“I’ll take funny.” I mutter turning the creature over in my hands and happy that she finally invited me to work over here. We left things tense. When I got her call my shoulders finally relaxed for the first time in three days.
Setting it down I head for the next room. “Kitchen in here?”
“Make yourself at home, Max!” she teases, following me. “You’re going to think I’m perfect if you keep walking around. We’re very tidy here.”
“It’s pretty bad,” I argue. “What, you didn’t want to leave one napkin out or something, just to appear somewhat normal? Didn’t think I’d get this far in, did you?”
“I didn’t care.”
Chuckling I check out her spotless sink and make a face like it’s disgusting. “There’s food crusted here.”
Natalie’s eyes widen as she crosses over to look. “There is not! You liar. I knew A.J. would never let that happen.”
Pausing at the name, I cock my head. “A.J. a guy or girl?”
She leans her hip on the counter, eyelashes flickering. “He’s a guy. I have a male roommate. Didn’t I tell you that?”
“Nope, you left that out of our many conversations.” I walk to the view. Lots of trees and rooftops of charming homes that this neighborhood is known for. And every night there’s some dude looking out this same window as Natalie walks around in those adorable fuzzy socks.
“You’re gnawing on your cheek again, Max.”
“Who is he?”
“A.J?” When I say nothing, keep staring at their view, she finally answers me. “He’s my roommate, that’s who he is. I just told you that.”
“Where’d you meet him?”
“Work.”
My head swings to her, remembering what Caden told me at dinner. “He’s a stripper?”
She takes the dishtowel off the refrigerator door and folds it. “Yes, he works at Swinging Richards.”
“He gay?”
“Would that calm you down if he was?”
“I’m totally calm.”
She tucks the towel back in place. “Your volume is normal but your tone could cut ice.”
“Bedroom back here?”
“Don’t.”
Feigning innocence I walk through a small hallway covered in black and white photographs. “You take these?”
“I wish,” she says, following me.
“This his room, or do you sleep in the same bed?”
She grabs my arm. “What are you doing?”
“Nothin.’”
Tilting her head she says, “Please don’t do this. I’m so happy you came over and I want to get to work. I haven’t done anything. We’re business partners, remember?”
“Are you sleeping with him, then? Is that what you’re telling me. That it’s cool you and your hot roommate are hooking up every night because you and I are just business partners?”
Crossing her arms, Natalie sighs. “I didn’t say he was hot.”
“You can’t be a male stripper and not be hot!”
Glancing to the floor she slides a fingernail along her bangs, thinking of what to say. “Okay, no, A.J. and I do not sleep together. We have separate rooms. But one time we did have sex and I’m only telling you that to be totally honest.”
The embers of jealousy I was feeling explode into a full blaze. Trying to hide it I cross my arms, too. “Really? That’s interesting. Huh.”
“Max…”
“You live with a guy you had sex with before. You still want him?”
“Stop it.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” We stare at each other. She’s getting mad, but I’m fine with that, because I’m pissed off. “Natalie, do you know how hard it’s been not to touch you? And all because of a professional relationship you want to have. Yet here you are living with someone you work with and you had sex with him?”
“That was almost six months ago, and it’s different.”
“How is it different?”
“Because it is! I was drunk, he was there, that’s all that happened!”
Sucking on my lips and nodding repeatedly like someone with a tic I glare at her because the thing is, he’s always here. Every night. Every morning. With her. And this whole time I’ve been in my loft thinking about her—they’ve been cooking meals together, watching TV, just like a couple.
“What an idiot I am,” I rasp, rubbing my face and blinking between the two bedroom doors. Like a shot I pull her to me and kiss her, cupping her head. She responds, arms wrapping around me as our mouths mold each other, jaws unlocking, tongues dancing like they missed this feeling. I know I did. Breaking free I search her confused eyes and growl, “If you’re going to live with him, I’m going to make you remember me.” I dive in for another deep kiss, length hardening with every moan that I inspire in her.
Me.
Not him.
I’m the one making her melt.
These are my arms.
My lips.
My fury.
One of my hands grips the small of her back, the other still holding her head. She’s mine, dammit. He can’t have her. “Which room is yours?”
Catching her breath she jogs her chin to the right. “That one.”
I swing the door open, pick her up and toss her on the bed. “Strip.”
Her eyelids drop, lips parted and moist as she unzips those black jeans, tugging them off, and her panties, while I watch. “Show me your cock,” she whispers, pulling the sweater over her head.
Kicking the door shut and my shoes off, I unzip my jeans, eyes locked on her. “I can’t believe you live with him, Natalie.”
“Max, don’t think about it like that.”
My cock bounces out and I catch it, give it a couple long strokes. “Up.” I crook my finger. “Hands against that wall.”
Natalie licks her lips and walks naked to it, slapping her hands next to a photo of her when she was younger with an orange-furred cat. She hikes her ass up, locking eyes with me over her shoulder. Shaking my head at how much I want her, and how fucked up this is, I walk over, stroking myself as I run one hand down her back. The beauty arches into it, pushing her ass up more, the best invitation, and the most painful. “Why didn’t you tell me about him?”
I give her cheek a slap, massage it in circles, then one more sting.
