“Yes, I have a washer. This way.”
His apartment is definitely nicer than mine. His bathroom has a small space set back in the wall, which holds a stacked washer and dryer. I’d love if I didn’t have to drag my clothes downstairs to the communal laundry room. Because I’m made of evil with whipped cream frosting, I start stripping right there.
“What’re you doing ?” he demands, whirling away.
“Washing my things. Do you have anything you want me to add? It seems like a waste to run the machine for four items.”
“I’ll get my laundry basket.” He sounds strangled. “And I’ll bring you something to put on.”
“Appreciate it,” I say cheerfully.
So I’m literally standing naked in Jesse’s bathroom when his arm reaches around the corner. He’s holding a white V-neck T-shirt and a pair of boxers. I scramble into them, then I step out, so he can add his clothes to the washer. This outfit’s not exactly modest. You can see the points of my nipples and the fly gaps when I walk.
“I should get you a robe. Dammit . I don’t own one. I’ll go to the store.”
I laugh. “Now you’re being silly. I’ll wrap up in a blanket in the living room. It’ll be fine.”
“No, it won’t,” he mutters. “You’re wearing my clothes.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. You don’t need any hints on how to drive me crazy.”
Ignoring my offer of help, he aims me at the couch and whips up a quick meal. The chicken and rice is fancier than I’d have made, though it’s not haute cuisine. It’s also really good. He turns on the news as we eat, and I have the thought that I’d be so happy if this was my real life. I mean, not necessarily wearing his underwear every night, but curling up with Jesse, eating dinner?
God, yes. Please.
After dinner, he dumps the plates in the sink and joins me on the couch. It’s just past nine by now, not early enough for bed, and I have no idea what he’s thinking. With a sigh, Jesse wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“Don’t be nervous, Shan. I won’t do anything. I was an asshole to treat you like I did in the car.”
I laugh. “Seriously? You think that’s why I’m uptight?”
“No?”
“In my mind, that’s the best move you’ve made where I’m concerned, and certainly the most honest. And now you’re back to being the good guy, the one with perfect manners. I’m afraid you’ll raise up the walls between us and I’ll have to start all over again.” I pause, wondering if I should say this. “I don’t know if I have the energy. I mean, I want you. I’ve made no secret of it. But I won’t chase you forever.”
“Is that an ultimatum?” He sounds coldly furious.
I’m a little proud of myself. I didn’t know it was possible to make Jesse angry so fast. “Just a fact. In time, I’ll move on, find someone who wants me more.”
Rage bludgeons me. For the second time tonight, he loses control and his emotions hit me like a hammer. It’s a mad wash of fury, jealousy, frustration, and a hint of possession that thrills me to my core. He might be struggling, but he doesn’t take me lightly.
“That would be impossible,” he growls.
I never imagined he’d be so intense; he projects such casual charm. Most likely, other women couldn’t handle it, so he hides. He pretends to be gentle and tender, no darker feelings, no obsessive tendencies. He’s been playing that violin so long, it’s become the only tune he knows. But I don’t just want his sweetness.
I want everything.
“Tell me about her,” I say then.
“Who?” I’ve surprised him.
“The girl who made you like this. Before, you said you haven’t felt this way since high school. I’m guessing it didn’t end well.”
“It never does.”
I stare at him until he shifts uneasily. Then he pushes out a sigh of mingled annoyance and capitulation. “You want to know how it goes, sugar? I’m a black hole. I want and need and I devour their feelings, until they’re empty, too. Nobody
His apartment is definitely nicer than mine. His bathroom has a small space set back in the wall, which holds a stacked washer and dryer. I’d love if I didn’t have to drag my clothes downstairs to the communal laundry room. Because I’m made of evil with whipped cream frosting, I start stripping right there.
“What’re you doing ?” he demands, whirling away.
“Washing my things. Do you have anything you want me to add? It seems like a waste to run the machine for four items.”
“I’ll get my laundry basket.” He sounds strangled. “And I’ll bring you something to put on.”
“Appreciate it,” I say cheerfully.
So I’m literally standing naked in Jesse’s bathroom when his arm reaches around the corner. He’s holding a white V-neck T-shirt and a pair of boxers. I scramble into them, then I step out, so he can add his clothes to the washer. This outfit’s not exactly modest. You can see the points of my nipples and the fly gaps when I walk.
“I should get you a robe. Dammit . I don’t own one. I’ll go to the store.”
I laugh. “Now you’re being silly. I’ll wrap up in a blanket in the living room. It’ll be fine.”
“No, it won’t,” he mutters. “You’re wearing my clothes.”
“Huh?”
“Never mind. You don’t need any hints on how to drive me crazy.”
Ignoring my offer of help, he aims me at the couch and whips up a quick meal. The chicken and rice is fancier than I’d have made, though it’s not haute cuisine. It’s also really good. He turns on the news as we eat, and I have the thought that I’d be so happy if this was my real life. I mean, not necessarily wearing his underwear every night, but curling up with Jesse, eating dinner?
God, yes. Please.
After dinner, he dumps the plates in the sink and joins me on the couch. It’s just past nine by now, not early enough for bed, and I have no idea what he’s thinking. With a sigh, Jesse wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“Don’t be nervous, Shan. I won’t do anything. I was an asshole to treat you like I did in the car.”
I laugh. “Seriously? You think that’s why I’m uptight?”
“No?”
“In my mind, that’s the best move you’ve made where I’m concerned, and certainly the most honest. And now you’re back to being the good guy, the one with perfect manners. I’m afraid you’ll raise up the walls between us and I’ll have to start all over again.” I pause, wondering if I should say this. “I don’t know if I have the energy. I mean, I want you. I’ve made no secret of it. But I won’t chase you forever.”
“Is that an ultimatum?” He sounds coldly furious.
I’m a little proud of myself. I didn’t know it was possible to make Jesse angry so fast. “Just a fact. In time, I’ll move on, find someone who wants me more.”
Rage bludgeons me. For the second time tonight, he loses control and his emotions hit me like a hammer. It’s a mad wash of fury, jealousy, frustration, and a hint of possession that thrills me to my core. He might be struggling, but he doesn’t take me lightly.
“That would be impossible,” he growls.
I never imagined he’d be so intense; he projects such casual charm. Most likely, other women couldn’t handle it, so he hides. He pretends to be gentle and tender, no darker feelings, no obsessive tendencies. He’s been playing that violin so long, it’s become the only tune he knows. But I don’t just want his sweetness.
I want everything.
“Tell me about her,” I say then.
“Who?” I’ve surprised him.
“The girl who made you like this. Before, you said you haven’t felt this way since high school. I’m guessing it didn’t end well.”
“It never does.”
I stare at him until he shifts uneasily. Then he pushes out a sigh of mingled annoyance and capitulation. “You want to know how it goes, sugar? I’m a black hole. I want and need and I devour their feelings, until they’re empty, too. Nobody
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