by T Gephart
“I’m gonna stay tonight, okay? Just try and remember not to freak out in the morning. I haven’t had a chance to hide the knives.” I felt his hand brush against my hair, my eyes refusing to open.
“Yeah, I’ll remember.” I felt my lips curl into a smile. “Don’t touch my boobs while I sleep,” by some miracle I managed to say before I finally drifted.
If any further conversation took place, I didn’t remember. My breathing evened out as a calm washed through me. And despite my body not being tucked up in the perfectly good bed not very far away, I was more comfortable than I’d been all week.
Sleep.
I felt like I could sleep for a hundred years.
And right now, that’s what I intended to do.
Kenzie had been a lightweight. She’d punk’d out on the Pacino marathon within the first half hour. Completely missed my amazing impersonations—and my stellar recollection of the script—but from what I could make out, she really needed to sleep.
Instead of leaving like I probably should, I decided to stick around. I may or may not have completely taken advantage of the fact she wasn’t exactly coherent when I asked. But there had been an exchange and she had agreed so it counted.
The couch got old by the time the credits rolled around and as much as I wanted to hang around and watch the Godfather Trilogy, I figured we’d move our snuggle-party-of-two to the bed. She didn’t even wake up when I’d carried her into her room. It felt nice to have her body tucked up tight against me until I’d laid her on the mattress. First time I took a girl there without the intention of fucking. Wonders would never cease.
Not going to lie, but seeing her splayed out in front of me wearing a top that did little to hide those gorgeous fucking tits didn’t help the situation. My dick stirred in my jeans even though both of us knew nothing was going to happen. And unlike the chick I’d felt at the bar, Kenzie’s body hadn’t come with a price tag. Every inch of her the same God-given perfection she’d been born with. But true to my word, I didn’t touch. Looking couldn’t be helped unfortunately; a man can only be strong to a point.
She rolled over onto her side as I got undressed, tossing my clothes on the floor as I pulled them off— my boxers the only thing I left on.
Her sheets felt nice as I slipped in between them, obviously not the same Target special I had lying on my bed. Clearly that bullshit about thread count wasn’t a scam after all. Who knew?
Realistically, I didn’t give a rat’s ass about the sheets. It was the fact I was in them that was important. And while usually I would have made sure I had a comfortable perimeter separating me from my fellow sleepee, I didn’t even flinch at sidling up close to her. Not quite spooning. More like a ghosting, my body in a similar pose along side her with a couple of inches between us. Close enough that if my dick suddenly decided to take an interest, I’d be tapping her on the back. And I don’t mean with my hands.
Rather than risk waking the Beast and having to deal with the inconvenience of having to jerk off—sacrilegious to even think such things, I know—I shut my eyes and fell asleep.
The morning unfortunately was a completely different story.
“Joey.” Two hands reached around my shoulders and shook me and I had no interest in anything that didn’t get me ten more minutes of sleep. Where was the fucking fire? There was nowhere I needed to be.
“Joey.”
Again with my name and the shaking. I don’t know why assholes feel the need to wake up people who are obviously more interested in being asleep. You want to be all up-and-at-them like a fucking Pop Tart that’s your deal, don’t be discriminating against those who’d prefer to slumber.
“Hey, asshole.”
Okay, so that got my attention.
“Huh?” I cracked open a lid and saw a fucking angel staring at me.
Of course I wasn’t a moron, remembering I’d spent the night with Kenzie and the heavenly creature was actually the hot guitarist I’d slept beside last night. But as she looked down on me with her clear blue eyes, her dark-blonde hair framing her face, she looked too fucking beautiful to be human. Except she had a lot of tattoos, and probably cussed way too much to have a pair of wings.
“Hey, baby.” My head lifted off the pillow and enjoyed my morning view. That T-shirt I’d been such a fan of last night was still doing a stand-up job this morning. Must be a little chilly in here as well because her cute little peaks were standing to attention. Just the way I liked them.
“You need to take care of something.” Her eyes floated down my body and landed on my cock. The bastard obviously had already received his wake up call, and was alert and ready for action.
“Was that a question or a statement?” I smiled knowing full well unless someone took care of it, I was going to be rocking the biggest set of blue balls for the rest of the day.
“Oh, no. I had it digging into my back for the past hour. It’s all about you. Have fun with it. I’m going back to sleep.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder and rolled back onto her side.
“Wait, so you woke me up because my hard-on was bugging you, and now you’re just going to go back to sleep.” My hand pulled on her shoulder, flipping her back against the mattress. “You could have just ignored it, you know. Let me deal with it when I got up.”
It’s not like my dick was going to jailbreak from my boxers and demand a blowjob or something. He and I were perfectly content to catch some more Z’s until the natural course of progression woke us up. Then I could do what I usually did in the mornings, and jerk off in the shower.
“I was as polite as I’m gonna be.” She waved it off like it was me being unreasonable. “Every time I moved or turned around it poked me like I was a piñata.” Her finger jabbed me in the chest in illustration. “My bed, my rules—and I don’t need your hard-on trying to play Marco Polo while I sleep.”
“Fine, it’s too early in the morning to argue.” I kicked off the covers, the culprit in question sticking out proudly from my hips. “You need anything else while I’m up?”
And yeah, I meant to say it exactly like that. We still had our wager on the table and if I got her to fold, I would happily kill two birds with one stone. Efficient and enjoyable, a much better way to wake up than the shake-n-bake she’d given me.
“Sure, if you’re offering. Crackers would be nice, thanks.” She smiled sweetly and then rolled away from me for the second time this morning. Her muffled laughter hinting she knew how much she was getting under my skin.
“Just so you know.” This time it was my turn to grin. “I’m going to think of you.” My feet hit the floor, as my ass lifted off the mattress.
“I’m not sure if I should be horrified or honored.” She laughed, her body shaking gently under the sheets.
“You could be helpful if you really wanted,” I offered, only half joking.
“Thanks but I’m sitting this one out. Besides, no point in both of us being awake.” She yawned, keeping her back to me.
It would have been a minute, two at most before her slow, steady breathing returned. She was out like a light, and I couldn’t help but stare.
I’d never really seen her like that; completely oblivious to how beautiful she looked right now. She seemed sort of vulnerable, her body tucked up tight in a ball as she lay on her side. A complete contradiction to what she was usually like.
Her face was another story. As I moved to the other side of the bed, I got an eyeful of her stunning features. From this side, she didn’t look so vulnerable. She looked fierce, her forehead slightly crinkled in concentration even though she wasn’t awake. Her eyelashes bouncing gently off the top of her cheeks as her sleep deepened. Yeah, it had definitely been my bad missing this.
As much as I would have enjoyed channeling my inner creeper and pulling up a chair, sitting here and watching all morning wasn’t the plan. I didn’t even want to be up in the first place, my renegade dick getting us both kicked out of bed. The sooner I got that taken care of, the sooner
I could climb back in. Hopefully I’d be rewarded; a hand on her ass would cover it. I should have asked before I left.
Naturally I was a master at clearing the pipes, especially in the morning which meant a few minutes under the spray of the shower was all it took to get the big guy to go nocturnal. No promises he’d stay that way, especially if she let me touch her ass.
After a quick shower—I was there anyway might as well get clean after I’d gotten dirty—I made a quick pit stop in her kitchen. The tour of the house rounded out when I ended back in her bedroom with my ass on the mattress beside Sleeping Beauty.
“You smell nice.” She rolled over to me, her eyes closed despite her smile. “Did you use my shampoo?”
“Yeah. I figured if I smelled like you it would help with the fantasy.” I laughed, my reasoning about fifty percent true. “I got your crackers too. You want me to feed you? I think I have my palm leaf somewhere and I’m already wearing the towel.”
“Is that a joke this early in the morning, Joe?” Her eyes cracked open and gave me a grin. “Wow, you’re in rare form.”
“It’s these sheets I’m telling you.” My hands stroked the whatever-thread count-insert country-here-cotton suggestively. “Best sleep I’ve had in awhile. Whatever they are, I’m getting like a hundred pair. In fact, fuck it. I’m going to wear them like togas. I could easily bring back that trend.”
I put the crackers on the nightstand, more interested in the lady between the kick ass sheets.
“It’s been working for Frat boys for years.” She nodded, giving me her seal of approval. “I think if anyone has a shot. It’s you.”
“The only reason I’m sad I missed college.” I held my hand over my heart. “You feeling okay?” She didn’t look like she was going to puke, but I hadn’t seen her toss her cookies, so I couldn’t be sure this wasn’t the face right before it happened.
“Yeah, usually it’s when I get vertical things go south. I try to work my way up to it.” She shuffled up slightly on the bed, her back resting against the headboard as she stayed under the covers. The sheet slipped down enough to give a spectacular money shot of her tits. Sadly, they were still in the top she’d worn to bed but it still was a nice good morning.
“Is there anything I can do?” Not that I had any nursing qualifications or knew what she needed, but I could improvise like a champ and my bedside manner was second to none.
“You can tell me about CJs.” She smiled, spilling she had knowledge on something that currently was supposed be on need-to-know.
“How did you find out about that? We haven’t been announced yet.”
I hadn’t told her. At least I didn’t think I had. I did have a tendency to talk in my sleep, and could spill virtually anything after shooting my load but neither of these things had happened, so I was confident the weakest link hadn’t been me. Write that on your calendar, peeps.
“I know everything, Joey. How many times do I have to tell you?” She held her hands in front on her like she was consulting her crystal ball.
“You know exactly what this means, Kenz. The opportunity, it sort of feels like a fucking rite of passage. It’s up there with playing the Garden, but it means a little bit more because this is all us.”
It was good she knew because other than the band there really wasn’t anyone to talk with about this. We weren’t supposed to tell anyone yet—although obviously someone had failed on that part—and my family had no idea what it meant. Someone like Kenz knew exactly what I was feeling without the long story.
“Yeah, I get that. It’s a big deal.” She grabbed a cracker from her nightstand and bit a corner off, chewing thoughtful. I guess she hadn’t made her mind up if she was going to puke either.
“You’re going to be there, right?” The need to have her there suddenly important. “You’ll come see us play? It’s not for a couple of weeks but I want you there.”
It was going to be a big night, possibly one of the biggest, so yeah I wanted her there. Plus, if she was there my kid would be there too and that was cool in itself; that I got to share that moment with them. Wow. Fuck. My kid. Yeah, I wanted them both there.
“Of course, I’ll be there. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you guys play.” Her hand reached out and touched mine.
“Uh-hmm.” I tried to move the lump in my throat and changed the subject. There were a few acceptable times to have a Kleenex moment, but having a chat in a bedroom wasn’t it. “So, what’s the thing on your kitchen table?”
I’d noticed the greenery on my way through and while I couldn’t be sure it hadn’t been here the last time I visited—we’d fucked in the kitchen but I hadn’t looked—the big red bow was the tip off it was new. Its presence in itself was surprising, Kenzie more known for her fancy finger work than her green thumb.
“Ah, you met Hendrix.” She nodded taking another nibble of the cracker, the first few bites staying put. “He’s a gift from Sara, you know to practice looking after stuff.”
“You named your plant, Hendrix? That is badass. Well done.”
I was impressed she hadn’t gone with something lame like Leafy or Walter, let’s face it there wasn’t a lot you could call a plant and it sound cool but she had most definitely achieved that.
“Sar named him, but I concurred. So I’ll take badass by default.” She grinned, another few nibbles on the cracker. “Have you thought about names for us?”
“You mean for the baby?” I asked like a dumbass.
“No, for us because twenty some-odd years with the same name is boring.” She tossed me a look that told me she had made the same assessment. “Of course for the baby.”
Well.
Fuck.
My eyes blinked rapidly as my brain short-circuited. And not in the kind of way where I pictured her naked. This was completely different.
“Ummm.”
Nope, still nothing. On second thought, what the hell was my own name? Because at this point that wasn’t flashing front and center either.
“We’re not calling our kid Ummm, Joey.” She eyeballed me with a smirk, the slight dig somehow making me feel better I’d had a complete mind dump.
“No, I just mean I hadn’t thought about it. I just figured it was a long time away.”
More like it seemed like an eternity away and the thought of being responsible for naming another human scared the fucking crap out of me.
“It is.” She nodded with what seemed like a huge case of I’m-not-worried; how she had it all together was still a source of wonder. “I was just curious if you had any ideas, that’s all.”
Rather than prove I had no fucking idea, I decided to throw the ball in her court. Considering she was the only one of the two of us who seemed to have a clue.
“What about you? Have you got any ideas?”
“I was thinking Lennon, sort of works for both a boy or a girl.” She smiled like she hadn’t just thought about giving our unborn kid the worst possible name ever. I take back what I said. She didn’t have a clue either.
“I’d rather call our kid Ummm.” Was she serious? “We are not naming him or her after a Beatle.” Pfft. Like that was even a possibility.
“What have you got against The Beatles?”
Jesus. She was serious. How much time did she have?
“Dude, they’re like a hundred years old. Their music sucked and they were English. I want our kid to have an American name.”
“They aren’t a hundred years old.” She gave me the eye-roll, head shake combo I usually got when we didn’t agree.
“Their music still sucked.”
Not even she could debate how snore-town their tunes had been. I wanna hold your hand? Can someone please give them some testicles and a different cord progression?
“Okay, so you think of something.”
Random names pinged around my noggin with nothing sticking. Maybe she had something going with the musician thing. Nothing cooler than sharing your name with greatness.
“
What about Tommy if it’s a boy, Lee if it’s a girl.” The Mötley Crüe drummer being one of my first idols.
“Sure, let’s name our kid after a coked-up drummer who has a sex tape. That makes all the sense in the world.”
“Firstly, he might have been on drugs, but he was and still is a fucking kick ass drummer. Secondly, did you see the size of his cock? Mad props to him and his monster dick.” No sooner had the words come out of my mouth than I realized what I’d said. The cold-day-in-hell Kenz was shooting me was also another tip off.
Okay, on second thought, our kid wasn’t getting named Tommy Lee. Like ever. Now I needed to also wash the visual from my mind with about two gallons of bleach.
“Not happening,” she unnecessarily confirmed. “What about something like Chance?”
“Are you fucking with me right now?” She must be fucking with me. Lennon and Chance were her suggestions? “Why don’t we just cut out the middleman and steal his lunch money right now. Because that’s what a name like that gets you. A couple of black eyes too. No, our kid gets a normal fucking name. Oh, and no tricked up spelling either.”
Or hooker names. Or jock names. And no fucking names that sound like a bunch of letters that some sucker believes is the Hawaiian word for purity.
“I believe it’s your turn.” She laughed, seeming to thoroughly enjoy how easily I got annoyed.
“Shit this is really hard.” Thank God we had more time because we were going to need it.
“I hope that wasn’t your suggestion because if it was, I’m putting Lennon back on the table.”
“Ha. Ha. You’re so funny, and no that wasn’t the suggestion.”
God she was beautiful. Maybe it’s ’cause we were talking about our kid but I swear it’s like every day she just got more stunning. I had to remind myself that the fact we were having this conversation was proof I had already been there. And even still, it seemed hard to believe. Max was right to think she would never be with me. Why the hell would she? She must have men climbing the walls to get to her. Thank God our little agreement meant I didn’t have to worry about that for a while.