The heat was oppressive, and I was having trouble breathing, or maybe it was the tight hold from the hot guy, either way, I had to get out of there. Without any explanation I bolted from his arms and rushed outside onto the sidewalk. The air was crisp, and I could clear my head before Julius walked out the door looking for me. I leaned against the brick of the building and watched as he walked slowly in my direction. His hands were in his pockets and he looked terribly guilty for some reason. I wanted to find the right words to make everything okay, but this was so confusing and complicated.
“Are you okay?” he finally asked.
I smiled and nodded. “I couldn’t breathe, it was so hot in there,” I said.
His tense shoulders appeared to relax a little and he took another step closer to me. I wasn’t trapped, I could easily move from one side or the other to escape him, but I had no desire to move, so I was essentially trapped. Weird electricity filled the air and when he leaned in toward my mouth I was afraid of the shock I was going to receive. At the last moment, I used my newly found strength and turned my head to the side, so he couldn’t kiss me.
“Julius, you’re still married,” I said sadly. “I don’t think I should kiss you while you’re married.”
“I’m not still married,” he said emphatically. “I’m divorcing Jen and I live with Travis.”
That little tidbit of information had me quite stunned. I had no idea Mr. Stovall was normal enough to have a roommate, especially one as gorgeous as Julius. I couldn’t think of a famous serial killer who had a roommate, so I felt a bit safer now. “I know, but you’re not divorced yet,” I pointed out.
“Okay,” he said, and reached in his pocket. “Give me your number so I can call you the second I sign the papers.” He pulled a small pen from his jeans; it was very thin and very short. It wasn’t a normal straight pen; it angled back and forth forming a squiggle shape. He held it up with embarrassment and said, “Sorry.”
Without any forethought I lunged at him, throwing my arms around his neck and jumping up to wrap my legs around his waist. My lips attached firmly to his and my tongue pressed into his mouth. He kissed me back with just as much passion as I was unintentionally using, smashing me into the brick wall. This was not like me; I was generally a very hard-to-get kind of girl. I had experience with too many guys trying to change me into something more square-like, so I typically moved slowly in a relationship. This was made even more complicated by his connection with Jennifer ‘re-doable’ Staple. I tried to think really hard as he held me tightly in his arms to see if I was doing this out of revenge. Thinking at a moment like this was next to impossible, because all I could concentrate on was the squiggle pen. Every time I pictured it in my mind, my desire for him grew immensely.
I finally gave up trying to be practical and logical. This was Julius freaking Carmichael in my arms. He had a squiggle shaped pen and I would drag him to my bed because of it.
It was amazing that with such a short time on this planet I had managed to rack up an impressive number of regrets. I regretted introducing Jennifer to Jack, I regretted getting a perm my freshman year of high school, I regretted the tequila I took from my dad’s liquor cabinet, and I was now going to regret bringing a ‘not yet divorced man’ home with me. I mentally made my case for the fight over my eternal soul. I would tell God how strong I was until Julius pulled out the squiggle pen; an omnipotent maker would surely know I had a substantial weakness for squiggles.
After retrieving my hoodie, I kept checking my rearview mirror as he followed behind me in his own car all the way to my place. My hand was digging through my purse for a tic-tac or a breath mint. I was desperate for something and had to settle on mint flavored lip balm. I stuck my finger in the small tub and then wiped it across my tongue. Oh man, the thick goo stuck to the roof of my mouth and then to the back of my teeth. I was ready to gag as I tried to get it to melt or at least dilute a little bit. When I pulled into my driveway I pulled the keys from the ignition and scraped them quickly over my tongue in an attempt to get the mess the heck out of my mouth.
Julius walked up to my window to see what was keeping me. I turned my head away from him and used my fingernails to scrape my tongue until it was almost raw. He knocked on the window, so I turned and smiled up at him with my waxy teeth. He opened my door and I got out of the car as I tried to get the gel off the keys, so I could open the door. The stuff seemed to be multiplying, like semen, as it covered my hands, mouth, and keys.
“We just had our locks lubricated,” I lied, making Julius snicker. Yeah, even the most mature man would find the word lubricated erotic. It would have been better to fess up to the mint lip balm, now he was going to think of my mouth as a lubricated lock. When I managed the key and opened the front door to the dark house we both stepped inside. He pushed me to the wall, kissing me fervently. Maybe he liked mint lip balm, because he never said a word about my slimy mouth.
His body was pressing into mine, and aside from the squiggle pen, he had something else I had a growing weakness for. I bent my knee to get enough traction from the wall to push him back, so I could lead him to my bedroom. My apologetic wardrobe was still lying on the floor awaiting punishment and we simply walked over it on our way to the bed. We tumbled together onto the blanket and he rolled onto me, lifting my shirt over my head and expertly unclasping my bra. Hum…didn’t know Jennifer ever wore one, maybe he had prior expertise? We were now skin-to-skin and our kissing kicked up a notch, which I never thought possible. I wondered briefly what happened to his shirt and exactly when it left his body, but the feeling of his hot flesh on mine sent my mind into hyper drive.
“Say it now, if you’re going to say it?” he gasped and began removing my jeans.
I rose onto my elbows to look at him. “Say what?” I asked, wondering if he expected a code word or something. I wasn’t naïve by any stretch of the imagination, but nobody had asked me to say a magic word before. Was I supposed to say please? I was more than willing to beg. Girls don’t like to admit they’ll beg, but believe me, if you ask at the right moment, we’ll beg.
“No,” he explained. “If you’re going to say no, say it now,” he instructed as his hands kept moving.
Aw, he was so sweet to offer me a way out. I wasn’t bright enough to use the escape route, but it was nice of him to offer. “Are you kidding?” I panted, “You have a squiggle pen.”
He stopped moving, why in the world would he decide to stop moving? I moved for him, reaching down to unbutton his jeans and pushing them down his hips. His back-up battery kicked in and he came to life again and started maneuvering his jeans off his legs as I did the same. They joined the naughty clothes on the floor but would receive gratitude not punishment when washed on the gentle cycle.
I wasn’t sure what was going on between us, it wasn’t love, it wasn’t pent up need cause by purity rings, but it was something. We did not treat each other hesitantly; we were forming our own definition of intimacy that wasn’t usual or fit within a box. We were squiggles, and the thought sent me crashing over the edge as I screamed out with total abandon. One of his hands reached over my head and pounded on the wall as his mouth let out a string of expletives his father would surely banish him back to the basement if he heard. Julius was a freaking love machine and I began laughing at the amazing performance he just gave.
His body calmed, and he eventually came back to reality. He looked at me with wide, worried eyes and said, “Oh God, please say you’re on the pill.”
I giggled and whispered, “I don’t think God is, but I am.”
He finally raised his head and looked around the room he just copulated in. “You’re a slob,” he pointed out. I couldn’t blame him for his ignorance; most men didn’t understand the relationship between a woman and her clothing.
“No, I’m not,” I said to defend myself. “I just haven’t punished my clothes yet, they are awaiting sentencing.”
He looked at my floor in confusion and let his body fall
back onto the pillow, obviously not needing an explanation or wanting one. I moved over the top of him to let my hair fall onto his chest and sighed, “Just like I imagined.” His arms tightened around me and I looked up with just my eyes and smiled at him. He took a jagged breath, sucking the oxygen through his teeth and I knew he was picturing the same things I had when he looked up at me in the same manner.
I sat back onto my knees, his legs straddling me and looked at his body. I let my finger run up the soft line of hair to his bellybutton and noticed how long his torso was. He moved his arms to bring them folded behind his head and watched me look at him. His hip bones were protruding from his prone position and I leaned over to kiss each one. His eyes closed, and a shiver ran down his body.
I moved slowly back even with his mouth and ran my tongue softly over his lips. “You taste so good,” I whispered, and his hands automatically moved from behind his head and into my cascading hair to keep it away from my face. I kissed my way to his neck and sucked gently on his skin until he moaned causing me to suck a lot harder. His body was reacting and ready for round two at an impressively fast rate. I placed my hands on his chest pinning him to the bed as I took control.
He was incredibly beautiful as his muscles strained and his abs tightened with each thrust of his body. But man, something was up with his language during the throws of ecstasy? He cussed like a drunken sailor in a way I had never heard before as he beat his hand against the wall again. I didn’t make a big deal out of it, since I was in my own post-ecstasy fog and didn’t want to ruin it. Instead, I settled in his arms knowing I would snooze the entire night with a smile on my face.
I was almost asleep when he whispered in the darkness, “I better go.”
My arms tightened, realizing the next day was Saturday and we wouldn’t have to go from my bed to our cubicles with guilty faces. “You can stay,” I offered. He didn’t relax, and I forced my eyes open to see what was wrong. I had been counting the moments until morning sex, the best sex of the day, and he wanted to leave. I noticed he wouldn’t meet my gaze and it made me concerned. He said he found Jennifer in church and maybe he was planning on running off to repent. “You want to leave?” I asked, trying not to use a fatal attraction boil your rabbit tone.
“Tobi,” he said softly, as he held my face in his hands, “Jen is trying to make things as difficult as possible; I don’t want to give her a reason to prolong things.”
“Ah, man,” I groaned, and pulled away from him. “You used the J word out loud in my bed, now I have to burn my sheets.”
“I’m sorry,” he said with a pained voice, and then he sat up to find his lucky clothes among the penitent.
I grabbed a less offensive shirt off the floor and pulled it on after returning my panties to their rightful place on my body. He stood to pull up his boxers and I leaned over to kiss his hairy leg before standing myself. He put on his jeans and then pulled me to his chest. “You are very odd,” he said with a grin, making me smile, and then held up the tiny pen as a reward. I took it eagerly before kissing him as only a squiggle would, without any form or definition. He found his shirt and shoes and took my hand, so I could walk him to his car. I didn’t worry about my attire; I was now rockin’ the tiny t-shirt and panties.
He leaned against his vehicle and held both palms to my butt as he smiled wildly. “I find you adorable,” he said.
“You’re just saying that because I got your tickets excused,” I accused him, and he kissed the tip of my nose.
“No, I’m saying it because you showed me your panties at work,” he teased.
I was happy for the darkness which was hiding my blush. I realized it was ridiculous to be embarrassed, especially after what just transpired between us. I boldly said, “I don’t mind, I just had sex with you for a pen.” He laughed a bit too loudly for the late hour, but the sound was musical and dreamy.
He took the pen from my hand, turned my wrist up and wrote his phone number on my arm. I couldn’t read what else he wrote in the darkness, but I took back the pen and did the same with his arm. I wrote my number first and then: You’re welcome in my bed anytime. You have great toes. I gave him one last kiss and stood in my driveway as I watched him head down the street.
I went back inside the house and walked into my room to dispose of the sheets which had to hear the J word. I glanced down at my arm and read: You’re going to have my children someday. Julius Carmichael wrote that on my arm, the arm I now had to keep free from sweat, water, rain, or drool. I wanted to rush to a tattoo shop and have it immortalized forever in permanent ink. I did the only thing I could think of to prove I wasn’t dreaming, I grabbed my phone and took a picture.
I remade my bed and put the pen under my square pillow to fall asleep and dream about the amazing man who just left. I slept hard, my dad called it lumberjack sleep, but it was actually totally relaxed from orgasm sleep.
A loud noise woke me to the sun sneaking through the curtains. I looked out to see Amos climbing up a ladder onto the roof. This could not be good. I threw on a robe and headed into the kitchen to find Claire. “What’s up with King Kong?” I asked.
“The remote isn’t working, so he’s checking the dish,” she said with a shake of her head. I retrieved the battery and placed it back in the device to announce the remote was indeed working. “Oh good, he fixed it,” she said, and ran outside to tell him. I wondered if our ladder would hold his massively muscled body, and then smiled at the possibility it wouldn’t.
I put two pop tarts in the toaster and poured a glass of diet Pepsi to counter the calories, then took my breakfast back to my room. I pulled my laptop onto the bed and chewed the fruity goodness of my meal as I waited for it to boot up. I pulled up my Facebook page and had a friend request from none other than Jennifer Staple Carmichael, soon to be just Staple. I guess I didn’t have to worry about her sleeping with my boyfriend, since he was actually her husband. I would love to see the expression on her face when she realized who I was dating. I planned to put a big picture of me and Julius together on Facebook and wait for her to comment on my wall, to which I would reply, suck it, loser.
I accepted her request and opened her page to see if she had aged well or possibly gained enormous amounts of weight. What I saw left me speechless and gasping for air. She had posted a large picture of me and Julius together. It was my job and she stole it. We were standing in my driveway with messy hair and my body plastered onto his. He was holding onto my butt with both hands as we kissed in only my panties and tee. It was taken last night, she was following him and taking pictures, and they were posted all over her Facebook page.
I grabbed my phone and held up my arm to look at the number. I wanted to warn Julius, or at least commiserate in our mutual disgust together. A voice I didn’t recognize answered, it was deep and official sounding, like a butler named Giles or Malcolm.
“May I speak with Julius?” I asked.
“Is this Tobbi?” the voice asked me.
“Only one B,” I corrected.
“Excuse me?” the voice said with quite an attitude.
“You said Tobbi, like it had two B’s. My name is Tobi, one B, so say it faster,” I explained.
The line was totally silent for several seconds and then the deep voice continued, “Fine, Tobi. Please refrain from calling this number, Mr. Carmichael will not be taking your calls.”
I felt like a bucket of ice had been dumped over my head. He told me I would have his babies, and he gave me a squiggle pen, but now it was over, like the lines of a square connecting to box me out. The worst part was he didn’t bother giving me the news himself; he let some self-important git break up with me for him.
I threw my phone against the wall as I paced like a wild tiger across the floor. I couldn’t believe I was going to beg my mother to get all his tickets removed. I had never used my mother’s role as mayor for anything, but for him I was willing to do it. Now I had other plans. If my mother had the power to erase his tickets, surely, s
he had the power to have a warrant put out for his arrest. Mr. Julius Carmichael would learn not to mess with Erica Ann Wilson. He was about to be schooled in the real meaning of the word ‘ew.’
I grabbed my phone off the floor to make the call, but I had broken it in my fit of anger. I jumped in the shower, since I would be making a trip to replace my phone and scrubbed my arm until it was almost raw. If I couldn’t have his babies I was not wearing his declaration in ink.
I made my way to the phone store and stood with my face pressed against the glass only to realize it wasn’t open due to remodeling. I felt like I was stranded on a deserted island with no way to contact the real world. What did people do before cell phones? No wonder life expectancies were so low in the past centuries. With no other course of action, I stopped at the grocery store and purchased the largest bag of chocolate chips I could find. I was smart enough to know it wasn’t wise to drown your sorrows in liquor, but nobody was ever harmed by massive amounts of chocolate.
For the remainder of the weekend time passed like a squiggle, it moved quickly and then slowed dreadfully, constantly changing with my mood. I was anxious for Monday morning, so I could confront the heir to the Carmichael Corporation, the hemorrhoid on the butt of the company I gave my life. Well, not actually my life, but my sanity. I slaved inside that cubicle for almost a year now. Maybe not slaved, but I showed up!
By Monday, my floor was covered in more clothes awaiting punishment as I struggled to find the perfect thing to wear. It had to say I was good in bed and he would never experience it again. It also had to say I didn’t need him and some ugly, frigid woman could have his babies. The final requirement was, it had to say if everything was a misunderstanding I would forgive him and do him in the parking lot at lunch.
I was a walking example why you should never have sex with a coworker, especially one who married the whore from your small town, and worked in the cubicle next to you, and owned the company you worked for.
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