“Okay, it’s fine.” I stand up, lift the toilet lid, and am just shy of pushing her down and wiping her * when she looks at me oddly. “Shit, sorry. You go ahead.”
I walk out, hoping she scrubs herself good, getting rid of my load, leaving only the delicious taste inside.
I pace back and forth, running my hands through my hair, and wait until I hear the flush. When I walk back in, she is bare-assed and stepping in the tub. Her ass is fucking beautiful.
Looking at her, I watch as she glances over her shoulder at me, catching me squeezing myself, trying to avoid the hard-on I feel coming on fast.
“Sexy still?” she asks, seeking approval. That’s the third gut punch.
“Hell yes,” I say honestly, ‘cause that round ass is nothing but. “I’m gonna make breakfast—”
“Don’t worry about it,” she says as she sits down in my tub. “Don’t you have to open soon?”
She grabs my washcloth and washes her face.
“No. Jagger needed a shift, so I have the day free.”
“And night. It’s my—”
“Livi, I was serious about giving you some time off. You work forty hours a week, plus twenty-eight at the bar. That’s too much.”
“No, I need it.” She looks away, washing her arm. “I’m behind on a few things and have the car—”
I am sporting wood and need to get the fuck out of there, or I am gonna bruise her pretty little pink pot. “Need anything before I get out of here and make us some breakfast?”
“Did your friend call you about the keys? I need some, um,” she pauses and then whispers, “panties.”
I smile and nod. “I’ll call him. You enjoy your bath. Make sure you try to—”
“Hendrix?” Her eyes are wide.
“Sorry, you’re still damn sexy, Livi, with or without my sp—”
She chucks the wet washcloth at me, and we both laugh. “Out, you!”
I toss it back, walk out of my room, and want to bash my head against the wall. Hot sex, naked chick in my tub—scratch that, sexy, naked chick who I am digging in my tub—and I am worrying about one in the heat of the moment accident? Fuck, I am losing my shit.
I text my boy, finding out her keys are literally stuck. Shit’s frozen, and she won’t be getting them back for a day or so. That news makes my dick dance in my pants. Wonder if she’ll hang here until then? The car is cool for now. No tow. I just gotta find her spare.
By the time I scramble up some eggs, make some toast, squeeze some orange juice, she is still not out of the tub. I make her a plate and pace. It’s been a long time since I have felt this way. Fuck, who am I kidding? I have never felt this way.
I look at the clock to see it has been fifteen minutes. I grab her plate and walk up the stairs, thinking she can eat in bed. Hell, I’ll eat her while she eats in bed, maybe tongue out any remnants of my swimmers.
I stop when I hear her singing. She has this sweet voice that makes me stop and listen closer.
“Won’t let nobody hurt you. I’ll stand by you. So if you’re mad, get mad. Don’t hold it all inside. Come on and talk to me now...”
She isn’t singing loud, but the words to “I’ll Stand By You” by the Pretenders hold a deafening sound.
“Hey, what you got to hide? I get angry, too. Well, I’m a lot like you. When you’re at a crossroads and don’t know which path to choose, let me come along, ‘cause—”
Then I hear nothing.
I knock on the door and push it open then walk over to the tub. Her feet are on the edge, and her head is submerged with her eyes closed. When her lids open, she jumps up, splashing water everywhere.
“You scared the heck out of me,” she says as she holds her hand to her chest.
I keep my eyes on hers. “Sorry, you’ve been in here awhile.”
“Sorry, the water is just really warm.”
“All right, then.” I set the plate on the bathroom counter and try to come up with what to say next.
“Hey, man—whoa. Shit, it’s Livi.”
I look back, seeing Jagger heading out the door.
Livi and I have the same damn expression on our faces—shocked and holy shit—until she starts to laugh and snort then covers her mouth.
“Fuck,” I grumble and squeeze my eyes closed.
“I am so sorry,” she giggles. “I—”
“Don’t worry about it. Look, your keys are gonna take a while to get out. Anyone have a spare?”
“No,” she says, trying not to laugh, and I shake my head. “What a mess.”
“The entry door locked?”
“To my place?” She points to herself.
“Yeah.” I nod.
“If you jiggle it enough, you don’t need one.”
“Your spare set of keys to the car…?”
“On the table next to the door.” She starts to get out, so I grab her a towel.
“You stay here. It’s cold out. I’ll grab you some”—I pause and shake my head—“panties and clothes.”
“You can’t get in,” she says as she wraps the towel around her. “You gotta jiggle it just right.”
“I can.”
She remains hesitant and starts looking around, avoiding eye contact. I don’t give her a chance to talk me out of it or distract me, though. She’s always avoiding questions with more of her crazy.