Page 10 of The Ground Beneath Our Feet
Spinning around so she was facing me, her green eyes flashed. “Don’t give me that shit. You can’t just fuck me and then tell me no more.”
“We’ve been broken up for a long time, and you know it. We don’t work together. We never did.”
That was the truth. We never did. We didn’t want the same things. She liked foreign movies and arguing about politics—cerebral stuff. While I was no dummy, I preferred corporal stuff. I’d rather work out or eat a good meal. I loved bodies and action. Movement.
And I didn’t want her.
Daintily putting one foot into one red, high-heeled shoe, then the other, Cherry straightened her hair, and looked in the mirror. With a practiced movement, she reapplied her dark lipstick, which stood out from her pale, freckled skin. I stood up and came over behind her. Her eyes locked on mine.
“Mikey. You’re a son of a bitch. And you’re no longer my son of a bitch. I’m glad we were together, because I learned a lot. But I think I’m even gladder to be rid of you.”
With that, she pecked me on the cheek and sashayed out of the room and out of my life. My dog made a low growl as she walked downstairs, and I heard her slam the door.
I sat on the bed.
Why on Earth did I just do that?
Because I wanted to do better.
I lay back and looked at the ceiling. Hadn’t I been punished enough?
I’d better just get cleaned up.
Grabbing a shirt, pants, and boxer briefs, I strode into the hallway bathroom, my gray cat Schmedley sidling behind me. He liked water for some reason. Weirdo. I reached into the claw foot bathtub to turn on the shower. While it warmed, he balanced on the edge, stuck his white paw under the faucet, got it wet, licked it, then hopped off and meowed down the hall.
Again, weirdo. But I shouldn’t judge. I liked to balance and jump off things too.
The water took forever to heat up. Old house. But once it was hot, I stepped in, the wet feeling good on my muscles. I’d put in a particularly hard workout the night before, so I was sore. Curtains circled the whole tub, so when I took a shower, I looked like I was in a Donald Duck cartoon.
As I sudsed up my torso, I found myself replaying the whole day so far. It was really funny in a gallows-humor sort of way. I had the day from hell at work. My booty call ended up in a break up. And my roommate’s first impression of me was in the buff.
I knew how to live, that was for sure.
With a squirt, I put shampoo in my hair and washed it. Then I washed my tattooed biceps, my arms, my muscular legs, and all over my body.
But thinking about my new roommate? That got a reaction in my dick. As I washed off all of Cherry, all of my day, all of my soreness, I found myself thinking about the body of Jessica Torres.
What a surprise. When she’d said she was an attorney, I’d thought driven bitch from hell. Wouldn’t take no for an answer. And would likely leave me alone because she’d be working eighty hours a week.
I wasn’t expecting a sensual, curvy goddess.
I loved bigger girls. I hated even calling them that. I mean, don’t get me wrong, slim porn stars and supermodels will do it for me, too. But I loved the way real women looked—ones who weren’t Photoshopped in pictures and made up to look perfect. Give me opulent tits and full asses. Hot, thick thighs that I could bury my face in.
My hand, scarred from my workouts and my veterinary practice, found my dick.
After a few strokes with the suds from Dove soap, my erection, which had deflated while I dealt with Cherry, now strained hard, veins popping. While I hadn’t released with her, it didn’t mean I didn’t want to.
My body now clean from the shower, my life free from my ex—yet again—I focused on this new vision. A girl so voluptuous and timid, she’d never let me touch her. A mouth so full, I was dying to kiss it—or feel it on me.
“Oh God,” I moaned, as I stroked harder, pulling at the barbells in my nipple piercings, one at a time. I could barely stand it. I was at that edge, that tipping point before you fall into an orgasm. Harder, faster, I pulled, until, “Fuck yeah,” I grunted, as I came, finally, the face of my new roommate all that I could see.
