Page 9 of Run, Run, Roommates
For example, if I was a fiscally responsible adult, I could have decorated the apartment for the holidays. I could afford a big, beautiful, real tree and the lights to go on it instead of the crappy strands that may or may not light up every time I flick them on.
There’s no point in doing any of that, though. Bea is leaving for Christmas, spending the week in upstate New York with her family.
And Marco . . . well. Marco hates Christmas, which I can understand. It’s hard to celebrate a holiday when it reminds you of your brother’s death.
So it’s not worth it to decorate the apartment just for me. Not when I could be saving that money.
At least I have this scavenger hunt to look forward to.
And with that thought, I hop into the shower.
Living in such close quarters with a man is weird, but we make it work. Marco has a shelf of toiletries in the shower. I open his body wash and take a big sniff. I can tell it’s expensive just from its bottle, a simple black-and-white typography-heavy design.
It smells Christmassy. I check the label. Cedar and saffron. I guess it’s the cedar that I smell most.
Marco always smells good. I wouldn’t have said cedar, but more like a scent that’s just . . . him.
It’s most noticeable after his runs. Since mornings are when we are most likely to be home together, I usually see Marco when he gets home from running. He runs almost every day, often to a gym to lift weights and then back home, two workouts in one.
It took me about eight weeks after moving in with him to get my libido to calm down. Living with a really hot, pragmatic guy had taken some getting used to. I seriously had thought something was wrong with me, because I’d never had so many “sinful thoughts.” I wanted to hand him my life and let him tell me how to be an adult, while at the same time not wanting him to know how out of control things were. Men who have their shit together—and are kinda bossy about it—are my kink, apparently.
(Two years ago I would never have even wanted to think of the word kink. I mentally congratulate myself while I lather up my body wash.)
My attraction to Marco means I keep my vibrator well-hidden and take advantage of any alone time I have in the apartment.
And then my libido hit rock bottom after that disaster of a date from Sugary, and now I just don’t date. Period.
I wouldn’t even have a vibrator if it weren’t for Eva. She’s gifted me several in the time I’ve known her, which is the only reason I have one. Good girls do not have vibrators is the thought I have to push away every time I look at it.
But right now, I reach up onto my tippy toes and grab the removable showerhead. It’s definitely the best feature of this place. I’d never had one before, so the discovery that it worked even better than my vibrator was a pleasant surprise.
I put a foot up on the ledge of the tub and lean against the wall. Depending on where I am with my cycle, I either like the high-pressure setting or the pulse one. Today feels like a pulse one, and I aim the showerhead between my legs and close my eyes.
Dark brooding eyes and a tall runner’s build wait for me in my imagination.
5
Marco
I take the stairs two at a time up to our apartment. Bea’s at work, since this is the Friday before Christmas, but she’s leaving tonight.
Brin’s home though, and when I walk through the apartment, the shower is running. Last night we’d talked about her schedule and she’s babysitting this afternoon and working at the restaurant every night up to the twenty-third. Not ideal for the scavenger hunt, but since we have no idea what the tasks are and I have my days free, we’ll do the best we can.
I stand in the kitchen, chugging water and cooling off. I sprinted home, so I’m breathing hard and pacing the apartment when I hear a moan through the wall.
Skidding to a stop, I listen. Was that like an oh this hot water feels so good moan, or was it?—
I swallow thickly when she moans again. That was definitely a pending-orgasm moan.
Jesus.
In all our time living together, I’ve never heard her like this. My imagination is running wild right now.
Usually, I’m already running errands for William at this time or in morning meetings. Brin has the apartment to herself most days. But on this rare day off that I have, our schedule has collided in a way that’s going to fry my brain.
I’m hard and aching because it’s been at least a year since I’ve been with anyone—my last relationship was with a woman I’d met at one of William’s events and we were fuck buddies for a few months—and right now I have my extremely hot roommate pleasuring herself with one measly door between us.
Brin’s a great roommate. Neat and tidy, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t seen her dirty laundry, hang-drying lace underwear, or the vibrator she keeps in her nightstand.
