner of confused shock.
A nervous chuckle. “I know.”
I looked up at her, unable to keep the baffled tone from my voice. “Why?”
Her lips pulled to one side like they’d been tugged by an invisible string and she shrugged. “It was better than the alternative. I’ve never had someone think I could be a porn star. That part was fun. There was also the bonus of it making you insanely uncomfortable, so I just didn’t correct your assumptions.”
“Sabrina…” It came out in a warning, chiding tone.
“Hunter…” She matched my tone.
“Do you know what it’s been doing to me thinking of you here with other guys?” The words tumbled out. I clenched my teeth together and gripped the edge of the bed. The one where she hadn’t been entertaining multiple guys every week, but simply making the bed to showcase the high-thread-count sheets.
“Offended you? Disgusted you?” She shifted forward, her hands on her hips, looming over me with her knees so close they nearly brushed mine. The brush felt like it scorched my skin, searing it with a desire I’d kept contained until this moment.
Snapping the gap closed between us, I shot up and slid my arms under hers.
Her eyes widened and she backed up, but I followed until the wall was at her back and I caged her between my arms. “Made me more jealous than I’ve ever been in my entire life.”
She gasped, eyes wide and lips parted. Her gaze skittered over mine, surprise scrawled all over her face. “What?”
I brought my lips crashing down on hers and held on to the sides of her face, fingers tangled in her hair. I breathed all my frustration into her, gulping down her taste and inhaling every bit of her.
Her muscles stiffened before she gave in to the onslaught I couldn’t contain with a moan. Her fingers fisted my shirt, tugging me closer. She tasted better than I could’ve imagined. Her body rocked against mine.
I’d wanted this since the second she stepped through the door. Everything I’d done was to stop myself, but right now I couldn’t remember why. Not when she felt this good against me. Not when she responded to me like this.
My blood pounded in my veins, rushing toward my cock. My erection strained after seconds of pressing against the softness of her stomach. I flattened her against the wall, trying to get closer.
A throat clearing behind us was the only reason either of us came up for air. “I forgot my backpack. Don’t mind me.” Ryder shot past us, yanked his bag off the floor, and raced out of the room. The front door slammed shut, signaling his departure and snapping me back to reality, and to all the reasons I knew this wasn’t a good idea. The temporary living situation, the mountain of work I was drowning under, and the fact that I hadn’t been able to sleep through the night once since she arrived—not that I’d been doing any better before that.
Sabrina and I both stared at the empty doorway, then looked back at one another.
I cleared my throat, taking a step away when every part of me wanted to pin her against the wall—this time without any clothes between us—but I was also acutely aware of how I’d pounced on her. “Sorry.” My head dropped, fighting against every instinct telling me to continue what we’d started.
“For which part?” She pushed off the wall with her arms crossed, teasing me with her glorious rack mouthwateringly close.
“All of it.”
“All of it? How about ruining my video and scaring off my helper for the day? Snooping in my room, and stealing snacks?”
My head jerked back.
“Stealing your snacks?”
“Don’t deny it. I saw the wrappers in your bathroom trash can.” She marched forward.
“What were you doing in my bathroom?”
The fire in her eyes was doused.
“Why were you in my bathroom? You accuse me of snooping when you’ve been doing the same.” She could’ve found me sleeping in the tub. What kind of explanation would I offer up? This reinforced why I needed to stop things before they started. Would I fall asleep with her in my arms and then slink off to the bath to get a good night’s rest that didn’t end with me flailing in my sleep and drenched in sweat.
“I haven’t been snooping.” Her lips pinched together. “I was taking a bath. You’ve got the only bath in the apartment, so I use it. Sometimes.”
Another visual assaulted me, doing nothing to quell the insistent erection trying to make itself known. Sabrina wet and naked in my bathtub, soaping herself up. Resting her head against the high edge with her breasts peeking from under the waterline. Damn it.