My Roommate's Bed Swap - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
You are reading My Roommate's Bed Swap, Chapter 3: Chapter 3. Read more chapters of My Roommate's Bed Swap.
The blackout curtains blocked every sliver of sunlight, plunging the bedroom into perfect darkness. But no matter how tightly I squeezed my eyes shut, I couldn't escape last night's memories—the breathless moans, the filthy whispers, the way the walls had practically vibrated with their passion.
My fingers itched with need. Before I could second-guess myself, I'd already opened the delivery app and tapped on the fastest available option.
Thirty minutes came and went. Then forty-five. At the hour mark, I was debating whether to request a refund—how exactly does one complain about late adult deliveries without dying of embarrassment?—when the door creaked open.
Zachary Evans stood in my doorway, delivery uniform stretched across his broad shoulders, dangling a black plastic bag from two fingers. "Evelyn. Your... package."
My phone clattered to the floor as I gaped at him, then at the delivery confirmation blinking on my screen. Blood rushed to my cheeks so fast I felt lightheaded. "You—how—?"
"Breakfast delivery next door," he said, that infuriating smirk playing on his lips. "System auto-routed me."
I clutched my robe tighter, shuffling forward on unsteady legs. "Th-thanks," I managed, reaching for the bag.
Zachary yanked it out of reach with one hand while the other snapped around my wrist. I crashed into his chest with an undignified yelp.
His gaze burned a slow path down my body, lingering where my robe gaped open. "Recognized the address when I picked this up," he murmured, voice rough. "Didn't expect this particular... menu item."
"I—I misclicked!"
He leaned in until his lips brushed my ear, his free hand sliding up to grip the back of my neck. "So Liam didn't satisfy you last night?" The words vibrated against my skin. "Three minutes—that's all he lasted, right? No way that's enough for you."
My knees nearly buckled. Against all reason, I nodded.
Up close, Zachary's T-shirt clung to every ridge of muscle. Where Liam was lean and elegant, Zachary was pure raw power—shoulders that blocked out the light, hands that could probably snap me in half without trying. The contrast sent liquid heat pooling low in my belly.
My robe strap slipped down my shoulder.
His eyes darkened.
The plastic bag hit the floor with a crinkle. Next thing I knew, the world tilted as he threw me over his shoulder like a sack of flour. "Won't be needing that," he growled. "That fire I started last night? I'll put it out myself."
My stomach swooped as he carried me toward the bed. A flicker of guilt surfaced—this was crossing a line, betraying Liam—but the moment my back hit the mattress, instinct took over. I squirmed, all shy hesitation compared to Jasmine's boldness last night. Men like Zachary ate that up—the contrast, the submission. No wonder he'd kept her screaming till dawn.
Two phones buzzed in unison. I twisted to see Liam's name flashing on my screen—right next to Jasmine's on Zachary's. "Stop," I gasped, pushing at his chest with my foot. "It's noon. They'll be back for—"
Zachary caught my ankle mid-kick, answering his phone first. "Jas. Too damn hot today. Get your own lunch."
Then mine: "Evie, factory's swamped. Don't wait up."
Our eyes locked. Zachary arched one brow and said into both phones, "Yeah. Busy here too."
He hurled our phones aside and flipped me onto my stomach in one brutal motion. I bit my lip, staring at the still-lit screens showing two active calls.
Zachary's teeth scraped my shoulder as he growled, "Scream. Let them hear you like I made her do last night."
My fingers itched with need. Before I could second-guess myself, I'd already opened the delivery app and tapped on the fastest available option.
Thirty minutes came and went. Then forty-five. At the hour mark, I was debating whether to request a refund—how exactly does one complain about late adult deliveries without dying of embarrassment?—when the door creaked open.
Zachary Evans stood in my doorway, delivery uniform stretched across his broad shoulders, dangling a black plastic bag from two fingers. "Evelyn. Your... package."
My phone clattered to the floor as I gaped at him, then at the delivery confirmation blinking on my screen. Blood rushed to my cheeks so fast I felt lightheaded. "You—how—?"
"Breakfast delivery next door," he said, that infuriating smirk playing on his lips. "System auto-routed me."
I clutched my robe tighter, shuffling forward on unsteady legs. "Th-thanks," I managed, reaching for the bag.
Zachary yanked it out of reach with one hand while the other snapped around my wrist. I crashed into his chest with an undignified yelp.
His gaze burned a slow path down my body, lingering where my robe gaped open. "Recognized the address when I picked this up," he murmured, voice rough. "Didn't expect this particular... menu item."
"I—I misclicked!"
He leaned in until his lips brushed my ear, his free hand sliding up to grip the back of my neck. "So Liam didn't satisfy you last night?" The words vibrated against my skin. "Three minutes—that's all he lasted, right? No way that's enough for you."
My knees nearly buckled. Against all reason, I nodded.
Up close, Zachary's T-shirt clung to every ridge of muscle. Where Liam was lean and elegant, Zachary was pure raw power—shoulders that blocked out the light, hands that could probably snap me in half without trying. The contrast sent liquid heat pooling low in my belly.
My robe strap slipped down my shoulder.
His eyes darkened.
The plastic bag hit the floor with a crinkle. Next thing I knew, the world tilted as he threw me over his shoulder like a sack of flour. "Won't be needing that," he growled. "That fire I started last night? I'll put it out myself."
My stomach swooped as he carried me toward the bed. A flicker of guilt surfaced—this was crossing a line, betraying Liam—but the moment my back hit the mattress, instinct took over. I squirmed, all shy hesitation compared to Jasmine's boldness last night. Men like Zachary ate that up—the contrast, the submission. No wonder he'd kept her screaming till dawn.
Two phones buzzed in unison. I twisted to see Liam's name flashing on my screen—right next to Jasmine's on Zachary's. "Stop," I gasped, pushing at his chest with my foot. "It's noon. They'll be back for—"
Zachary caught my ankle mid-kick, answering his phone first. "Jas. Too damn hot today. Get your own lunch."
Then mine: "Evie, factory's swamped. Don't wait up."
Our eyes locked. Zachary arched one brow and said into both phones, "Yeah. Busy here too."
He hurled our phones aside and flipped me onto my stomach in one brutal motion. I bit my lip, staring at the still-lit screens showing two active calls.
Zachary's teeth scraped my shoulder as he growled, "Scream. Let them hear you like I made her do last night."
End of My Roommate's Bed Swap Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to My Roommate's Bed Swap book page.