It's Just Love, Not a Time Bomb

by Dawn Martens

  “Nice place,” he says, looking around.

  He follows me out of the room, and I show him to the living room. “This is the living room. I don’t care what you do here, but no masturbating on my couch. Take that shit to your room.”

  His eyebrows shoot up, and he stares at me like I lost my marbles.

  Continuing on. “I won’t do your laundry, so if I find your shit in my basket, I’ll throw them in the trash. Also, if I find your underwear on the floor, anywhere that is not in your room, I will hang them outside for all to see.”

  “Yeah, um sure,” he says, looking shocked, then gives his head a shake.

  “Food, well, I don’t want anything in return for you staying here, because I’m doing this for Sarah, but once a month, you are in charge of the groceries.” Just because I’m letting him stay here without paying me anything, doesn’t mean I’m gonna be the only one paying for the food around here.

  “That’s more than fair,” he says.

  “If you want to bang someone, take it to their house. I don’t want skanks here, got me?” I tell him.

  I catch him staring at me, a hungry expression on his face.

  Chewing on my bottom lip, thinking. “I won’t fuck you,” I declare, hands on my hips, showing my determination. I keep repeating it to myself in my head, because if not, I might be the one going back on my own word.

  He has the balls to smile wickedly at me, like he is thinking about doing just that—fucking me. Feeling slightly exposed as he rakes his eyes over my body. “My eyes are up here, bucko.” I jerk his attention back to my face.

  His eyes narrow. “You say that now, Princess, but when the time comes, you will fuckin’ beg me to fuck you. Trust me on that.” He’s so sure of himself.

  “When? Really? You think so, huh?” I smirk. I can’t help myself as an image of him doing just that crosses my mind. I’m in trouble.

  “I know so. Not right now, obviously, because you have some giant stick up your damn ass, but yeah, it will happen,” he says, smirking right back at me. “But until then, I’ll settle for friends. Once the stick comes out of your ass, my room, well, you know where it is,” he says, hooking his thumb and pointing down the hall. “I’ll be waiting.”

  He walks to his room and shuts his door before I can respond. “What the hell?” I ask myself, quietly falling against the wall. What have I gotten myself into? I have got to get myself under control. I will not fuck him, but damn if I don’t want to. He is hott.

  Sarah told me he just went through a nasty break up. For someone going through heartbreak, he sure is rebounding awfully fast.

  “Shit!” I mutter.

  What was I thinking saying that shit? Who the fuck goes all caveman like that? Well, obviously, me of course. Why the fuck has she got me so riled up? I know why—her fuckin’ attitude! Seeing her when she first appeared in the airport arrivals lounge, there was zero sign of this snappy bitch. The minute she opened her mouth, I knew I was instantly hooked, and definitely going to have her. I have to get my game plan together. How can someone so fucking nuts, be so damn hott at the same time?

  Her house is pretty damn nice, I must say, except for the room she put me in. The dark brown color makes it feel like I’m in a matchbox room. The other rooms she showed me, were a beige color. It made the rooms seem bigger than they were.

  The living room was a dark green with a dark brown trim, which normally would look terrible, but it fit the design of the room.

  Her kitchen was huge, and she had a set of French doors separating it from the living room, with a huge kitchen island. Sarah would love to get in there and cook up a disaster and force us to eat it.

  She has a downstairs that has two more bedrooms, another living room, and a set of French doors off the living room that leads to an office, plus the laundry room and an additional bathroom. For a single woman, I don’t understand why she lives by herself in such a huge house.

  Reaching into my pocket for my cell, I dial up Bobby while pacing the bedroom floor. “What’d you do?” he says as his greeting.

  “What do you mean, what did I do? Why do you think I did something?” Sitting on my bed, only to go back to pacing the floor. This girl has me all kinds of fucked in the head right now, with her whiplash attitude.

  He chuckles. “Well, considering you just got home with Alix, and she’s on the phone with Sarah right now, yelling at her about something you said about ‘when’ you’ll be fucking her, it’s kinda all pointing at you, my man. ”

  “Oh, that, it was nothing,” I say, sinking onto the bed again.

  “You like her, don’t you?” he accuses.

  “This living arrangement is gonna be the death of me, ain’t it? The chick is crazy,” I say with a heavy sigh, flopping backwards and running my hand through my hair.

  “Yup. Good luck with that.” Bobby laughs as he hangs up.

  With one hand still in my hair while I stare at the ceiling, my other hand, still clutching the phone, falls heavily to my side.

  Having nothing else to do with my time, I decide to grab a quick shower and try to scrub my hotter than hell new roommate from my mind. The water is spraying down over me, my head suddenly having flashes of Alix’s dress, showing off her very fine ass. My dick is growing harder with every passing image. Trying to push the thoughts away, I continue to soap up my body, only to be met with resistance from my cock and it demanding release. Gripping my cock, I begin to give in to what my body desires, only wishing Alix was touching me instead. Fuck, she is sexy as sin. I picture her down on her knees, glancing up at me while licking her lips, ready to pleasure me. A moan slips from my lips as my hand tightens around my cock, squeezing, trying to get some kind of control.

  Closing my eyes doesn’t help. I’m bombarded with image after image of Alix kneeling in front of me, her eyes darker as they stare into my own. Fuck!

  Resting my other hand on the tiled wall and my forehead against it too, my hand begins to slide over my dick. My eyes close, relishing in the feel of my hand as it glides up and down. Alix’s sweet voice echoes through my head, and even with the angry tone in her voice, it still has me hard as a rock. Grinning slightly, my pace quickens, knowing she wanted me as much as I wanted her. I could tell by the way her breathing picked up when I told her, ‘you will beg me to fuck you. Trust me on that’. The color of her eyes changed instantly, getting darker. It was only for a split second, I saw it, but then she went back to her bitchy self.

  Sliding my other hand down my wet body, my back facing the shower door, I fondle my balls. My own breathing is coming in pants, as I imagine her mouth finally wrapping around the head of my dick. “Shit,” I mutter.

  I am fucked, literally.

  My cock hardens even further, if that’s possible. My hand slides over my erection, faster and faster at the feel of her wet, sexy mouth, devouring me. Her tongue, as it flicks over to the tip of my dick, has my balls pulling up tight under my cock.

  “Fuck.” My head throws back as my body starts to tense up.

  I really hope she removes that damn pole from her ass soon, because I won’t be able to keep my dick away from her for long.

  “I can’t believe he said that to me. Who says shit like that? No real person does! That shit only happens in a Kristen Ashley book, and Hayley, this is not a God damned Kristen Ashley book. Mind you, I wouldn’t mind that shit, you know, if it was before Liam and my whole damn family hadn’t ripped my heart out, but no, not now. Oh my God! Wouldn’t that be really fucking cool, to be written into a Kristen Ashley book?” I say, talking a mile a minute to Hayley on the phone. I just had hung up with Sarah, asking her why she didn’t tell me her friend was a total asshole.

  Trying to continue, I’m cut off by laughter, lots of laughter, and not just hers. “What’s so funny?”

  “Um, Alix, you went from ranting about Jordan to all of a sudden gushing about being written into a Kristen Ashley book. You, my crazy friend, are nutty,” she says through laughter.
/>   “I am not. I’m just animated,” I huff.

  “Animated? This isn’t a cartoon,” she says, cracking up even more.

  “Shut up! Maybe that would be better if it was ’cause then I could chop your head off and kick it around a few times before it magically appeared back on your body,” I deadpanned.

  “Wait. What? Oh My God! What on earth are you talking about now? Seriously? Do you not hear yourself?” she says.

  “I’m starting to feel bad for Jordan,” a deep voice says in the background.

  “Do you have me on speaker phone? Is that the cop dude?” I shout, feeling slightly embarrassed. “We’ll talk tonight when I come over. Later!” I hang up.

  Checking the time and realizing it’s still early enough in the day that I can grab a nap. I guess, considering I have been working my ass off to get my house and my salon running, sleep is exactly what I need. Before I start to doze off, there is a knock on the door.

  I groan and roll over. “What?”

  “Was wondering if you wanted to go out, show me around town a little more?”

  “No, but my keys are out on the counter top. You can take my car and go look around yourself.”

  “Come on, Princess. Don’t make me come in there and jump on the bed.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me. What are you, five?” I jump off the bed and storm over to the door. Opening it to face him. “Look, I’m going for a nap. I need it right now. Bother me again, and I’ll shove my foot so far up your ass, it will have to get surgically removed!” I say and shut the door in his smug face. Why does he have to smile at me like that? How am I going to take a nap now, with his face playing around in my head? Ugh!

  Feisty little thing; Sarah didn’t warn me about that. Then again, Sarah doesn’t really know her that well, so she may not know what she got me into. Thinking of taking her up on the offer to use her car, I decide to do just that, and head off in search for a liquor store and take out for supper.

  Discovering that this city, Calgary, is huge, I get lost about a million times. On a good note, there are pretty much three to four liquor stores on just about every street, maybe even more. Back home, we have two or three in each town or city, mostly all run by the government.

  Not sure what all Alix likes to eat, I decide hit up the local Dairy Queen, and notice something on the menu that has my stomach churning. “You advertise that poutine crap?” Sarah force-fed me some of the French fries and gross cheese, covered in gravy once in high school. Nasty shit!

  The chick at the counter rolls her eyes at me and snaps her gum. “Seriously?”

  “Wow, great costumer service, but whatever. I don’t think I’d be caught dead eating that shit, but I’ll grab one anyways. My roommate might like it.” She rings up the rest of my order, and I head back to Alix’s place. It only took me three wrong turns and forty minutes to get back there. I need to buy a God damned GPS to live here.

  Pulling into the driveway, I notice there is another car in it. Good thing I bought extra food. As I walk inside, I hear female laughter, and instantly my dick twitches. Shit, why does my dick always go for the bitchy women? I don’t think I’ve ever dated someone that wasn’t. Of course, at first they are always sweet and totally fuckable, but then they turn into clingy raging bitches. At least with Alix, her shit seems to be in your face, so no hidden agenda. So far, at least.

  “When I got home though, I sure got it. Of course, the babysitter was instantly fired, because really, what person in their right mind lets a nine-year-old watch Freddy Krueger movies?” I hear Alix say with a laugh.

  “What’d I miss?” I say as I enter the room.

  The guy on the couch gives a shake of his head. “Just the story of Alix chasing some kid around the bank when she was nine-years-old, pretending she was Freddy Krueger and singing the song. The woman is fucking deranged.”

  Picturing that scene in my head makes me let out a small laugh.

  “Jordan, this is my friend, Hayley. We opened a salon the next street over together. This is her current fuck toy, The Cop,” she says, introducing me to everyone, not caring that she pretty much just insulted this guy. “I would have gone to their place tonight, but you weren’t back with my car, so they just came here.”

  “Wow, babe, you said he was hott, total sex on legs. You weren’t kidding,” Hayley says from the couch, staring at me. Alix’s cheeks turn bright red. Hayley reminds me a bit of my friends back home. I think we will get on just fine.

  “The Cop? Nice name.” I say questionably.

  He shakes his head, looking like he wants to haul Hayley off and spank her because of her comment. “She won’t cut that out. Name’s Brock Peters.” Dude seems all right. Looks like you’d expect a cop to—all broad shoulders, buzz cut, and muscles.

  Hayley starts rubbing her hands in glee. Alix notices it and narrows her eyes at her friend. “What are you up to?” she asks.

  “Fresh meat, someone that doesn’t know you well. I think it’s story time,” she says grinning. Alix puts her head down, almost as if in defeat. Oh yeah, I definitely like Hayley. She is going to burn fuel to my fire to drive Alix crazy.

  “I brought food. Wasn’t sure what you liked, but there is enough for everyone,” I say, giving Alix the bags of takeout.

  She goes through the bag, taking out the wraps and burgers, and then finally the box that looks like puke.

  “Yay, thank you! I was gonna make one of these myself tonight! Hayley, go get me the ketchup,” she yells to her friend, opening the box of puke.

  “You are sharing that with me!” Hayley yells from the kitchen.

  “No way! Go get your own,” Alix shouts back.

  “You like that shit?” I ask disgusted.

  “Hell yeah! This shit rocks! One of my favorites,” she says, taking the ketchup bottle from Hayley and pouring a shit load of it on her pile of puke. “I will force you to like this shit. Trust me, it’s fucking good!”

  Yeah, no. She would like that nasty shit. I shake my head.

  I’m glad her friends are here; she seems to have loosened up from earlier.

  Jordan and I have this weird like/hate relationship going on. I swear, even Hayley says we fight like a married couple, and it’s totally wigging me out. He’s been living here for about two weeks now, and it’s weird, but we’ve settled into a sort of friendship thing.

  Hayley likes him, which is strange, because she usually only likes guys she screws around with. She keeps telling me that Jordan has the hotts for me, but I don’t see it. He acts more like a five-year-old that likes to piss off little girls.

  French fries is what’s for supper tonight; it’s easy, and I don’t feel like doing a big clean up. When I hear the front door open, I add more fries to the deep fryer, since most likely he’ll want something to eat too. If he wants more than fries, he’s going to have to make something else to go alongside it himself.

  He comes into the kitchen and tosses my car keys on the table.

  “It’s starting to get cold out there,” he says, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the chair.

  “Pfft, that’s nothing. Wait until November, we’ll get minus fifty and a mountain of snow,” I tell him.

  He stares at me, obviously shocked. “It really gets that cold here?”

  I nod and peak inside the fryer, giving the basket a shake.

  “Make enough for me too?” he asks.

  “Yup, just fries though. If you want more than that, you’re on your own,” I tell him.

  “Nah, that’s fine. If I get hungry later, I’ll order a pizza or some shit.”

  Looking at his jacket, “You’re going to need a thicker coat before winter hits.”

  “Yeah, maybe you can go with me and show me the good spots to shop.”

  “I guess we could swing that one day. I need to get a few new long-sleeved shirts for work too.”

  We settle down on the couch to watch some boring TV while eating. Jordan practically just swallows his food w
hole, and then he starts reaching over for mine.

  I slap his hand when he tries to grab a fry, but he just ends up snatching it with his other hand.

  “Don’t touch my damn food!” I yell at him. That’s another rule I guess I should have made clear. I don’t like people sticking their hands in my food. It’s gross. “I didn’t see you wash your hands. For all I know, you could have been scratching your ass or picking your nose before you got here. You weren’t scratching your ass in my car were you?”

  “What? You are nuts.”

  “You can’t really be mad at me. All I did was take a fry off your plate.” This chick cracks me up, and I love getting under skin. She is so damn hot when she is angry.

  “Yeah, I am. Maybe I wanted that fry. Ever think of that?” she says, glaring at me.

  I roll my eyes and look over at her. She’s glaring at the TV with her arms crossed. I grin. “Alix, don’t smile,” I say, teasing her. Her lips twitch. “Come on, Princess, don’t smile.”

  A smile takes over her face. “Fuck you! I hate when you do that! When I’m mad at you, leave me alone! You always do that, making me smile and shit! Go away,” she says, still trying to not smile.

  “Well, if you’d stop with the bitch-face all the time, I wouldn’t have to do it,” I tell her, grinning.

  The air in the room changes, her face twisting in anger. “Are you calling me a bitch?” she asks in a low voice.

  Ah shit. “No, that’s not what I said.”

  “Oh really?” she says darkly.

  Grabbing her face, I twist it in my direction. “I’d never call you a bitch. I respect you. Baby, just chill.”

  “Baby?” She squirms away from me. I grab her around her waist, forcing her back on the couch, and start tickling her sides.

  “Fuck, stop! I am going to piss my pants.”

  “Are you going to pee?” I tease, testing her by tickling her under her armpit.