Good Girl : An Enemies-to-Lovers, Roommate Romance (Alphahole Roommates Book 2), page 28
“I think you know that’s not my style.”
Too true.
“Well, have a safe flight home,” I say.
“I’ll call you once I speak with her again. We had a quick phone call, but I’ll visit her when I get back and appeal to her to visit a doctor and speak with her lawyers if she hasn’t already done that.”
“Bye, Mother.”
I get off the call and resist the urge to call my sister, it’s way too early there, so instead, I stare out the window at the traffic. And it’s irritating.
I’ve done audits, fired the people responsible, and today I’m teleconferencing with a couple people from head office to talk about a reorg. Then I’ll have human resources help me recruit replacements and additional staff so I can get the office ship-shape. So I can go home.
A vision of a sleeping Jada assaults my mind with a stab of regret. She lives here. I live there. And my life is complicated as fuck. What’s she gonna do when I leave? Where’s she gonna live? Work? How will she support herself? I haven’t asked her about her brother either, how things are going with him being in jail.
I feel like a shithead.
I am a shithead. But I’ve justified that to myself. Not feeling so justified right now though.
Last night was good. Damn good. And it was what I needed. I wanted to keep it strictly games, but after her reaction at the window, I decided fuck it. No sex games. Just sex.
But it didn’t feel like just sex.
I have to remember it’s in my best interests to keep this thing with her uncomplicated because of how convoluted my life is right now. I shouldn’t have spent the night in her bed. I shouldn’t have kissed her goodbye this morning. I need to back this up to casual, unemotional, uncomplicated.
39
Jada
My heart is racing, absolutely galloping like the running of the bulls is happening in my chest when I hear keys go into the door. I make a mad dash for the bathroom.
I’ve already turned the hall light on to draw more attention to what I’m doing. I’m crouched over the tub, my butt up in the air, yellow rubber gloves on with a sponge in my hand.
I hear keys hit the counter, hear what I’m sure is his stuff being hung over the coatrack, and then footsteps approach.
And they stop.
I lean over a little more, grunting with effort as I spray some bathroom cleaner on the tiled wall.
“Well, well, well,” I hear in a deep, husky voice.
My heart skips a beat.
It’s five twenty. He didn’t work late today. So far, he doesn’t seem to work late on Fridays and once came home early, so I’ve been on pins and needles all afternoon waiting for this.
I’m pretending to clean the already clean bathroom (I cleaned it properly this morning), while wearing a skirt.
I don’t have all my clothes here yet; I got a number for my brother’s friend Sedge and texted him. He was out of town but told me there was no rush for me to get my and Shane’s stuff out of the storage unit. That said, I want my stuff. But I did have a jean skirt here, so that’s what I have on. A short, frayed jean skirt and an off the shoulder slouchy black top with a black bra. My hair is up in a top knot and I’m wearing makeup.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Groucho, sir,” I say softly, my voice a little shaky. I dare to look over my shoulder.
He’s leaned against the doorframe with his arms folded across his chest. He’s wearing jeans, sneakers, and a grey Henley style hoodie with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows as well as an expression that makes my heart play hopscotch.
Austin Groucho the Third looks totally edible. He didn’t shave today and he had a five o’clock shadow yesterday, so today he’s got sexy scruff. His hair falls into his blue eyes a little. They look extra blue right now. Is that because of the lust? Because he’s definitely looking at me with lust in his eyes.
I moisten my lips with my tongue.
“Would you like me to do something for you, sir, or should I resume cleaning this… very, very dirty tub?”
My eyes bounce to the vanity where I’ve intentionally left a condom. And then I watch as his eyes move there, too.
And then Austin Groucho The Third Carmichael straightens up and grabs for the fly of his jeans and this has the magical effect of further soaking the gusset of my undies.
“Looks like you’re done. Are you done?”
“I… think it might still be a little… dirty.”
“Keep where you are with your belly over the ledge of that tub, Miss. Sweetheart, I need to do an inspection.”
The sponge and cleaner tumble into the tub as my hands grip the ledge. My eyes take him in as his shirt flies up over his head. His fingers then finish undoing his fly and he moves closer.
I pull the gloves off, their rubbery smell turning my stomach a little.
“Eyes forward,” Austin orders.
My gaze snaps forward and I stare at the pretty brushed silver, bronze, and white leaf mosaic tile pattern.
His hands are on my outer thighs. They slide up, taking my skirt up a little. It’s too tight to go up much further, but he finds the side zip and pulls it down, then my skirt comes down and off.
I go down a little with it, my knees landing on the thick bathmat.
“Hold onto that ledge,” he orders gruffly and immediately I grasp it with both hands as the skirt is presumably tossed aside.
He chuckles and snaps the waistband of the purple thong I’m wearing. I squeak in surprise as a smile spreads across my face.
“I approve of these panties,” he tells me.
“I hoped you would, sir,” I whisper. “I wore them for you.”
I fetched these from my bedroom floor where he dropped them. I did my laundry today and put them on just an hour ago. I did this when they were fresh from the dryer and still hot. This was directly after a long shower and painstaking time spent grooming my lady-bits, which the hot undies made me extra aware of.
He makes a rumbling sound that I think means approval and then there’s the tension of him pulling the fabric back against my core. He lets go, making it snap against my skin again, making me jolt. Austin’s finger follows the straight line of the spandex down the crack of my bottom, down some more and I tighten and tense as the finger slides under the elastic and then down my asshole and finds its way to my sopping wet pussy. His finger dips in and out briefly before it stops on my clit.
His warm breath is now in my ear and he makes a vibrating sound of approval at finding me so wet.
“Open your knees wider,” he orders.
I shuffle my legs apart a little bit, feeling a little friction on my knees from the bathmat.
Austin’s finger slides in and out and I feel the loss of the heat at his back and a hand on my left butt cheek, opening me up.
“Inspection time,” he says and I’m ridiculously self-conscious because he’s pushed me forward and up slightly so I’m over the side of the tub and I know he’s looking between my legs from behind. As his fingers prod, I feel my legs go even wider, and then I’m hiked up a little more so I’m balancing on my belly across the side of the tub. I’m dangling over the tub now, but his hands are on me, holding me from doing a face-plant into the porcelain.
“I wonder if the master bathroom is more suitable for this inspection,” he muses. “Have you cleaned in there yet today?”
“Yes, sir,” I whisper.
“Hm. Let’s go see. I’m mostly satisfied with my inspection of this bathroom. Let’s check the other one.”
“Mostly?” I query.
I’m suddenly up in the air, being thrown over his shoulder. I squeak.
I’m naked from the waist down only and being carried down the hall.
He thrusts his fingers into my sopping wet folds as he makes his way into the master bedroom, and then I’m in the same position over the other tub and it’s definitely taller and larger so more suitable for this deliciously dirty scene we’re acting out.
“Stay perfectly still. This is a very important inspection.”
I wait. I hear the foil packet and then I feel something between my legs. This time, though, it’s not his fingers I feel. It’s something with more girth. Much more.
He slides into me.
“That shampoo bottle… it’s filthy,” he reprimands. “Look at it.”
I look at the bottle of shampoo on the shelf and see one drip of blue shampoo just below the cap.
“Oh no. I’m so sorry, sir.”
A clap rings between my legs and I jolt. He’s just slapped my clit. While his cock is inside me.
“Holy fuck,” I breathe.
“Naughty girl.” he tsks and then does it again. “I’m not sure I approve of you cussing.”
I yelp and then my eyes roll back. He’s fully seated and just stays there. His lips are on my neck.
“Are you gonna make me scrub the tub while you do this?” I ask, breathless.
“I should. You’ve done a terrible job cleaning this bathtub, Miss Sweetheart.”
“I’m so s-sorry it’s not to your liking, Mister Groucho.”
Phew. I’m panting.
“You should be sorry,” he growls into my ear, then he slowly pulls almost all the way out of me. It’s so slow it’s like torture, because it feels like he’s pulling away, ending before we fully get started, but just before he’s entirely out, he grabs my hips with both hands and slams in.
“Bad girl,” he grits.
I fly forward, completely dangling over the tub, feeling all the blood rush to my head.
He pulls back out and then he’s slamming in again.
I whimper.
It goes on for three or four more strokes and then Austin whispers, “This can’t be comfortable for you.”
It’s not comfortable on my belly or my hips, they might even be bruising, but it feels pretty amazing in other parts. He pulls out, grabs me, and then pulls me into the separate shower next to the tub.
“Did I pass inspection?” I ask, winded.
“The tub did not, but you? A+, Miss Sweetheart,” he says with a bright white smile that’s contagious. “But I’m not done with you quite yet.”
He strips, then strips my shirt and bra off me, and tosses them out of the shower, kicks his jeans and underwear out, and then the water is turned on as he walks forward, backing me into the silver tiled wall, which is heating up nicely as the water comes down. I’m lifted up by my hips with my back still against the wall and my arms and legs go around him.
“Like a capuchin,” he mutters against my lips before his tongue dips in and he tastes me.
“Capuchin? Are you calling me a monkey?” I ask.
He laughs against my lips and my insides heat up because being in his arms, wrapped around him under a waterfall showerhead with my back against the wall and now with his hard cock sliding back inside me as he continues chuckling - this is a great, great feeling.
“Yeah, I am. You had me in bed this morning the same; I was late for work because you wouldn’t let go.”
Something sharp but then beautiful bursts inside me. I think it’s euphoria. I grabbed onto him like that and he didn’t just leave? He let me? He was late for work because of it?
I look into his eyes and get lost in them as I grab his jaw with both hands and now I’m taking from him. I squeeze my inner walls tight around his cock while I lick at his tongue. He makes a sound of approval and drives up harder into me.
Hard, deep, delicious.
He fucks me against that shower wall like a man possessed, like a man who wants to leave marks. And I think he has.
But I love it.
The elastic slides out of my hair, making it tumble down, getting saturated by the shower before he grabs the length into his right fist. His left hand is under my ass, holding me against the wall while his cock slides in and out of me.
Slow. Deep. Perfect.
He releases my hair to expertly tease a nipple, then his fingers find their way between us. We both look down and watch his fingers play with my clit while his cock slides in and out of me. It feels like I could live in here, live off this. I could thrive under the gaze and touch of this man, this gorgeous man, just here in this glass and silver-tiled alcove.
I’m ready to come apart again. I’m close. So close.
“Yeah, baby.” He reads my reaction and increases the friction between my legs with his fingers but yet slowing the roll of his hips. I hit it and cry into his shoulder. He does not let up as I shudder, crying hard and loud into it, thinking about how I’m impaled on him, how he’s holding me, how he’s making me feel such bliss.
He comes, groaning as I feel his knees wobble for a second, and then he uses my hair to pull my head out of the crook of his neck and plunders my mouth with his before he slides out.
He blows out a breath and sets me on my feet before I watch him pull the condom off. My knees are so weak I have to sit down on the bench, watching him leave the shower to ditch the condom in the trash before he wraps a towel around his waist and grabs two more big, fluffy white towels from the rack. As I reach up and turn the water off, the shower door opens.
“Up,” he orders, so I stand and then I’m wrapped with the towel and then he’s got the other one on my head, gently drying my hair, then my legs and arms. I just stand there smiling, letting him do that, watching him do it with a look of focus on his face. Our eyes meet and he doesn’t smile. My smile slips and I blink a couple times, trying to gauge what his expression means.
He lifts me up into his arms as if I’m a bride, his bride, and carries me to his bed.
I bite my lip when he stops and stares at me intently. I search his face questioningly, but then he releases me and I land on the bed. I actually bounce, losing my towel.
His serious face vanishes as he laughs.
I laugh too.
And then I whack him in the side of the head with a pillow and he totters before he tackles me to the bed and kisses me again.
“What’s for dinner?” he asks after a heavy make-out session.
“I don’t know. What are you cooking for me?” I ask.
He blinks in surprise.
“I forgot to cook dinner,” I admit. “I was so focused on waiting for you to come home after work and being in the perfect position when you did.”
He busts up laughing, but then instantly sobers. “I guess I have a real reason to punish you now.”
I giggle.
His face splits into a smile as I bite my lip looking at him like I really wanna be punished.
“We have a lot of leftovers,” he says, “I’m sure we can find something.”
“Definitely.”
“Or, why don’t we go out?”
I smile. “Okay.”
He snuggles in and we lie there, both of us still sort of damp, lying on soggy towels, but I couldn’t care less. I’m lying here after some amazing shower sex and a fantasy come to life with Austin Carmichael after sleeping in his arms all night last night. And then he dried me off, caring for me in a super-sweet and bossy-hot way, and carried me to his bed. Okay, so he dropped me on it like a goofball, but now we’re going out to dinner.
I like that he’s got his serious side, a playful side, and that he’s kind of kinky, too.
I hear the sound of a phone ringing. It’s not mine.
He groans and gets out of bed. “That’s me. One sec.” He wanders out of the room naked. God, he has a tight, sexy butt.
40
Austin
I know by the long number string on my phone that it’s Meryl’s call I missed. I sent her an email this morning from the office. It’s Friday night here, Saturday morning there, and I want to get this done so I can get back to Jada.
It’d just stopped ringing by the time I got to it, so I head back to the bedroom with my phone and throw on a pair of jeans.
I’m not looking forward to this call, but it’s a necessity and for the greater good.
Jada comes out of the bathroom, still wrapped in a towel, and smiling while eye-fucking me as her eyes travel up and down my body.
“Turns out I need to make an international work call. I won’t be long.”
“You want leftovers? We have-”
“We’ll go out. Know any good pizza places around here?”
“Definitely.”
“Give me ten or fifteen and we’ll go.”
“Sounds good. I’ll go dry my hair.”
“Kiss me,” I demand.
She gets on her tiptoes and drops a kiss on my lips. I grab the back of her head and deepen it.
She sighs and melts into me.
This girl is into me in a big way and I can’t help but dig it.
As she leaves, my mood drops. Am I fucking up here by letting this go on with her? Or should I just let things happen organically and see where they go?
It’s the weekend and I have no plans other than this phone call I have to take care of. Should I spend the weekend with her and see how it goes? Decide if I want to pull back or pursue something bigger with her? Or should I pull back now and make sure this stays casual? My head’s a little fucked up over everything going on and it’s not helping, having to call Meryl back. I came home planning to play it cool with Jada, thinking I should make sure things didn’t get too carried away after last night, but how could I play it cool coming in to a fantasy on a silver platter?
I sit in the chair by the bed and put my feet up, aiming my eyes at the view while phoning Meryl back.
“Hello?”
“Meryl, it’s Austin Carmichael,” I say, all-business.
“Hi Austin,” she says softly, not a shred of business.
And now there’s weighty silence.
I blow out a breath. “Listen, I’m sorry I was a dick at Aiden’s wedding.”
“I’m sorry Nate was like he was, too. I’m sorry if… if I upset you by coming.”
“Carly invited you, you had every right to be there.”
She doesn’t reply.
“So…” I finally say, “I have a job opportunity to discuss with you.”
“A job?”
“I know you quit because of circumstances, and I just heard that you lost your father. First, please accept my condolences. I had no idea.”
