Damn him and his beguiling personality. If he had been a hollow shell of a man, only supported by his unbelievably good looks, this would have been much easier. It would be easier to walk away and not look back. Easier to not think about what could have, would have, should have been.
I made quick work of washing all my nooks and crannies and shampooed and conditioned every strand of hair. Satisfied that I was clean enough, and that five minutes was a long enough shower during this heightened risk situation, I shut off the water and climbed out, wrapping the towel tight just above my breasts.
Glancing around the bathroom, I realized that, in my haste, I had made a rookie mistake. I didn’t bring any new clothes in with me.
Shit. Dizzle.
I cracked the door open, popped my head outside, and peaked around the corner, checking to see that Coleman was in the same position that I had left him.
After assessing carefully, allowing for slight changes in position due to shifting during sleep, I concluded that it was safe for me to make my way to my bag and grab clothes.
I had a knack for making more noise when I was actually trying to be quiet, so I made an effort to move with relatively normal speed and pacing as I went to my bag and grabbed it. I thought it would be quieter to get dressed in the bathroom, so armed with my stuff, I made my way back there and shut the door.
I pulled on fresh underwear, made a couple passes with the deodorant, ran a comb through my hair with a few cursory swipes, and pulled on my pants and shirt. Sitting on the toilet instead of attempting to balance, I pulled on my socks and boots, zipped up my bag, and crept back to the door.
I slung the bag over my shoulder and picked up my laptop, phone, and keys off of the dresser as I walked by. When I got to the door, I gave myself a few seconds to look at Coleman Cade and appreciate him for the perfect male specimen he was. I really hoped he found an amazing woman someday because he definitely deserved it.
After one last look, I opened the door, scooted out, and closed it behind me. Once it clicked shut, I breathed a deep sigh and turned, jogging down the outdoor breezeway to the stairs that led down to my car.
Approaching the driver’s door, I rearranged my stuff in my arms, reached into my pocket to grab my keys, pulled them out, unlocked the doors, and yanked my door open. I tossed my bag into the passenger seat, set my laptop on the center console, and fumbled to get to the key for the ignition.
What the hell?
As I thumbed through the stuff on my keychain, I realized that the most important thing, the freaking key to the car, was missing.
Just then I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, a strange occurrence since no one knew how to contact me, and reached in to grab it. I pulled it out and swiped the screen, only to see the screen lit up with a text message.
From: <3 Boyfriend’s Cell <3
Sorry, Banty. Nice try.
PS- Stop running away.
That son of a bitch had stolen my key, programmed my phone with a ridiculous entry for his number, and freaking tricked me, pretending to be asleep the whole time.
After brief contemplation of whether I could somehow figure out how to hot wire my car or not, I huffed a sigh of frustration and charged full steam back upstairs to our room, prepared to give Coleman hell.
When I got to the door, I raised my fist, intent on pounding the chipped paint-covered surface while visualizing his face. But alas, he couldn’t even give me that satisfaction as he whipped open the door preemptively, a sexy grin bringing the right half of his mouth upward.
Opening his arms wide, inviting me in for a hug, he bellowed, “Banty baby! So good to see you!”
“Cut the crap, Asshole, and give me my key back!”
His mouth dropped open and his face took on an aura of disbelief. His eyes still held humor, but his words said something else. “I’m the asshole? Really Roni?” Shaking his head he took a breath before continuing, “I’m not the one who was gonna take off and leave without a goddamn word. You were gonna leave me stranded here for God’s sake! So, no Roni, I’m pretty sure I’m not the asshole here.”
His words stung because he was right, but rather than let it sink in I tried to use it to my advantage. “You’re right. I’m an asshole. Which is why I’ll drop you off wherever you wanna go, and we’ll part ways. You don’t need someone in your life like me.”
He burst out laughing.
What. The. Freaking. Hell?
“Um, what the hell are you laughing at?”
“Oh Banty baby, you’re so cute.”
What? Was he on drugs?
Shaking his head slightly and biting his lip, a smile still consuming his face, he continued, “Baby, no real asshole would admit to being an asshole. Therefore, it’s obvious your asshole exterior is just a front. You try so hard, but you’re not foolin’ me. It’s cute, actually.”
My brain could hardly keep up with his rationale, so I gave up on trying. “You are the weirdest freaking guy I’ve ever met.”
“Right back at you. Except, you know, a woman.”
We stared at each other for a few tense seconds before a serious expression washed over his face and he murmured, “However, all that said, I doubt I would have found it nearly as cute if I hadn’t caught you.”
I didn’t doubt that even a little. I had just figured I’d be gone and wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences.
“Why are you pushing so much to keep spending time with me when I clearly keep trying to get away?”
Instead of answering my question, he sighed and questioned me, “Why are you making this such a big damn deal? Just relax, enjoy my company, and have some fuckin’ fun! Christ, stop thinkin’ so hard, Roni.”
I fought to keep my exterior neutral, but my brain was screaming at him in shouty capital letters, “BECAUSE I’M ALREADY RELAXING AND ENJOYING YOUR COMPANY TOO DAMN MUCH!”
On the inside I was panting, gasping for air as if I’d just run a marathon, but on the outside I just raised a shoulder in a shrug and pushed by him to enter the room.
When I got a few steps in, I spun around to the sound of him clicking the door closed and flipping the lock. I raised my eyebrows in question.
Grinning like a kid, he muttered, “Just in case.”
I barked a harsh laugh before bursting his bubble. “You do know that the lock is on this side of the door, and I can just unlock it...right?”
My words had little effect on him, his grin staying firmly in place as he answered, “It’s at least one more step you have to go through. Buys me just a little bit of time, Banty.”
Rolling my eyes, I flopped back on the bed with a muted thump of the mattress and squeak of the box spring, throwing my arm over my eyes as a defense mechanism and letting out a deep sigh.
I couldn’t see Coleman, but I could hear his chuckles just before I felt his breath directly on the skin of my ear. Before I could react he whispered, “Oh come on...I’m not that bad, am I?”
His fresh scent enveloped me and a shiver wracked my body while the distinct thought of, “No, he’s that freaking good,” went fluttering through my head. And maybe it fluttered through little Roni too.
I tried to suppress my arousal and protect myself by rolling away, but before I had the chance, I found myself pinned to the bed by the heavy weight of Coleman’s body.
Moving my arm and cracking an eye open only to find his face not even an inch in front of mine, I stated something I had been noticing about him. “You freaking touch me like you’ve known me forever.”
Mindful of the fact that he was right in my face, he breathed out in a whisper, “That’s because you have very inviting qualities.”
There was no way I could get up and an argument was futile, so all there was left to do was question his meaning. “Inviting qualities?”
He nodded his head, his nose just barely skimming mine in the process, and another shiver wracked my body as he added words of explanation. “Yeah. You’re cute, your curves are soft and lush to to
uch, and you’re not particularly smelly. In fact, you smell pretty fuckin’ good.”
The tip of his tongue eased out of his mouth and just touched the pink of my lips before he added, “Edible almost.”
Shitdizzle. I had a feeling I was in trouble. My lips hadn’t even tried to get away from his tongue. In fact, I’m pretty sure they had even puckered in an effort to make it easier for him.
“Can you get off of me?” I breathed, my tone in no way convincing.
He pretended to think about it for a second before answering, “Nah. I’m pretty good right here. I think I’ll stay just like this until you give me a good reason not to.”
“How about I maim your manhood? Would that be a good enough reason?”
He chuckled. Chuckled! Apparently, he didn’t take my threat very seriously. “Oh Banty baby, I love it when you get feisty.”
While I had just threatened his manhood, I was a little hesitant to actually do anything to it. You know, just in case it turned out I wanted it. And I kinda felt like it would be a shame to ruin something so beautiful. But I really did need to get control of the situation. So I settled for a purple nurple instead, grabbing his nipple and twisting it into submission.
“Ouch, ouch, ouch!” he squealed as he pushed off of me and jumped off the bed. “You’re cruel, Banty!”
I raised an eyebrow, not in question but in defiance, at the same time that he requested, “I think you should kiss it and make it better. And I tell you what...Since I’m such a nice guy, I’ll kiss yours and make them better too. I’m that generous.”
“You’re something alright.”
His answering smile was absolutely blinding. Looking at it, taking it in, and actually letting myself feel what I was feeling right in that moment, I couldn’t help but answer his smile with one of my own.
I guess I could call the way we interacted whatever I wanted, but regardless of what I wanted to believe, it felt good. So unbelievably good. I actually felt alive. Happy even.
Maybe I needed to just ride the wave while it lasted. I was pretty sure that I couldn’t maintain this forever without some sort of explosion of epic emotional proportions, but for now, it felt incredible. For now, I could pretend this was the only thing going on in my life and just enjoy it. Enjoy him.
Ah shit. Alright. “Alright. You win. I’ll stop trying to ditch you and just have fun.” The look on my face and tone of my voice made it look and sound like this was not only not enjoyable, it was possibly the worst form of torture I would ever experience. Just like always, Coleman didn’t even bother to take offense.
He closed the distance between us, tucked my hair behind my ear, and placed a soft kiss right on the apple of my cheek. He straightened and leaned away, but I could have sworn I could still feel his lips right there on my cheek. “Finally. I’m glad you came to that conclusion on your own, Banty.”
I was a little surprised it even mattered what I did. He had made it clear he was willing to put in how ever much effort it took to keep me around.
“Don’t get me wrong, I was going to make sure you stayed with me no matter what, but this will make things easier.”
Okay, so I was right. It didn’t matter what I did.
My heart was beating really fast with him this close, especially when he leaned back in so that he could whisper right into my ear, the air from his breath tickling my skin. “I’ll make sure I make it enjoyable enough to take that pained look off of your face. And then some.”
I had sworn I wouldn’t go there with the “and then some” he just promised, but sweet Lord, my body had different ideas. Very different ideas.
If the erotic dreams and his constant touching continued, I didn’t know how long I would be able to avoid real physical contact.
As if he could read my mind, or maybe he could just smell my freaking arousal, he placed a small kiss just under my ear, pulled back from me, sauntered toward the bathroom, reached between his shoulder blades and pulled his shirt over his head, and then shoved his jeans down off of his hips. This revealed not only the deep tan skin of his back and his tattoo, but the very top of his very round, very tight, very perfect ass. He didn’t even glance back before he went in the bathroom and turned on the water of the shower. I could hear the curtain rustle, followed by the sounds of him climbing inside, and it was clear he hadn’t even bothered to close the door.
That clever bastard.
He wanted me picturing him in there, all soapy and wet, and by God, he was succeeding. As much as I tried to fight the images, they came at me fast, and they came at me hard. Maybe if my mind hadn’t already been filled with sex I could have pushed it away. But the combination of my raunchy mind and the sounds amplified by the open door made thinking of something else impossible.
My legs took on a life of their own and moved me toward the open bathroom door. Dear God, I knew this would be a mistake. I did. I mean how could it not be? But my legs just wouldn’t stop walking.
When I got to the open door and glanced up, what my eyes saw in the mirror stopped me dead in my freaking tracks.
Ho-ly shitdizzle.
I mean...Shit.
Ah.
What was I saying?
I had totally lost the ability to think, function...breathe.
Through the clear shower curtain reflected in the mirror, I could see Coleman, one of his strong arms stretched out in front of him, his hand resting on the tile. His beautiful eyes were closed tight, his head hanging down, and his other hand was wrapped around a very large, very hard, very perfect part of his anatomy, stroking.
Sweet Mary, mother, Jesus, and Joseph. And any other higher power I could reach out to.
Not only were my cobweb-filled lady parts squeezing, my heart was too. He teased and he prodded me, but he still totally respected my issues. Last night he had slept in the bed with me, and he’d done just as he promised, behaving himself and keeping a distance. We woke up close, but it’s natural to drift toward another body’s heat in your sleep. And just now he had flirted relentlessly with me, teased me just a little, but when it really counted he backed off and opted to take care of his needs himself.
God, he was a good guy. I mean, in reality, this is how guys should be. But in the past few years I had encountered so many men who just tried to take what they wanted when I wouldn’t give it to them that this was super refreshing.
And yet, here I was, wishing I was the one stroking him instead. Wishing that maybe he wasn’t respecting me so much.
It was official. My mind was one twisted clusterfuck of thoughts.
This is why men think women are crazy. Because we freaking are!
I was an emotional mess. And physically, I was still standing there watching him run his hand up and down, his face closed tight in an expression that was the epitome of pleasure.
The sound of a phone ringing suddenly broke into my thoughts and forced my legs to move away from the open door- and the promise of all that was Coleman Cade.
Approaching Coleman’s phone on the nightstand, my eyes drifted to the screen in order to see who was calling.
I didn’t know why I did it, it didn’t make any sense, and it was arguably a pretty crappy violation of privacy and trust on my part. But I looked anyway, and I managed to put a lid on any guilt I might have considered having by thinking of what Coleman had done to me that morning.
He had obviously gone through my phone, so I might as well return the favor.
Oh. And I had just been watching him jack off. His phone was the lesser of the two privacy violations.
When I got a good look at the screen and saw that it said “CJ” another bout of craziness crashed over me, and I reached out to answer it. I was pretty sure somebody was going to need to commit me.
Ever so cautiously, the phone pressed tightly to my ear, I muttered, “Hello?”
“Um....Roni?” was CJ’s bewildered answer.
“That’s me.”
Surprisingly, raucous laughter filled my ear. This
went on for several seconds while I just waited and listened. When he got himself under control I asked, “What’s so funny, CJ?” My voice was laced with a little attitude, but it was shockingly less than normal.
Answering quickly, with absolutely zero hesitation, he said, “I’m just impressed. I figured you would have ditched him by now.”
“I tried and failed,” I grumbled in response, and that sent him into more peels of intense laughter.
I could hear rustling and shuffling, the sounds of him attempting to cover the mouthpiece, followed by his words that I would guess were directed at Nan. “Yeah, she’s on the phone right now....I know....I know, I really thought she would have lost him by now. I’m impressed.”
Tired of listening to his side conversation about me, I barked, “Earth to CJ! I’m still on the phone, you little creep. And I can hear you talking about me.”
“Right. Sorry, Roni,” he placated me. I could tell by the tone of his voice he wasn’t sorry at all.
When neither of us made any moves to carry on our own conversation, he went ahead and asked the obvious question. “So, um, where is my dad?”
“He’s in the shower,” I answered nonchalantly, as though I answered Coleman’s phone and told people he was in the shower everyday.
“He was in the shower. Now he’s watching you, my sneaky little Banty rooster.”
The sound of Coleman’s voice from directly behind me had me whipping around and screaming, dropping his phone to the ground in the process.
He was extremely close and he was wearing only a towel, rivulets of water cascading down a few places on his chest. Perhaps he had done a quick and sloppy job of drying off when he heard what I was up to out here. Whatever the cause, I couldn’t seem to focus anywhere else.
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