Perfect For Me

by Lexy Timms

  Picking his head up, he sees Lara three buildings ahead of him. Except she’s not running, she’s chosen to stop and watch him. Grinning, he gets back on his feet and heads toward the next roof. He leaps off again, this time landing more gracefully than before. Even with the advantage of a longer stride, he cannot catch up to Lara, who has started running again. She moves across the roofs with such grace it almost looks like she is floating.

  Still, he does not give up as he runs faster than before.

  He looks up when a shadow casts itself over him. Clouds have rolled in, the winds becoming fiercer than before. Ahead of him, Lara makes one more leap, tucking and rolling onto another rooftop. She stops to catch her breath, but is then surprised to hear Grady landing on the same roof as her. He gets up and dusts off his shirt, which has come completely unbuttoned, and grins.

  Like her, he’s dripping with sweat. He approaches, and before she can look for another building to jump, he seizes her.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?” he yells. “You could’ve been killed.”

  She shrugs and laughs. “I’m not scared of death.”

  He shakes his head. “Wild girl,” he mutters.

  She walks up to him and slaps the receipt in his hand. The deep pools of her eyes look into the ocean blue of his. “I know you used the money to help out the kid yesterday. What I want to know is why?”

  Grady shoves the slip of paper back in his pocket. “He was just a kid with a lot of years to turn his life around for the better. He won’t have that if he’s stuck in this line of business.”

  She stares at him, studying him intensely. “That was…nice of you.” Her eyebrows raise on her pretty face.

  From the heavens a boom of thunder screams across the sky. Swollen grey clouds have gathered above their heads. Fat droplets of water fall, the beginning to a downpour that is soon to follow.

  Grady looks at Lara, who is wiping raindrops from under her eye. “We need to get off the roof.”

  “We’ll head inside.” She grins wickedly. “This is your townhouse, after all.”

  She leaves him for the fire escape.

  Grady runs to the edge of the roof and looks over. To his surprise, he recognizes the street below. However, there isn’t time to be impressed as the sky opens up to allow the rain to come cascading down. He jogs over to the fire escape, but is drenched by the time he plants his feet onto the metal. The steel is slick, making the descent slower. He’s soaked.

  At the first window, he climbs inside. He finds Lara already stripping out of her wet clothes. A bolt of lightning hits somewhere off in the distance, its light brightens up the sky. He shuts the window behind him before stripping off his shirt. It makes a squished thump on the carpet, soaking water into the fibers.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Lara says as she stands there in her black bra and silk panties. “Do they have any special meaning?”

  She’s referring to his tattoos. Grady looks down his arm, finding ink coiling around his flesh like a colorful serpent. The artwork has blended together, creating a mural. Some of his older tattoos have warped slighting ever since his muscles bulked up, but the majority still retain their original shape. While they are heavily concentrated around his arm, one remains broken from the group. It is three stars running down the center. It is a simple black and white piece of artwork. Wrapping around the trio of stars is a banner with the words: “Integrity”, “Love”, and “Trust”.

  When he looks at the ink, he smiles. Turning back to Lara, he is unsure what to say, so he shrugs.

  The gesture makes her scoff. “What are they to you?” she demands.

  Grady places his hand on the bicep covered in ink. They’ve always been personal to him. “They’re memories. Some people like to keep pictures in a scrapbook to remember. I keep my memories on my sleeve…” He exhales slowly. “So I’ll never forget.”

  Lara leans in close to his arm and slowly moves his hand. She looks over them before pointing to one. “What memory is that one linked to?”

  Seeing it makes Grady smile. “That was when my old man took me to my first baseball game. A foul ball came our way. My dad fought off three guys to get it for me.” Suddenly, he feels his eyes burn. He rubs them before Lara can see. “So, uh, what about you? Do yours have meaning?”

  She looks at the large clock covering her arm. The black and white clock face keeps its hands steady, never moving forward in the passage of time. “I got this one when I got sucked up into this life. The keys are meant for later. I told myself that my life, my real life, would be put on hold until I can get out. Of course, that was five years ago. I guess I shouldn’t have added the keys. I don’t think my clock’ll ever start moving again.”

  “I don’t think that’s true,” Grady objects to that notion. “It’s not too late. It’s never too late. You know you’re too good for this life, Lara. You’re too smart, too beautiful to let your life stop here. There’s so much more you can do.”

  She just stares at him, peering into his eyes. “Your eyes,” she whispers. “They’re like pools of the ocean. I can see myself being swept up in them, drowning in them.”

  He reaches for her cheek and gently brushes his finger along her skin. He refuses to let himself think. He just wants to feel this moment. His hand moves to the back of her neck. His fingers part her blond locks. Neither stops the other as they move closer. Their lips are magnetically drawn towards each other’s and soon graze. The touch sends both of them crashing into the other’s arms.

  Grady can’t think. All he wants is to melt into her, to lose himself in her touch. She tastes beyond delicious. His tongue goes to force its way into her mouth but she opens hers wider and pushes hers in before he can react. He groans against her mouth, his hands touching her soft, wet skin.

  They are lost in one another. It’s not until Grady breaks free from the veil of lust that Lara also comes to her senses too. A smile graces her kissed lips. “You know, I have other tattoos,” she says coyly. “Three roses.”

  Grady glances over her arm and hungrily skims over the thin black material covering her breasts. “I only count one.”

  Not answering right away, she walks from the bedroom toward the bathroom. “I only let people I really like see the other two. Let me show you them.”

  She removes her top, exposing her back. Grady can see the second rose. Its petals float over her left shoulder blade, the stem curving along with the curves of her body. He never noticed it this morning, how could he have missed it? He swallows, his mouth suddenly dry.

  Covering herself, she glances back with a smile. Then she walks into the bathroom, but purposefully leaves the door wide open for him. He hears the faucet squeak and water fall. He imagines the warm wetness showering down upon her. Oh shit. He’s screwed.

  “Do you want to see the third?” she calls.

  Guided by some primal force within him, Grady follows her. He undoes his belt and lets the rest of his clothes fall at his feet. Inside the bathroom, he sees her being embraced by the steam inside the glass shower. He opens the shower door, exposing her to his eyes. She simply smiles and pulls him into the shower with her.

  He pushes her up against the glass, kissing the nape of her neck. It makes her shiver. He kisses again, causing her back to arch. The steam rises as the hot water beats against his back. It creates a mist that coils around them. Grady picks her up off her feet. A soft coo slips from her lips as it is drowned by the pounding water that falls upon them.

  A fog covers the bathroom, floating gently around the floor, steaming the glass. Yet even the water cannot drown the sounds of pleasure. Lara’s hand presses against the glass as she lets out a moan. It pulls away but the handprint still remains. Soon her back presses up against the same spot, her cries of pleasure getting louder.

  Grady doesn’t remember ever wanting a woman this bad. It feels primal. His fingers find the sweet spot between her legs and her hips arch instantly toward him, as if he controls her. It onl
y makes him harder. She’s beyond beautiful.

  He knows she’s ready for him and the look in her eyes begs him to bring her to release. His hands cup her wet ass as he lifts her again against the glass and rotates her hips so she is ready for him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knows he shouldn’t be doing this, it’s only going to lead to trouble. He ignores the warning as he enters her, no longer caring about anything except finding release.

  Her fingernails scrape along his back as she lifts her hips so he slides in and out of her.

  “Fuck,” he hisses against her neck as his mouth claims whatever part of her he can reach. “Lara!” he cries out. “Slow down, woman.”

  She ignores him, lost in her own pleasure as her breath and hips move faster and harder. Her back arches suddenly and the back of her head presses against the glass, giving him full view and access of her breasts.

  His tongue flicks out and licks her nipple. Instantly it hardens to his touch. He nabs it with his teeth and sucks it between his lips, catching the taste of water and sweat. Her muscles tighten around his cock as she cries out and trembles around him.

  It’s too much. Grady has lost all control. He manages to pull out just before he comes. Her feet drop to the shower floor and instantly her hand reaches for him, stroking and finishing what he didn’t let her cunt finish.

  Soon after, the water is shut off and the steam dissipates as the two of them leave the shower together. Still dripping wet, they make their way to the bed and climb beneath the covers. Grady kisses her, and before long the two of them continue what they had been doing while in the shower.

  Hours later, Lara is exhausted and asleep on Grady’s chest. The storm has subsided and the moon has poked its way between the clouds. Its glow casts a white spotlight onto the bed. As serene as the night is, Grady remains wide awake, staring up at the ceiling.

  A thought prevents him from sleep:

  What the hell am I doing?

  Chapter 6

  The following morning hits Grady like a hammer pounding on an anvil. He lifts his head from the pillow, only to have it feel like it’s full of water. The painful smashing in his skull makes him dizzy, so he drops it back down on the plush cushion. Peering down along his chest, he finds Lara still fast asleep lying on top of him. Her hand rests just over his heart. He can see the inked words of his tattoo between her fingers. Her head rises gently with his breathing, but she herself does not stir.

  At first, Grady does not believe what he sees is actually true, thinking it might be a dream. He rubs his eyes, trying to remove the sleep from them. When he opens them again, he still finds a naked sleeping beauty in his bed. The memory of last night returns¸ making him smile and grow hard.

  With the memories comes a bit of pain. Grady winces as he feels something like a stinger shoot him in the arm. Looking at it, he finds the flesh torn and bloodied. Bits of the rooftop gravel were able to cling to his skin, even after he showered. Luckily, the damages are minor, just scratches at best. The hits his body took while jumping from roof to roof have left a nice set of bruises on his shoulder and along his side. He touches the black and blue one along the side of his rib cage, flinching from the soreness.

  Pulling his uninjured arm from under the bedsheets, he reaches over and places a hand on her bare back. She is warm to the touch, skin as smooth as silk. He runs his fingers through her hair before falling back to the pillow.

  As soon as he shuts his eyes, Grady hears the buzzing of his phone on the nightstand. Trying his best not to wake the sexy beauty, he stretches for the phone. A few of his fingers manage to touch the screen. Using his nails he drags it closer to the edge. The cellphone teeters on the edge of the nightstand. Getting his thumb underneath, he scoops it off before it falls to the floor. Reeling it into him, he looks at the number. With Tony being the only contact he has in this phone, he does not recognize it.

  Nonetheless, he puts it up to his ear.

  “Hullo?” he whispers into the phone, but loud enough so that the recipient can hear him.

  “Grady, we need to talk,” a gravelly and somewhat familiar voice speaks on the other line.

  “Sure.” Grady sighs, still a bit groggy. Is it possible to be hungover from too much sex? “Who is this again?”

  “Baxton,” the commissioner snaps, sounding none-to-pleased. “We need to talk. Go to the café three blocks south of your townhouse. I’ll meet you there.”

  Realizing he’s speaking with the head of the NYPD, a rush of adrenaline pumps into Grady. He shoots upright in bed. “Gotchya.”

  The sudden jerk sends Lara rolling off of him, causing her to fall off the bed. She hits the floor with a muffled thud thanks to the comforter being wrapped round her. Yet, she still manages to curse. He watches her poke her head up from the carpet and shoot him a hard look. “What the hell?”

  He tries to sound apologetic, “Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

  “You knocked me off the bed!”

  He gives a weak smile and sets the phone down. He’s sitting naked on the bed. His hard-on in plain sight.

  “Who was that on the phone?” she asks him suspiciously.

  “It,” Grady pauses, realizing he had forgotten his backstory. His blue eyes flicker as his brain searches for the answer that he needs. Finally it hits him. “It was my sponsor.” So much for the hard-on.

  “You have a sponsor?” She looks at him oddly. “For what?”

  “For my gambling addiction,” he says, the charade coming easier now. “I told you that I plan on getting out of this life once I’ve enough money.”

  Lara stares at him in disbelief. Sadness reaches her eyes. She sighs. “Grady, I told you that—”

  “I know what you said,” he cuts her off as he climbs out of bed and grabs his jeans lying on the floor next to it. Zipping them up he turns to Lara, who is standing but now wrapped in the thin bedsheet. Fuck, she’s sexy. “I intend to prove you wrong. I’m getting out.”

  “You’ll just get pulled right back in,” she insists.

  He grabs a clean shirt from his closet. “And if I don’t,” he wonders, walking to the door, “if I can get out of this life, you can do the same.” They’re daring words. He barely knows her, has no idea what her life is or where she’s from. But five years is too long to be stuck here.

  He spins around and scoops her up, kissing the soft flesh of her breasts peering out of the top of the sheet. A sexy growl escapes her lips and he has to convince himself to not get tangled in the sheets with her instead of meeting the commissioner. He lays her on the bed and whispers in her ear, nipping at the lobe at the same time, “Sleep, I’ll be back in a bit.”

  He steps out of the bedroom and into the bathroom. They left a trail of water on the floor last night. He tosses a towel on the floor before flushing the toilet and brushing his teeth. He’s already running late.

  Jumping down the stairs, he hurries across the living room to the front door. He opens it and walks out into New York. The air conditioner in his townhouse provided much-needed cool to combat the bitter heat outside. The air is thick with humidity. Steam rises from the streets from the aftermath of the storm that lasted until the early hours of the morning. Breathing seems to be nearly impossible, as Grady chokes on the first few breaths. Sweat droplets start to form on his brow as he walks down the stoop to the sidewalk. As he glides into the crowds, he notices that a lot of people are cradling water jugs the size of newborn babes. Some have handheld fans blasting warm air on their faces. It does little to keep cool. Pushing through the crowds, Grady hastens his pace to the café, secretly praying they have air conditioning.

  A hot trip later has him standing outside the café, or more accurately a coffee shop. It is packed with people trying to squeeze into the building to get out of the unbearable heat wave. Grady becomes sandwiched between a businessman and a tourist. The three of them are shoved through the door and are swept up in the cool air. Vents overhead send streams of frigid air onto them. The feeling is ecsta
sy. Grady basks in the wonderful feeling, unable to move from under the vent. It blows along his hair, almost freezing the sweat on his face. It is only when he is shoved away that he returns to doing what he came for. Taking a look around the café, he has a hard time finding the commissioner. Obviously, the man is in some sort of disguise. Whatever it is, he’s fooling Grady, because he cannot find Baxton in the crowd.

  “Excuse me, are you Mr. Miller?” the familiar voice of the commissioner rings in his ear, but the tone is completely different.

  Grady looks over his shoulder to find a man that looks somewhat like Commissioner Baxton. However, this guy looks like he belongs more at a summer camp instead of a police station. While they share the same silvery mustache on their upper lips, this Baxton has a pair of oversized sunglasses added to his face. Something sits atop the commissioners’ head. Whether it is an attempt of a comb over or a poorly made wig, Grady is not sure. He is dressed in a bright and colorful Hawaiian shirt. It’s buttoned up, leaving the top two undone. A tuft of chest hair pokes through the shirt. The only thing that does not look quite as bizarre is the cargo shorts.

  Seeing the head of the NYPD dressed like this causes Grady great internal pain. He’s forced to bite the inside of his lip to hold back his laughter. “Yup, that’s me. You must be my sponsor,” he says, shaking the commissioners’ hand. As odd as the man looks, he still keeps the firm handshake he would expect of a man of his stature. “I want to first thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”

  “Oh, any time. As long as I get to help you.” Baxton gives an uncomfortably cheery smile.