My Side Page 8


I wasn’t sure that was accurate. He probably didn’t even have to talk. Had he kissed me in the kitchen, I would have done it. I would have leapt into his strong arms and let him have me on the counter.


I held the condensation-covered bottle to my forehead and took deep breaths. I grabbed my phone and emailed Tom to see how the apartment hunting was going. Lochlan and I had been roommates for a couple weeks, and I was ready to do things I hadn’t done in a long time. Things I hadn’t ever done with someone I barely knew.


Within minutes I noticed a difference in the temperature in my room. The air felt new and clean again, instead of tasting the way I imagined he did, heady and salty.


He leaned in my doorframe, “Told you.”


I sighed, “Yup. I guess being a country bumpkin is good for something.”


He folded his arms, “You think you got me pegged, don’t you?”


I laughed, “That display in the kitchen, pegged you. You could try not to drag me into your perversions and overly fluffed ego, and I might not think so little of you.”


He walked into my bedroom and sat backwards in the chair at my desk. He sipped his beer.


I had to force my eyes not to even try to peek at his boxers in the moonlight, “This is a bad idea.”


He frowned, “What is?”


I pointed at him, “Me and you living together. A single guy and a single girl cannot be roommates and friends. I’m pretty sure Harvard has done studies on this.”


He leaned forward, “Can’t keep it in your pants, princess?”


I sipped my lemonade, “Oh, I can.”


He grinned, “Wanna make a wager on it?”


My gaze narrowed, “What kind?”


“The kind where whoever gives in to the obvious attraction between us, moves out.”


I laughed, “Done. Deal. Sold. You want to start packing now or wait till it’s light out.”


He chuckled, taking the last of the beer in a huge gulp, “You underestimate me.”


I shook my head, “I’m a grad student in law school. I have a 4.0 GPA and have only ever dated three guys in my life. I don’t drink much, never do drugs, don’t smoke, and eat clean, except when celebrities buy me lunch.” I leaned towards him, drank the last of my lemonade and passed him the bottle, “I am the queen of self-control.”


He swung his leg off the chair, moving fluidly to the floor and knelt in front of my bed. He grabbed my calves, dragging me down the bed so he was between my thighs. His eyes bore down on me as he licked his lips. He leaned forward like he might kiss me and whispered, “But the thing you’re forgetting is that I can have any girl I want, any time I want, any place I want. You, on the other hand, will be getting arthritis in your right hand from all the daydreaming you’re gonna do about me, while reading your books.” He winked and released me. I didn’t even realize my hands were digging into his round shoulders, instead of pushing him away. He laughed and left the room, again rising in a fluid motion.


I swallowed and made the weird sound again, “Wait.”


He popped back into the doorway, “Yes?”


“The deal needs to be stricter then. No sex for either of us… with anyone.”


He looked down on me, “Including the Brothers of County Claire?”


I nodded.


He put a massive hand out. I hesitantly took it. My stomach ached from the thought of touching him. The air was too heavy. His body was too naked and mine was too horny.


He shook both our hands and then just stayed there like that, holding my hand.


“No sex, no masturbation, and no getting someone else to give you an orgasm?” he asked.


I frowned, “Ewww.”


He laughed but it wasn’t the amused one from earlier. It was tense like he might lie down on top of me any second. I hoped he would. I would get the nearly-pulsating orgasm that was sitting there about to happen from his touch. I honestly was probably about ten strokes away with my vibrator. I smiled imagining it, I would cum and he would get the boot for making the first move.


He looked like he was struggling with something and then let go of my hand. He pointed at me, “It’s on.”


I nodded, “Great.”


“Good.”


“Fine.”


“Excellent.”


All I could do was pray that Tom and Leslie came up with something before school started Monday. I didn’t need a distraction of this size.


Chapter Four


Kiss my Brazilian butt


I was curled up in the living room with Jane Austen’s Persuasion. Nothing cured my inability to control myself like Austen. Except suddenly, I was seeing so much more sexual tension than I ever had. I wasn’t sure if it was really there, or if I was so strung out, that I was putting it in the story.


“Reading again?”


I glanced up at him as he stalked into the room in body-hugging jeans and a tight tee shirt.


He sat with his legs wide, “Gerry said you’re coming tonight.”


I nodded, “Yup. Where am I going?”


He passed me a business card, stroking his fingers down mine as he passed it to me.


I laughed, mostly nervously. “You’re an idiot.”


He shrugged, “You want me.” I walked into the kitchen to get something cold. I was contemplating getting some ice to stick down my panties, when I felt him behind me. He stood too close when I opened the fridge. He bent his face into my nape, taking a long breath. “You smell like your run,” he muttered against my skin.


I couldn’t tell you what was in the fridge or if I was holding anything. I took a breath and closed my eyes, “This constitutes hitting on me.”


He licked up my neck, sending shivers everywhere, “You taste like your run.”


I shook my head, “You are going to lose if you touch me.”


He whispered, “We never said a single thing about touching. We said keeping our pants on. No flesh-to-flesh contact is what I understood it to be.”


I laughed and spun, looking up into his face, “So you want to play the who can be sexier game, with me?”


He grinned, “Yup.”


I frowned, “You’re going to lose. I’m a girl.”


He cocked his head, “You think women are sexier than men?”


Sarcasm filled my voice, “Uhhh, yeah. Way sexier.”


He arched an eyebrow, “Bring your A game tonight.” He bent, kissing my cheek softly.


I had felt his erection brushing against my ass cheek, so I did the boldest thing I could and lied to myself it was all in the pursuit of an apartment. I slid my hand down the bulge in his pants.


His jaw dropped. I stroked faster and tilted my head. He made a growling noise. I wiggled my eyebrows at him, “The sad thing is, I don’t even have to try to be sexy, you guys are so easy.” I gave him the wink he was always giving me and walked past him. My heart was beating and I felt like throwing up, but I maintained my cool.


He turned and left, “You’re gonna pay for that one, princess.”


I desperately prayed I would as I grabbed some ice to stuff in my drawers.


I wanted to curl back up with my book. Instead, I showered and let my white-blonde hair go into its natural curls. I bounced them, inspecting each one. They were wide and round. I had coated my hair with Aloe so I prayed it would stay frizz-free. I did my makeup far heavier than normal. Not that I’d worn it since I’d arrived, it had been too damned humid. I pulled on a black push-up bra and a pale-yellow tank top. My jean shorts were tight, showing my firm, runner’s ass off. It curved perfectly. They were the ones I was going to toss out because they didn’t fit anymore. Well, they fit tonight. I looked slutty but still not too trashy. This was as far as I went, into the realm of slut wear. My clothes were always the same. Winter was sweaters and jeans and summers was shorts and tee shirts. I didn’t do anything but respectable and casual. I knew as a lawyer, I would have to use my female wiles, thankfully I wasn’t a lawyer yet. I didn’t even know where my wiles were.


I gave myself a once over and slipped on some sandals. I grinned at my mace cock and put my forty dollars in the other pocket with my cell. I sent Gerry a message that I would be there in fifteen. It was only five blocks to the bar. The night was warm and alive. A few girls were walking in the same direction as me. Naturally we grouped up. One of them smiled, “Hey, you going to the Thin Ice show?”


I nodded.


She beamed, “We are too.”


I wasn’t one of the popular girls in school, being a pretty girl earned me tolerance. The mean girls accepted me into the parties, when they had to, but my people were the Star Trek nerds. I ran home everyday to watch it. Danny made fun of me for it, until he watched Doctor Who and decided science fiction was cool.


I smiled as I walked, thinking about Danny. I pulled my phone out and messaged him. He’d hardly messaged me since I’d arrived.


He was the popular one. Being Danny’s little sister afforded me far more tolerance than my looks.


When we arrived at the bar, the girl who had spoken to me waved as she went in, “Enjoy the show.”


I waved back, “You too.”


The bar was huge and open. The stage was actually kind of big, in comparison to the lame stage I imagined it would be. Gerry waved at me from the bar. I lit up instantly and walked over.


He plucked a curl, “I told you.”


I fingered a different curl, “It’s awesome. They feel so silky still.”


He pointed to me and shouted at the bar tender, “She drinks all night on our tab.”


I waved my hands in protest, “No, I can buy my own.”


A body pressed me into the bar from behind, “She drinks on us; she likes cranberry lemonade and red wine.”


The bartender looked at me expectantly. I sighed, “Red wine, please.”


He spoke quickly, “Shiraz is the house.”


“Perfect, thanks.” I looked back at Lochlan, “You think getting me drunk will help you win?”


He winked at me, “Nice bra.”

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