Page 5 of Up in Flames

First off, I thought she’d be an easy lay. Someone I could bring back to the apartment, fuck, then ditch. But she’s different.

Something about her screamed of innocence, and her demeanor and sass caught me off guard. So, I fixed her ridiculously named car and returned to my apartment to forget.

I was pretty sure I’d seen her vehicle before—it’s not common—so I had a feeling she lived in the same apartment building as me. When she pulled into the parking garage, it was my opportunity to tease her a little. She’s so fucking feisty it had my balls aching. I wanted to slam her against the concrete pillar and ram my cock into her so hard and fast she would see stars, but unfortunately, I have things that need doing, and that woman doesn’t seem the type to be in for a quick fuck and flee. I’m sure she would want to make love in a bed and cuddle afterward—definitelynotmy thing.

The elevator opens on my level, and I step out and walk down the short hall to my door. Water is still dripping from my fingers, and it lines the floor as I step inside and make my way to the living room. The sounds of the usual sports on the television are playing loudly. Soccer would be my guess—it’s Rodberg, my roommate’s go-to.

I’ve known him for four years, and he’s been a pain in my ass the entire time. He latched onto me from the moment he came into my life and has been more of an annoyance than a friend ever since.

No, not really. But the guy is, let’s just say…interesting.

Rounding the corner, I step into my spacious, well-kept living room. I like order and cleanliness.

Everything must be balanced in my life.

Everything must be in its place.

Everything is masculine, including my black leather sofas, and the furnishings, which suit me perfectly, are either silver or black.

Cheering erupts from the television, and Rodberg leaps up from the sofa wearing only his tight white briefs. His toned, black and gray tattooed body starts jumping from foot to foot. “Goooaaal!”

Rolling my eyes, I shake my arms, trying to rid myself of some of the water residue. Rodberg takes off running around the living room like the fuckingMad Hatterwith his hands in the air, waving them about like an idiot. Groaning in annoyance, I roll my eyes when he spots me.

He stops and smirks while looking me up and down. “Wow! Either you got stuck in the rain, or you got some pussy really, really wet,” he jokes.

Turning my lip up at his crude joke, I shake my head and pull my shirt up my body, but it sticks as I try to remove it. “I helped a woman with her broken down car in the rain.”

Rodberg’s eyes light up, and he grins wide. “And by help, you mean…” He brings his arms to his sides and starts thrusting back and forth in motion with his hips while waggling his eyebrows.

Scrunching my wet shirt into a ball, I throw it at his head when I finally get it off. He laughs and catches it, throwing it down onto my sofa. I cringe but let it go, knowing that the sofa is leather and the water won’t damage the upholstery.He’s lucky. Usually, I’d kick his ass, but right now, I need to change so we can get going.

“Not everything is about fucking, you idiot,” I scold and turn toward my bedroom.

He scoffs, pushing my shirt off the sofa, then throws himself over the back, landing on the cushions in a perfectly lying-down position. “Like hell, it isn’t! And that can only mean one thing… she turned you down. Sucks to be you. Your dick’s wet, but you didn’t get your dick wet. Damn shame that.”

“Shut up and get dressed. We have to go in.” I look down at the gold ‘B’ ring on my left hand and twist it slightly as I head to my room.

The thunderous racket of running footsteps makes its way down the hall behind me as Rodberg runs to his room like the damn child he is while I walk into my en suite. Pulling off the rest of my drenched clothes, I grab a towel from the rack and pat myself dry. I don’t have time for a shower, so this will have to suffice. Once dry, I get dressed and walk back out to the living room, where I notice Rodberg’s dressed and waiting, which is unusual for him.

This idiot only gets dressed when absolutely necessary.

One of the many things about him I find more than a little annoying.

“Honestly, you’d think with it being a holiday, they’d give us the night off,” he whines, and I snort.

“This is when everyone’s with their families, so we can sort the real deal from the part-timers. Those who show up today are the ones who mean business, Rodberg,” I reply, and he nods, finally with a serious look.

“Yeah, okay, that makes sense. Let’s get going then. They better have fucking turkey stuffing for me, that’s all I’m sayin’.”

Shaking my head with a roll of my eyes, I grab my keys with a quick slap over his head and walk out of the apartment and down toward the elevator with Rodberg in tow. Stepping in, I instantly think of Makaylie, the innocent woman who shared this elevator with me not that long ago. And as we pass level seven, I try not to think about all the things I could do to her.

I met the woman for only a moment, and already she’s fucking with my thoughts. Thisdoesn’thappen to me. Womendon’tget inside me—in my brain. I hardly remember their damn names, let alone think of them again after I see them.

The elevator dings, we enter the parking garage, and I walk over to my Chevy Impala. The shiny black paint sparkles even in the dim lights, and I grin while looking at my beast of a car.

Rodberg bobs his head at the car. “Can I drive?”

Raising my brow, I turn up my lip in a snarl. “Have Ieverlet you drive?”

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