Page 64 of The Ground Beneath Our Feet
When I walked in the door that night, the smell of garlic, onions, and oregano hit me, whetting my dormant appetite. Mikey’s marinara, my favorite.
I took off my jacket and looked around the clean living room. I dropped some food in the fish tank, set my purse on the end table I’d designated as mine, hung up my jacket in the closet under the stairs, and headed into the kitchen with confidence. I finally got home to see him, and after all of our weeks of teasing touches and today’s sexting, I was ready for him, but also nervous.
What would it be like to face him after what we’d done?
I lingered in the doorway.
Mikey stood in the kitchen stirring the pot. His head came up, and he slowly turned. With a smirk and a gleam in his eyes, I knew I was a goner.
That had happened a long time ago, actually.
He dropped the wooden spoon, turned off the burner, and stalked to me like a predator who’d glimpsed his prey.
All bets were off now.
“Hi,” I said.
He leaned down, put his finger under my chin, and lifted it up, staring at me, scanning my face. Then he bit his lower lip, let it go, and his full, handsome lips came towards mine. He captured my mouth, owning it, claiming it as his. He nipped, sucked, teased me to open my mouth with his tongue, which tasted like basil and tomato, but oh so good.
When he gripped me behind the head to deepen the kiss, he grabbed my ass, and I exhaled. Now he really invaded, angling my head to take my mouth in a tangle of tongue and moans, my hands running all over his arms and wrapping around his neck.
We broke apart.
“You’re my roommate,” I blurted.
“Yeah,” he said, knowing that I was stating the obvious.
“You’re a manwhore.”
“Have been, yeah.”
“We shouldn’t do this.”
“No?” he asked, and leaned forward, looking me closely in the eyes. God he was beautiful. “That’s where you’re wrong.” And he started kissing my neck, warm mouth on my skin, making me get all swoony-swooshy inside. They started out tender, then got rougher, gruffer, as he claimed my skin.
I’d never been kissed the way Mikey kissed me. I’d always wanted someone to kiss me breathless. Mikey did, gripping my lower back with his gentle hands, pulling me firmly into him.
I broke apart and stared at him.
It was awkward.
We’re roommates.
“We shouldn’t do this,” I muttered again, against his ear as he sucked on my neck.
“No,” he agreed, “it’s a very, very bad idea.”
“Very, very bad,” I repeated, now feeling him harden.
“Terrible,” he said, his hands reaching down to my ass and yanking me to him, his lips way down my neck, almost to my shoulders, moving aside my V-neck.
“Awful,” I agreed, as I reached down and grasped his hard cock through his pants and he groaned.
“Bad ideas rule the world.”
“Just because it’s a bad idea doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do it.”
“Absolutely correct.”
