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roommate.

The espresso finally poured into his mug, dark and bitter. He knew if he stayed in the kitchen any longer, he might lose control. He grabbed the mug, burning his hand on the hot ceramic. “Got it. Thanks,” he said, his voice rough. Without looking at her, he turned and left, muttering, “When did we get a fucking espresso machine?” The door slammed behind him.

Outside, the cool air hit his face. He leaned against the brick wall, breathing hard, and took a hot sip of coffee. The burn helped him focus. He realized with a heavy feeling that his brother’s girlfriend was no longer just an annoyance. She was a daily test of his self-control. Living here, seeing her every day, was going to be torture. He would have to restrain himself for his brother’s sake.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, thumb already moving before his brain caught up.

The text to Judy Shepherd was blunt, desperate, stripped of his usual arrogant flair:

Need to burn off a mood. Now. Your place or mine?

Judy’s reply pinged back in seconds:

My place. Twenty minutes. Don’t be late.

Matteo didn’t bother going back inside to change. He went straight to his Jeep, started the engine, and drove quickly across campus. The image of Sadie’s arched back stayed with him. He needed to get rid of it, to push it out of his mind any way he could.

He didn’t knock. He kicked Judy’s dorm door open, the lock clicking shut behind him with finality. The second it latched, he was on her.

Judy stood in the center of her small room, an elite rower’s body honed to lethal efficiency, auburn-streaked hair in a loose ponytail, wearing nothing but a thin tank and tiny shorts. She barely had time to smirk before Matteo’s massive frame crowded her against the door, one hand slamming flat beside her head, the other gripping her hip hard enough to bruise. His mouth crashed down on her neck, hot and heavy, teeth scraping the sensitive tendon there. The taste of her skin, salt and citrus body wash, flooded his tongue as he sucked a mark just below her ear. His hips rolled forward, grinding the thick, aching length of his cock against her stomach through his jeans. He was feral, frantic, every thrust a desperate attempt to drown out the vanilla-oat-milk ghost of his own kitchen.

Judy matched him for the first few blistering minutes, her hands fisting his tank top, nails raking down his back, her thigh hooking around his hip to pull him closer. She moaned low and throaty, the sound vibrating against his lips as he bit down harder. His free hand shoved under her tank, palming the firm swell of her breast, thumb circling the already-peaked nipple until she gasped. The room filled with the wet sounds of mouths and the harsh rasp of denim against skin.

But Judy was sharp. As an engineer, she noticed the change in his movements, the way he moved with force instead of his usual control. His eyes were open but distant, focused on something else.

She planted both palms against the broad wall of his chest and shoved. Hard.

Matteo stumbled back a step, chest heaving, sweat already beading at his temples. His cock strained obscenely against his jeans, the outline thick and obvious. Frustration flashed raw across his face.

“Stop,” she ordered, hazel eyes narrowing with razor-sharp focus. She crossed her arms under her breasts, completely unfazed by the towering predator glaring down at her. “You’re sloppy today, Matteo. Hitting the gas but not even in the driver’s seat. Who the fuck is in your head right now?”

He ran a shaky hand through his messy hair, sweat sticking it to his forehead. His usual confidence faded, replaced by exhaustion and self-loathing. He sat on the edge of her bed, elbows on his knees, head down. “My idiot brother,” he muttered, his voice rough. “He moved his pre-med pet into the house. Officially.”

Judy raised one perfect eyebrow, waiting.

Matteo’s jaw clenched so hard the muscle ticked. “I walked into my kitchen for coffee, and she was sitting there in a tight tank top. And my brain… short-circuited. She’s Santiago’s. She’s completely off-limits. But my body didn’t care.” He looked up, dark eyes burning with genuine misery. “I need you to physically beat this out of my system, Shepherd. Because if I look at my brother’s girl like that again, I’m going to have to move out of my own house.”

A lesser woman might have slapped him. Judy Shepherd just laughed, loud and genuine. The campus’s so-called elite rower, the untamable Beast, the hung stud, was reduced to a mess by a girl in a tank top reaching for a highlighter. She found it hilarious.

She stepped forward, mocking a lethal smile and gleaming. Her fingers hooked into the collar of his Henley, yanking him back to his feet with surprising strength. “So the big bad wolf is terrified of a little domestic temptation,” she purred, voice dripping with amusement. “Lucky for you, I specialize in blowing your mind.”

She shoved him backward onto the mattress. He landed with a heavy bounce, and she climbed over him, knees bracketing his hips, taking absolute control. “I’ll clear your head, Matteo,” she whispered, leaning down so her breath ghosted his lips. “But you’re going to owe me for doing your brother’s heavy lifting.”

The “grueling physical war” began again, but slower this time. Judy stripped his tank top off with deliberate tugs, her mouth following the path of revealed skin: teeth grazing the hard plane of his pecs, tongue tracing the ridges of his abs. Matteo’s hands fisted the sheets, then her hips, the tension in his jaw finally cracking as her fingers worked his belt open. She freed his cock, thick, heavy, flushed, dark, and leaking at the tip, and stroked him once, twice, slow and firm. He groaned, deep and broken, hips bucking involuntarily.

She sank down onto him in one smooth glide, wet heat enveloping every inch. The stretch, the tight clench of her around him, ripped a guttural sound from his throat. Judy rode him with precise, rolling movements, grinding deep, then rising until only the head remained inside, teasing. Sweat slicked their bodies. The wet slap of skin filled the room, mixed with her low moans and his ragged breathing. Every thrust drove the image of Sadie’s arched back further from his mind, replacing it with the slick drag of Judy’s pussy, the way her breasts bounced under her tank, the sharp sting of her nails on his chest.

But Matteo’s roughness faded. His hands softened on her waist, his thumbs gently stroking her skin. His breathing slowed, and his jaw relaxed. For once, he felt content. He didn’t have to hide anything from Judy. She saw all of him.

Judy felt the shift in every variable: the loosening of his shoulders, the way his dark eyes lost their self-loathing haze and focused on her. She eased her grip, movements turning from conquest to shared rhythm, slow rolls of her hips that dragged her clit against his pelvis, drawing out mutual pleasure instead of punishment. Their bodies moved in perfect sync, breaths mingling, foreheads pressed together.

In the heavy silence after, as they lay together, two separate thoughts ran through their minds, unspoken.

Matteo: This is the only place I don’t have to be the Beast. She knows me. If I admit I need her to stay sane, I lose the mask. I become prey.

Judy: He’s softening. But is it for me, or is it leftover from that pre-med ghost in his kitchen? If I let this feel real, I’m just heavy lifting for another woman.

The silence became uncomfortable. Judy’s mocking smile returned. She rolled off him and stretched. “You’re still here, Matteo. I thought you were in a hurry to get back to your domestic nightmare.”

Matteo sat up, an arrogant filter slamming down. He grabbed his clothes with the same legendary discipline he used on the water. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Shepherd. I’m just catching my breath. I’d hate to think I’m making this too easy for you.”

She laughed again, loud, genuine, but edged with relief. “Easy? You were sloppy when you walked in. If anything, I just did you a favor clearing that short-circuited brain of yours.”

“Consider the favor returned. Same time next week if you can handle the endurance training?” he quipped.

“If I’m bored. Don’t be late” she whipped back at him.

“I never am.” he answered.

He turned and left, the door clicking shut behind him. Both let out a breath, feeling the tension that had just passed.

—

Back at the Morales house, Matteo leaned against the granite island with a fresh cup of coffee, his usual smirk back in place. He pushed the tension from earlier out of his mind. His phone buzzed.

Makayla: “Wednesday night is a go. 8:00 sharp Hope you’re ready to finally make good on your promise. Don’t make me wait”

He looked at the screen, eyes narrowing with satisfaction. He hadn’t spoken to the TA in a week, but he remembered the message he’d written on that napkin after class. “They say good things come to those who wait,” he muttered with a smirk. He didn’t know his twin was being cornered at the boathouse.

The front door swung open. Matteo looked up to find Sadie exactly where he’d left her, still on the island, flashcards spread like a fortress.

He leaned against the doorframe, a lethal smirk in place. “Still trying to memorize the periodic table, Collins? At this rate, the ink’s gonna start absorbing into your skin by osmosis.”

Sadie pushed her glasses up her nose, completely oblivious to the war he’d waged across campus to forget her. “It’s organic chemistry, Matteo. Not the periodic table. And some of us actually have to study to stay at Stanford.”

He strode toward the counter, a massive frame moving with casual grace that hid everything. “Right. Being a domesticated pre-med student is a full-time job. I’m exhausted just watching you flip cards.” He reached for the abandoned mug, eyes drifting to the espresso machine. “Seriously, though, when did we even get a fucking espresso machine?”

“Santiago ordered it three weeks ago,” she said, flipping a card. “You were standing right there when the delivery guy dropped it off. You even signed for it.”

Matteo took a scalding sip, hiding the fact that his brain had short-circuited so violently earlier he’d erased three weeks of domestic history. “I probably thought it was another one of your weird body parts littering the study. Anyway, try not to set the kitchen on fire with your projects. I’ve already helped enough women for one morning.”

Santiago trudged in minutes later, hair damp from the erg test, sweatshirt half-pulled over his head. He stopped when he saw Matteo smirking at his phone.

“You might want to check your calendar, Mr. Big Bad Wolf,” Santiago said dryly. “I just got cornered by a 4 '11” whirlwind at the boathouse who thinks we have a date tonight.”

Matteo barked a loud, genuine laugh. “Makayla? Yeah, she just texted. I slipped her my number a week ago. Looks like my flirty napkin finally paid off.”

“She wouldn’t let me finish a sentence, Matteo. She’s convinced I’m you. She even mentioned something about your ‘gifted endowment’ and ‘stamina.’ It was very uncomfortable.”

Sadie’s head snapped off her flashcards, her blue eyes flashing with sudden interest. “Wait, someone was flirting with my boyfriend at the boathouse? And she thought he was the untamable alpha over there?”

Matteo winked at her, lethal smirk sharpening. “Can you blame her, Collins? We’re identical. But since Santiago clearly can’t handle a high-intensity workout, I’ll take over at 8:00. I’ve got some heavy lifting to do anyway.”

He left the counter and went upstairs, leaving behind a sense of unspoken tension.

Sadie watched Santiago, her eyes narrowing with sharp, analytical focus. “So… does that happen a lot? Getting confused for the campus ladies man?”

Santiago felt the primal spike of guilt-adrenaline hit him square in the chest. His legendary discipline warred with the need for honesty. “More than I’d like. There were… two times. This girl, Barbie. She had her way with me before I could even get a word in edgewise. She was 100% certain I was Matteo.”

Sadie’s porcelain shoulders stiffened. Her hazel eyes flashed with territorial heat, the deep Irish jealous nerve igniting like dry tinder. “Two times? And you’re just mentioning this now?”

“I tried to tell her, Sadie! Like today with Makayla, some of these girls don’t stop to catch their breath. They see the face and they just… lunge.”

Sadie didn’t raise her voice. She pushed her glasses up and looked back at her flashcards, though she wasn’t really reading. Inside, she was already planning her next move, calm and focused.

If other girls were after her boyfriend because of Matteo’s reputation, Sadie was going to remind Santiago why he was with her. She arched her back on purpose as she reached across the island for a pen, her tank top stretching tight. Her sweatpants slipped lower, showing the curve of her lower back. This time, her pose was intentional, confident, and meant just for him.

Santiago’s breath caught. His eyes darkened, fixed on the deliberate arch of her body, the way the morning light gilded every Santiago’s breath caught as he watched her. His eyes focused on the way she moved, the morning light highlighting her. The kitchen felt smaller and warmer, filled with the promise of what she intended.

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