She had the whole studious-student get up going. Basic jeans, simple top. Cardigan and the glasses perched atop her head. He had the feeling she maybe needed them for reading, instead of for walking around and shit. The damned things would likely give him sexy librarian fantasies.
Stop with the fantasies.
Problem was, once his brain had already started on that line of thinking, he couldn't help it. Those tits of hers were hard to hide under the soft cotton fabric. Seriously though, how the hell was he supposed to focus?
One of the boxes tipped over, and he caught it just before the contents came spilling out. When he looked inside, he grinned. "Oh my God, is this what I think it is?"
She flushed and made to grab it, but he quickly snatched it out of her reach and kept digging through the box. "Is this Maximum Death? Oh my God. Tell me this isn’t Marked for Death?"
Natalie folded her arms right under that impressive chest. "So? I like bad action movies. When I need to unwind and relax and get my mind off of whatever is bothering me, I watch one of those because they're just so absurd. Are you judging me now?"
"Are you kidding? I love action movies. Pretty much anything with an explosion or gunfight, and I'm happy." She narrowed her eyes as if she wasn't sure if he is making fun of her not. He continued and teased her. "Matter-of-fact, I'm not even sure that you’re a real fan."
"Are you insane? Anything with Van Damme or Segal, and I'm there. I love the ones when you know, the lone random guy goes to some country, usually China, and the locals take him in, and teach him their secret arts, and then he becomes the great white hope. They're so bad."
Trevor chuckled. "Ahh, I see my new roommate likes the classics."
"Is there really any other way to go?"
He helped her drag the last of her boxes into her bedroom. He was pretty much ready to leave her to sort things out. But then her gaze flickered to his chest again, and Trevor couldn't help the smirk that played across his lips.
She shifted her gaze away quickly. "Uhm, I'm sorry, but you mind putting on a shirt? It's a little distracting."
Distracting? So she liked what she saw. Not that it should matter to you, because you can't have her. His dick had other ideas about that. But he wasn't listening to his dick right now, even if he wanted to.
"I have a list of house rules. Actually only one really; 'My house my rules.' Feel free to walk around shirtless yourself. I promise you, I won't mind."
Okay perfect, he was being a dick to his new roommate. But the frustration was already eating at him. Just knowing that he was going to be living with her was gnawing at his control. Which was even more annoying.
He was that guy, the one who never let anything slip. Never had one toe out of line, never once slipped up. Oh, he had fun. But he kept lines nice and clear, with good, proper boundaries so there was never any confusion or question later.
Doing the kind of things that were running through his mind with his roommate would result in all kinds of blurry gray lines. And he didn't like that.
"So, I just have to deal?" she asked.
He nodded. "Yep. Welcome to the neighborhood, roomie." And then he got the hell out of Dodge. One more minute closed in her bedroom with her, and his dick was going to start taking over his mind.
And that would be a very, very bad thing.
Three
Natalie stared at the search results for the best local bars and hangout spots. The last thing on earth she wanted to do was to go out to a bar by herself. But as she was in a new city, with no friends of her own just yet, she had no choice but to put herself out there.
She peered at the list of places. The three that were closest to the apartment were all highly rated by sassy-looking twenty-something women saying things like, ‘Great drinks! Awesome music. Cute bartenders.’ Natalie couldn't be mad at cute bartenders could she?
The problem was, the more she stared at the listings, the more her anxiety threatened to take over. Not that she was anti-people or extremely shy--okay, maybe she was a little shy. But this was fine. She could do this. It was more that she was walking into a brand-new situation and she didn't know how to go about it. For a long time, she'd depended so much on her ex, Brian, but she hadn't even realized it.
Her friends had been his friends. From the time they met, they just about did everything together. So for a long time, she’d never had to experience anything new alone. And that was bad.
Get off your ass, put on some skinny jeans and a cleavage-baring top, and go. Yes. Sexy top, check. Skinny jeans, check. Heels that she only ever wore to go out, check. Makeup done, hair fluffed.
When she looked at herself in the mirror, she barely recognized herself. She hardly ever wore her contacts. But going out with glasses was never something she enjoyed. And glasses often got in the way of kissing. Not that she planned to make out with anyone, but still. There was always hope. Is there really?
She shoved aside that thought. She was trying new things. And that meant going out on her own. It meant meeting new people.
With her clutch in hand, she walked the three blocks to the bar. Thankfully it was still late summer, so the evening was balmy and warm, the last vestiges of the August heat holding on tightly and refusing to give way to fall.
When she walked up to the bar, the guy at the door immediately stuck his palm out for her ID.
Even though she was twenty-one, she was well aware that she looked about sixteen. She handed it over gladly, and peered inside. As promised, the bar was hopping. But it wasn't too crowded yet since it was only about 7:30. She'd missed most of the happy hour crowd, and it was still too early for the pregame crowd. But there were people dancing, friends crowded around tables and laughing. And from the brightly colored drink concoctions in front of people, it looked like the cocktails were flowing. She took her ID back from the bouncer at the door, and he gave her a wide smile.
"Have fun." His eyes crinkled at the corners, and she realized that he had a nice smile. Then he winked at her. It was hard not to wonder how many pretty girls he'd winked at so far since his shift started.
"I think I will."
She opened the door and glanced around, looking for a table. She didn't want to look like too much of a loser by taking one of the big tables by herself, so instead she opted to meander toward the bar and was quite happy to find a barstool open near the end.
The girl she sat next to smiled at her warmly. "You need to try the watermelon martini. It's awesome."
Natalie grinned at her. "Thanks. I think I will. She glanced down the bar and searched for a bartender. There were two of them. One was shorter and stockier, with a sleeve of tattoos peeking out from under his short sleeve shirt. He had hands like meat cleavers. But even with his thick fingers, he handled each of the drinks delicately. The other one was tall. Very tall. Broad shoulders. She could see a tattoo or two peeking out from his short sleeve shirt. He also made her mouth water a little, and she hadn't even seen his face. Yeah, but you've seen what those jeans do for his ass, and ... Yeah okay. No way a guy looked like that from the back and wasn't hot from the front. That would just be some sort of cruel, karmic joke.
The stocky guy caught her eye first and came down to her end of the bar. "What can I get you, beautiful?"
Natalie grinned at him. "Whatever in the world that watermelon thing is."
"You got it." When he went to grab a glass, the other bartender turned around, and Natalie's heart caught in her throat. Oh, shit. Trevor. Of course that would be Trevor. Because apparently she couldn't get away from him, his abs, that smile, and Jesus Christ, those eyes. Were green eyes that color even natural? It would really help if she thought they were contacts or something.
At the other end of the bar, he smiled and flirted with some other girl. Blonde. Of course, he probably preferred blondes. Which was just fine by her. Not that she cared.
As if he could feel her gaze on him, his head swiveled and their eyes met. He blinked in surprise, and a small smile tugged
at his lips. Oh great. Now, it would be awkward. Like he would be forced to talk to her or something. She mustered a light wave, and he nodded then turned to the other bartender and said something in his ear. The guy's gaze immediately flickered over to her, then back to Trevor. Then he shrugged. He handed the drink he was making over to Trevor.
What in the world was happening? A few minutes later, Trevor sauntered down to her end of the bar. "Here's your drink. I call it the Ladies’ Orgasm."
The corners of her lips twitched. "Are you sure that's what it's called?"
He grinned. "I had it made for you special."
She glared at it. "But I really wanted the watermelon drink."
"If it makes you feel better, I put watermelon liqueur in it." He grinned. "Try it. If you don't like it, I'll bring you the drink on the menu."
Natalie eyed the concoction, not sure if she should trust him or not. But when she took a sip, she had to admit it was delicious. Problem was, she couldn't taste the alcohol at all. Which worried her. Because that meant she would more than likely have one hell of a hangover tomorrow. "You're right. It's good."
He winked at her. "You can say I know my way around a woman's orgasm." And then he sauntered off.
Jackass. He was incorrigible. He was deliberately teasing her. Trying hard to be outrageous. Well, it would take a lot more of these drinks for her to sweat.
The girl on the stool next to her leaned over. "Oh my God, you have the bartender flirting with you and making personalized drinks? You're a girl I definitely need to know. I'm Lila."
Natalie stuck out her hand. "Natalie. Nice to meet you."
For the next twenty minutes, as she sipped her drink, her new friend introduced her to everyone she was with. And just like that, Natalie had a hodgepodge group of people that she sort of knew.
The next drink Trevor brought over was called a Lick and a Promise. Again, she couldn't taste the alcohol at all. Jesus, how was he making these drinks? But again, she sipped happily as she chatted with her new friends. The alcohol loosened her up so she wasn't her usual shy and uptight self.
The next drink he brought her, he called a Dick Lick. At this point, she was pretty sure he was making up the names. But Lila assured her that those were real drinks.
After the third sexually suggestive drink he brought over, she was getting loose. Happy.
From the end of the bar as he made drinks, she could always feel Trevor kind of checking in on her. Occasionally nodding with his eyebrows raised as if to ask if she was okay. She returned the looks with a happy smile. She wished she could pretend she wasn't attracted to him. But honestly, who wouldn't be attracted to him?
He had the face of a freaking model. And the body of, well, it was better if she didn't think about his body. But too late. There it was. The throbbing between her thighs that had started the second he'd opened the door shirtless refused to go away.
It looked like her battery-operated boyfriend was going to be getting a hell of a lot of use this year.
She had a feeling that with a face like that, he slept with a lot of girls. He probably didn't keep too many of them around for very long. Plus, they all probably looked like models, not hyper-nerdy psychology students.
One of Lila's friends, Matt, asked her to dance, and usually, she would've said no. But she was already feeling all the good vibes from the alcohol, so she said yes. It was some kind of hip-hop mix, with totally recognizable radio tracks. And she loved it.
Well, she loved it at first.
Everything was going great. She even had a little rhythm. She wouldn't be in a music video or anything, but she could stay on beat. And she didn't look like an awkward chicken flailing her arms everywhere. Everything was great until Matt started to slide his hand over her hips to her ass. She shifted out of his grip and shook her head.
"Easy on the hands."
"Well how else do you expect to dance?"
"We've been doing just fine without your hands on my ass."
From her peripheral vision, she could see Trevor watching them, his gaze boring in on the side of her face. Matt tried to pull her closer again and leaned his face in. But she just moved back, wanting out of his reach.
"Dude, still too close."
He threw his hands up. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're the one who's been drunk and flirting with me all night."
Had she been flirting with him? She was so out of practice. She thought she was just being nice. "You know what, I think I'm done."
But before she could get away, he snapped his hand around her wrist and tried to pull her back. "No, I think we should finish the dance."
She tugged her wrist loose and rubbed it gently where he'd gripped too hard. "And I said no thank you."
She turned to move back through the crowd, but her face planted into a rock hard chest. Irritated, she craned her head up to find Trevor standing there with a scowl on his face. He was glaring directly at Matt.
"That's enough. Door's that way. You should probably hit the skids."
Matt frowned. "What the fuck? She was the one that was grinding all over me."
Trevor shook his head. "From the looks of it, she doesn't feel like dancing anymore. Time for you to take the hint."
Matt glared at her, but he eventually just flipped her off and headed back through the crowd toward the door.
"Thanks for that. But you didn't need to."
"Yeah, I did. If the bouncers had come over, it would've been a whole thing. You okay?"
"Yeah. I'm fine. I guess maybe I was flirting with him. I think I had too much to drink."
His lips tipped into a wry smile. "Actually, I've been sending you virgin drinks all night."
Natalie blinked up at him. "What? Those drinks were all virgin?"
He nodded and shrugged. "Well, I didn't see you come in with any friends. So I was looking out for you."
A hot wash of embarrassment flooded over her. "So, I have been flirting with him and just chatting away like an idiot? And I can't even blame alcohol? Great."
"I don't see what you're so upset about. You seemed perfectly fine. And I wanted to make sure that your inhibitions stayed intact. You don't seem the type to go to a bar by yourself."
"What? So you think you were helping me?"
"Yeah. I'm your roommate. I was just trying to look out for you."
Natalie couldn't believe it. More than anything, the embarrassment was going to kill her. She shoved away from him. "I'm going home." She heard him call her name, but she just grabbed her purse and headed straight for the door. Maybe this whole ‘making friends and trying new things’ idea had been a mistake.
By then her feet were killing her, so she just took a cab three blocks back to the apartment. Within thirty minutes, she had her makeup off and was in her comfy pajamas, snuggled in her bed. She was still awake when Trevor came home an hour later, and she lay perfectly still.
She told herself she wasn't listening to see if he'd come home with anyone. After all, that was none of her business. But she was lying to herself. She was desperate to know.
And she was still stinging from the embarrassment of how she'd acted tonight. The one thing that struck her though, was that she'd been perfectly chatty and friendly without the assistance of alcohol. As a psychology student, she knew the effect well; the placebo effect. She'd thought she had a little alcoholic assistance, so she’d felt more comfortable. But it was still embarrassing to know what he'd done.
Within ten minutes she heard Trevor's shower going, and she tried to relax and force herself to sleep. Tomorrow was another day. But that's when she heard it. The moan.
The long, slow, drawn out sound that made her clit pulse. The kind of sound that guys made when they were—oh my God. Had he actually brought someone home after all? No. She would've heard it. So what was he doing in there?
Never mind. It didn't take a genius to figure it out as she heard his low, soft curse. He was—uh—taking care of business. But the real question was, just
who was he thinking about?
Just what the hell was so funny?
Trevor paced back and forth in the kitchen. Originally he’d come in here to get a cup of coffee that he hoped would keep him awake. He’d worked late the prior night and had almost overslept this morning for class. But all the fatigue he’d been fighting all day evaporated when he saw Natalie with that guy. Alex, she'd called him.
She’d brought a guy home.
Why does it matter? Trevor gritted his teeth. It shouldn’t make a damn bit of difference who she brought home. But somehow it did. Over the last week, he’d been in a state of constant anxiety. As much as he tried to avoid her, Natalie was everywhere.
Her strawberries and cream scent was in every room. Her shoes were by the front door, kicked off casually next to his favorite pair of hiking boots. Her ass was right there, in criminally tight jeans, whenever he came out of his room. The shower had become his only refuge, and he’d resorted to jacking off several times each night just to take the edge off.
Not that it helped. Natalie was there, too. She’d left a bottle of her shampoo under the sink next to his bar soap the last time her water had run cold. Thanks to the addition done on this unit ten years ago, the two bathrooms ran on different water lines.
On the ledge of the tub she’d placed her travel bottle of shower gel which he’d discovered with delight was the source of her mouth-watering scent.
And yes, he’d jacked off while smelling it. Don’t judge.
More laughter floated in from the living room, and Trevor couldn’t take it anymore. His jealousy was foolish, he knew that. His rational mind even knew that Natalie probably wasn’t trying to tease him by wearing such tight jeans and smelling so edible. But on another level, he suspected she knew exactly what she did to him with those shy smiles and longing glances of hers. Oh yes, he’d caught her staring many times. She might pretend to be innocent, but the little vixen knew she was driving him insane and enjoyed it.
Well, no more.
Bad Roommate Page 2