***
Bobby fucked me on the floor of my apartment like we were each other’s cure to the screwed-up world we live in. Our hands grabbed onto anything they could for friction and we clawed at each other’s shoulders from the immense pleasure, leaving marks all over one another. Not to mention we both have rug burns on our knees, elbows, and hips. I was positioned on top of Bobby, underneath, and even beside him. The entire time I was lost in Bobby, his hard breathing in my ear, the noises he made when he came inside me. They reached something deep inside of me, breaking the suppressed emotion I have tried to deny for so long. The smell of coconuts and leather emanating off Bobby was a comfort to my fear; it was my serenity and made terror obliterate into bliss and pure pleasure.
When I closed my eyes, all I thought about was Bobby, and when I opened them, all I saw was Bobby. Travis wasn’t even an ash in the inferno of raw emotion on the floor of my apartment. The torment of Travis, the fear of living for today, or the terror of yesterday was gone.
“Jessica,” Bobby whispers into my ear from behind me, his arms pulling my body into the curve of his.
“Yeah?” I whisper half asleep, my body and mind incapacitated from just having the most vigorous sex ever.
“You know, I would have loved taking you to a coffee shop,” he breathes out, brushing against the shell of my ear. My eyes open as I think about how much Shane complained about me taking us to a coffee shop.
“I’ve never gotten to take you anywhere, take you on a proper date.” Bobby’s hands run up and down my side as he speaks.
I turn my head just slightly, listening to him talk.
“I want to take you on a date, Jessica,” he whispers against my neck, brushing his tattooed knuckles on my cheek.
“Bobby,” I interject.
“Just let me take you on one,” he interrupts. One date. It reminds me of our first time, how he just wanted to take me on one ride. That night was the night I noticed myself becoming attached to Bobby. I was more than frightened by the feelings toward him. I was brutally terrified. I clench my eyes and sigh. It’s Bobby; he’ll probably take me to a BBQ, arcade place, or something for the club anyways. Harmless. But it wouldn’t matter where Bobby took me. I would enjoy it, and there lies the problem: I enjoy being with him.
“Okay,” I mutter mindlessly.
“Yeah?” he replies, lifting himself up from the floor to see my face, seemingly shocked by my lack of rejection.
“Just one. I don’t want to ruin what we have. Your life and mine are too different, too complex for us to mix, Bobby,” I mutter, adjusting my head on the small couch pillow that holds both mine and Bobby’s head.
“I hate to tell you this, but both of our lives are unconventional Jessica. That doesn’t mean our being together would be a bad thing,” he mumbles into the back of my neck, his breath tickling me.
I breathe deeply as his hands slide along the scars of my back tenderly, but my body doesn’t tense and my mind doesn’t flicker with distressed memories of what was. I smile, the feeling of Bobby’s fingers caressing my imperfection welcoming instead of suffocating. “Yeah. Maybe,” I whisper, closing my eyes to sleep. I knew this would happen and that both of us would break our own rules. The plan to distance ourselves going in the opposite direction. It was inevitable with the overwhelming hold we have on each other. It scares me that I may lose the only person in this world who could take what is left of my heart and burn it.
***
Waking up this morning, my body’s sore from the abuse Bobby so deliciously delivered last night. My hand swipes the hair from my face, a note sticking to my arm hitting me in the cheek. I pull the blue post-it note from my arm and look it over.
Be back – Sex God
“Sex God?” I laugh.
I stretch my arms and gaze around the room, finding my clothes slung all over the floor and the lamp knocked over. It got pretty wild last night. I walk to the bedroom and find some gym shorts and a white tank top, and put them on. I don’t want Addie to come in and see me naked. That would be an awkward conversation.
I am tying up my hair into a ponytail and the front door opens. Bobby walks in with a bag in his hand and a cup holder in the other with a couple of cups.
“Just for you,” he remarks, handing me a cup. I smile and take it, the sides of it warm against my palm. I hold it to my nose and inhale.
“Mmm. Coffee,” I respond, grateful.
Bobby smiles, revealing two sexy dimples in his cheeks and sets the bag down on the counter. He digs in his pocket and pulls his cell phone out that’s vibrating.
“Shit, I need to get to the club,” he whispers, stuffing it back in his pocket. He peers up under his thick lashes, and braces himself against the counter with both hands gripping the sides.