The Renegades

by P. R. Paige

  "But what about breakfast?" I ask her.

  "We have time," Storm says. "Right Rome?

  "Absolutely. India has not come down yet."

  I am not wearing any fingernail polish at the moment, which makes her suggestion very doable, but I am still hesitant. "I don't know. Black really isn't my color."

  "All the more reason to try it now," Rome says.

  "That's right," Storm says. "Be adventurous. Live a little."

  I have only been here a short time, but it's obvious that Rome is a big instigator of the craziness. Without giving it anymore thought, I glide two coats of black fingernail polish onto my thumb and examine it. It is not my style, but it's not bad either.

  "What is taking India so long?" Rome asks Storm.

  "Oh, didn't I tell you? She's watching that DVD again."

  "That's it," Rome says. "Storm, I want you to destroy that DVD. Today."

  "I tried that already, and it doesn't work. She just goes out and buys another one or she just streams it onto her phone."

  "What DVD?" I ask Rome as I lightly blow on my nail polish to dry.

  "The latest Leonardo DiCaprio movie," Storm says. "Ever since she saw that movie, she has been obsessed."

  "Storm, do me a favor," Rome says. "Go tell India to get her buttocks down here and I mean now."

  "India!" Storm yells. "Rome said 'get your ass down here or else.'"

  Rome turns to Storm. "I could have done that myself."

  "Okay, I'll go find her." Storm exits the kitchen in search of India, and for seconds on end, there is nothing but silence between Rome and me. This may be the first time I have been alone with him since moving in. It feels weird, but in a very enticing kind of way.

  I rest my hand underneath my chin and glance over at Rome as he stands at the stove. He wears tailored Perry Ellis shorts and a bright white V-neck t-shirt. I am seduced by is hairy legs so much I want to drop to my knees and crawl over to him on all fours and thrust my head between his legs and up his crotch.

  But I don't do that.

  I only want to do it. Instead, I turn away from him and stare up at the ceiling. I am embarrassed as I listen to my own elongated breaths of arousal.

  "You think staring up at the ceiling is going to help you?" he asks me.

  Damn it! Is he reading my mind?

  "I missed having you in our bed last night," he says to me.

  "I doubt that," I say.

  "You're uncomfortable being alone with me, aren't you?" he asks me.

  I shrug, continually staring up at the ceiling. I'm not giving my eyes one chance to absorb any of his sexiness. "It's you," I say to him. "I think you're uncomfortable being alone with me."

  I close my eyes, making sure to keep my head in the opposite direction of the sexy man only a few feet away from me, hoping that he does not rouse me up any more than I already am.

  It's as if Rome can read my thoughts because he is now standing directly behind me. I feel his warm hand on the tip of my shoulder, and I flinch and exhale a long winded breath. From the corner of my eye, I watch his hand sail down my chest, over my breast, stretching to my stomach, and smack dab in the crotch of my leggings.

  "Spread your legs," he says in a sexy whisper.

  "I will not." My response sounds harsh, but on the inside, I am all smiles. "I am not about to let you seduce me, and of all places, the kitchen?"

  "Would it be better if I seduced you somewhere else?"

  Episode Nine

  "It would be better if you didn't seduce me at all," I say to him and then remove his hand from between my legs.

  "Don't forget," he reminds me, "you and I just made love not more than three weeks ago, and I know how much you enjoyed it, and most of all, I know how much you want it again."

  "You must have me confused with someone else," I say to him, trying desperately to keep him from believing a word of what he just said.

  "I don't think so."

  Fortunately for me, I detect someone heading into the kitchen, and the timing could not be better.

  Storm rejoins me at the table. "She'll be right down," Storm says to Rome.

  While Rome continues scrabbling eggs, I show off my black polished thumb nail to Storm. "What do you think?"

  "Nice," Storm says. "You're beginning to fit right in."

  Rome steps to me and also checks it out. "All you need now is a black hat, a black wig, and a black cape, and then you might have something."

  Finally, as if wanting to make an entrance, India bounces into the kitchen, full of fire. She wears a skimpy bathrobe that is the length of a short t-shirt, exposing her panties. "Good morning, everyone," she says before giving Storm and me a kiss on the cheek.

  "Good morning, Sunshine," Rome says to India.

  India then attacks Rome from behind, wraps her arms around him and hugs him tight.

  "Today is going to be a great day," India says, then seats herself next to me. "And do you know why it's going to be a great day?"

  "No, India, why don't you tell us," Rome says and pours India a cup of chocolate cake roast coffee and sets it in front of her.

  "Because today is the day that Doggie is going to come back to us."

  "And you're certain of this?" Storm asks her.

  "Yes, I am."

  Rome sets a huge plate of French toast and scrambled eggs on the table. "I know India is doing great this morning? How are my other two pretty ladies feeling?"

  "We want some of that Paxil that India is taking," Storm says, "Right, Thursday."

  "That's right," I agree with her. I am a part of the family now, and I have to go along sometimes, if only in words.

  "Well, I will have all of you know," India says, filling her plate with French toast. "I don't take Paxil. I changed my mind. So, you see, this vibrant personality of mine is all mine."

  "That's a matter of opinion," Storms says.

  I bite into my scrambled eggs. They are soft, buttery and delectable. As I notice Storm nibbling on a single piece of French toast, minus the syrup, I now believe that India wasn't exaggerating when she implied that Storm was on the road to anorexia.

  "India, I don't want you to get your hopes up too much about Doggie returning," Rome says. "She may just have had enough of us and wants to start a new life."

  I'm scratching my head again. Am I hearing this right?

  Are they really speaking about the dog as if it's a person?

  "She'll come back," India says with conviction.

  Rome seats herself across from the three of us. As we all dig into our breakfast of French toast, scrambled eggs, and orange juice, I am curious to learn more about this movie India is so obsessed with.

  "India, how many times have you seen this movie that I'm hearing about?"

  "Not that much, like maybe 10 or 20 times."

  "Surely, you jest," I say, my mouth hanging open.

  "Surely, she does not," Rome says. "She's seen it more like close to 50."

  "I've seen it a lot," India confesses. She then lifts her arms and smiles at Rome. "Rome, look, I shaved my underarms this morning."

  Rome stands, leans over and examines her underarms. "Very nice, but what about down there, did you shave down there also?"

  "One thing at a time, Rome. One thing at a time," India says. "It's on my to-do list for tomorrow."

  "Good, because last time I got lost in there and barely found my way out," Rome says and adds another creamer to his coffee.

  Storm laughs and I join her.

  India's eyes shift to me and Storm. "That's not funny."

  "Of course, it is," Storm says.

  "You know I'm just kidding," Rome says. "You know I like playing in the jungle."

  Rome cuts his French toast into squares and pours on a splash of Log Cabin syrup. "What about you, Storm? Do you have anything to impress me with this morning?"

  Storm drinks her water. She's thinking about it. "I ate half a cup of chocolate ice cream at 3:00 o'clock this morning."

&
nbsp; "Did you throw up afterwards?" Rome asks her.

  "Of course?"

  "Impressive," Rome says.

  "Thursday," Storm says, directing massive amounts of attention in my direction. "Now is as good a time as any. Why don't you tell Rome and India what you were doing last night when everyone else thought you were sleeping in your room?"

  My eyes widen and I smile. Storm has just ratted me out, and though the expression on my face is without emotion, I'm howling on the inside.

  How could I not?

  The whole thing is funny as hell.

  "I wasn't doing anything last night while everyone else thought that I was sleeping," I say, hoping to convince them that I am right, and Storm is wrong.

  "Oh, yes you were," Storm insists.

  "It's really not even worth mentioning," I say, finishing up my tea.

  "Of course, it's worth mentioning, Rome says. "Just the fact that you say it isn't worth mentioning, tells me that it definitely is."

  It's no use. I've been found out.

  "Let me put it to you this way," Storm interjects. "Thursday has a little freak inside her, and it just happened to come out last night."

  "I do not have a freak inside of me," I protest.

  "Sure, you do," Rome says.

  "Well, maybe, I do," I say, swallowing the last of my scrambled eggs.

  India claps her hands like she's at a recital. "Yay! I knew I was going to like Thursday. She's just like us."

  "Okay, maybe just a little freak," I admit.

  "Better a little freak than none at all," Storm says.

  All eyes are on me at this moment and it shames me.

  Rome directs his attention to Storm. "Tell us, Storm, exactly what Thursday was doing last night?"

  "I was about to tell you myself," I say.

  "You'll just give us half of the story," India says, "Storm will give it to us straight."

  And sure enough Storm wastes no time telling it all. "Well, according to what I was told, Thursday was listening at the door when you and I were getting it on last night," Storm says to Rome, "and to top it off, the experience was so exciting for her that she wanted to know exactly what was being done, and to whom, that might explain the memorable never-been-heard-before sexual noises."

  India folds her arms, eases back and smiles at me. "Freaky, Thursday."

  "Stop calling me that," I say to India. I may have a little freak in me, but I don't care much for the label.

  "How much is it worth to you to find out," Rome asks me.

  "You guys must all attend the same church," I say, "because Storm asks me the exact same thing."

  "Well," Rome asks me again.

  "It's not worth anything to me," I say to Rome. "As a matter of fact, I really don't care what you were doing."

  Of course, I am lying when I say this, but what else can I do?

  I've been found out.

  "I think you do care," Rome insists.

  "If you're curious about what goes on in our room," India says, "then why not sleep in there and find out for yourself."

  Rome eyeballs me intensely, obviously waiting to see how I will respond.

  "Storm already made that suggestion, too."

  "And you agreed to it," Storm adds. "Tell them that."

  "Is that something that you might want to do," he asks me.

  I raise my shoulders, knowing that this is just a clever way for Rome to initiate me into his harem.

  "What's the worst that can happen anyway?" Rome asks me.

  Before I have a chance to answer, India says, "Oh, I know. Nothing."

  After a short silence, Storm asks me, "What's stopping you now?"

  I think about it, and I have nothing.

  It's obvious. I am all out of excuses.

  So here's what else I've learned about the living arrangements here at the House of Rome. First off, Rome, India, and Storm all sleep in the family sleeping room, no surprise there, in two queen-sized beds pushed together. In other words, they sleep in a sizable bed. Pink, red and purple Kenneth Cole linens are the only colors to grace his bed, not sure what that's all about. But what I find most interesting is that Rome requests that both India and Storm wear the same sleeping attire every night, which is a pink and white pajamas short set inscribed with the words The House of Rome.

  With my back against my headboard, I outline what is to be an NC-17 rated crazy love story that is anything but common.

  As I lay out my story characters, I smile to myself. Initially, I planned to just move in and observe, from a distance. But, somehow, I am embarking on going full swing, in other words, downright participating, and for what? Just to gather enough information for a good story. I am not worried that anything inappropriate will happen by sleeping in the family sleeping room. However, it does bother me that I am doing something that from the onset, I absolutely objected to.

  Have I signed up to be a part of his harem and don't even know it?

  To sort things through, I pick up my phone and call my sister, Kirby.

  "Well. It's official," I say to Kirby.

  "What's official?"

  "I have almost officially joined Rome's harem," I say to her.

  "Really?" my sister asks, seemingly amused.

  "Well, I have not officially joined his harem, but I am getting close."

  "How close?"

  "Since I have been living here, I have been sleeping in my own room, in my own bed, however, I have agreed to join them in the family sleeping room, maybe as soon as tonight or tomorrow."

  I can only imagine Kirby's eyes smiling with curiosity.

  "So, all four of you are going to sleep in the same bed?"

  "All four of us," I say, "and to be honest with you, I am a little intrigued by the whole scenario. It could be a lot of fun."

  "It also could be a lot kinky as well," Kirby says. "Are you sure there won't be any sex happening in that room? Because if so, I want a front-row seat."

  "No, I can assure you. There will be no sexual happenings in that room, at least not if I have anything to say about it."

  "Thursday," Kirby says as if to garner my undivided attention.

  "Yes."

  "I'm afraid I have some bad news for you," Kirby says to me.

  "What?" I am now completely rattled.

  "I know you don't want to hear this, but I wouldn't be a true sister if I didn't tell you."

  Apprehensive, I hold my breath. "What is it?"

  "Remember how you said you had almost officially joined his harem?"

  "Yes."

  "Well, you can remove the word almost. You're already in."

  Staring at the wall in front of me, I'm all nerves when I end my call with my sister, Kirby.

  How dare she say such a thing?

  What does she know anyway? So what? She's my sister and has known me all my life?

  But at the end of the day, what is that really worth?

  Storm, India, Rome and I all flock inside Rome's shiny white Jeep Renegade. Storm and I ride in the back while Rome drives. India sits across from him, her hand on his lap. We are on our way to purchase an even bigger bed, if at all possible, as our new bed will now sleep four instead of three.

  The song Renegades by X Ambassadors plays through the surround-sound stereo. It's an energetic song that I liken to the experience of traveling through space, remembering only the best moments of my life.

  While in the midst of savoring the euphoric sounds X Ambassadors, India says, "I dreamed I had sex with seven different men last night and didn't use any protection."

  Storm laughs.

  "Do you think it means anything?" India questions. "Supposedly all dreams have hidden meanings?"

  "Of course, it means something," Storm says. "You're a slut but only in your dreams."

  "I am not," India says in her defense. "Besides, it was just a dream." India turns to Rome. "Right, Rome?"

  "Wrong," Rome says. "Dreaming about sex with several men is fine, but dreaming about sex
with no protection, that's going too far."

  "It was just a dream," India protests.

  "Dream or not," Rome says, "next time, you have one of those kinky dreams, you use protection."

  I'm shaking my head again and scratching my scalp. It's the only thing I can do to try and make sense of Rome's unbelievable request. "So, let me get this straight," I say to Rome. "She can't even dream of having sex without protection?"

  "That's right," Rome says. "She knows better."

  "Well, all righty then." I leave it at that as I have nothing more to say.

  Rome pulls into the parking lot of Made for the Queen, an elite mattress showroom for people who were born to overspend. Always a gentleman, Rome opens the door for us, first Storm and me, then India from the front seat. He then surprises me when he pops the trunk and pulls out a fluffy blanket and three pillows.

  "What's the blanket for?" I ask Rome.

  "Test drive for the new mattress."

  I'm not even sure what that means but I'm sure I'm about to find out.

  As we head inside, Storm and India trudge alongside Rome, Rome firmly in between them, while India holds on to his arm as if they are an exclusive item. I tag along behind the trio, not more than eight feet, observing and constantly amused by the unique arrangement.

  When we step into the air-conditioned mattress showroom, a tiny gentleman wearing a knee-length dress and yellow-tinted sunglasses, greets us with tiny cups of what appears to be either some type of juice or tea. Needless to say, we all accept. I have been offered beverages before as part of my shopping experience and every time it happens, I appreciate it even more.

  This bright and huge factory-like outlet is rich with the scent of freshly baked cookies, which I find strange as there is not a cookie in sight. Even still, I find my appetite surging.

  We all quickly disperse in different directions, except for India, who is still connected to Rome's hip.

  In search of two comfortable king-size beds, I glance at the price tags and discover that this is definitely a place for the rich as not one mattress is priced for less than $5,000. Along with their high-priced mattresses, they also sell herbal teas, hot chocolate and an array of books on the subject of coveting a perfect night's sleep.