by Jess Bentley
“Oh, we are definitely eating this,” Clay asserts as he takes the plates from me and deposits them on the table. “Looks really delicious! I didn’t even realize you could cook like this!”
I want to giggle as he makes a big show of stabbing his fork right into the middle of the pile of rubbery pasta and twisting out a mouthful out of it. He stuffs it into his face and grins happily.
“Seriously delicious!” he mumbles over a mouthful of food. “Have some! I insist!”
Relieved, I sit across from him and manage to get a couple of noodles into my mouth. Once I adjust to the strange temperature, the texture isn’t terrible. The sauce is good, anyway. Those guys at Prego really know what they are doing.
“That jerk doesn’t realize what he’s missing!” Clay continues as he eats with gusto.
He was right, too, the wine isn’t as terrible as I thought it was. It’s really the perfect complement to icy, gluey pasta.
“And he was stoned!” I blurt out. “I mean, not like I care, but isn’t that rude? Like he stood me up and then I couldn’t even yell at him because he was too high to understand anything I was even saying.”
“That is unbelievable!” Clay scoffs. “Is that why he was late?”
“Who even knows? Maybe? But then he just said he was leaving, and ‘we knew it was coming.’ Just like that!”
Clay pauses in mid-chew. “Wait… Is that how you broke up? He just left?”
I shrug. It seems silly to admit that I didn’t even throw a fit or anything. I feel like such a wimp. I just let him walk on out the door like some shitty R&B song.
He sets his fork down gently on his plate and reaches his hand across the table to cover mine around my wine glass.
“Penny, you deserve a million times better. I can find Mike and ask him to—”
I laugh, not wanting to draw my fingers away.
“I already told you! I don’t want to put a hit out on him or anything!”
“Because I absolutely would! I absolutely would get Mike to do it!”
“I believe you!” I giggle, catching his fingers between my fingers.
“Nobody should ever make you feel that way,” he says, suddenly serious.
His lips twist slightly to the side, a pout that I’ve seen him reserve for puppies and basketball finals.
“I’m fine, Clay,” I assure him, squeezing his fingers between mine. “I really am.”
He squeezes my fingers back.
“You really are,” he smiles sheepishly. “You’re definitely the prettiest girl in this apartment.”
“Oh, why, thank you!” I smile, flipping my hair back flirtatiously.
He flips his hair back over his shoulder too, mimicking me.
“Irresistible!” he exclaims. “A beauty for the ages! And I know this, because I have an art history final coming up on Wednesday, and I have been studying.”
“Oh, you have?” I smile, taking my wine glass up with my other hand so that I don’t have to stop touching his fingers. “You have a final on beauty ages?”
He leans forward conspiratorially. His fingers tug against mine and his thumb brushes against the tip of my index finger, tracing a circle.
“Standard of beauty, baby,” he murmurs. “You’re it. Couple thousand years of Venuses? Aphrodites?”
“Aren’t they the same thing?” I chuckle.
“Whatever. They don’t hold a candle to you, Penny.”
I laugh, pulling my hand back and rolling my eyes.
“Okay, okay… You’ve made me feel better, Clay. Mission accomplished.”
He reaches forward and snatches my fingers back again, pulling me to standing.
“You’re not a mission, Penny,” he smiles as he strokes my hair behind my ear. “You never were. I mean it. I mean every word.”
As he leans in, I automatically stand up on my tiptoes. It’s just a natural reaction, not even something that I meant to do on purpose. He leans down toward me and I lean up toward him and suddenly we are kissing.
Like, really kissing. To my surprise, he tastes delicious. He tastes like something I’m hungry for, and my whole body reacts. I sway forward, letting him catch me against his frame, pushing up closer to him. He holds me under my elbows, lifting me slightly as his lips slip over mine, wet and wine-flavored.
Something comes over me, some reckless inclination. I wrap my arms over his shoulders and lock my fingers behind his neck, pushing my tongue into his mouth, tasting his strangely familiar flavor. Like I have always known what his kisses would be like, even though we have never kissed.
His hands wander all over my body, stroking me from my shoulders down to my ass cheeks, as though he’s trying to read me in braille. My nipples harden against his chest, pressing urgently as I try to feel him all at once. I am a live wire, looking for a circuit.
Taking his hand, I start walking backward toward my room. His eyebrows go up.
“Are you sure?” he asks me gently, his lower lip still glistening with the moisture from our kiss.
“Absolutely, positively sure,” I smile.
As though he had been waiting for permission, Clay suddenly changes. He dips his chin and stares at me intently before striding forward to take me in his arms again. His mouth covers mine as his fingers slide underneath my dress, starting at the knee, gliding over my thighs, and lingering at the lace fringe of my panties.
“I’ve been waiting so long for this,” he moans into my mouth, pulling my lower lip between his teeth as he maneuvers me back toward the bed.
I don’t have to do anything, just relax and follow his guidance as he gently pushes me down, leaving my lower half almost hanging off the side. I quickly realize why when he kneels suddenly, hooking my legs over his shoulders so that he can bury his face between my legs.
I can barely catch my breath as his hot, slippery tongue spears the border between my panties and thigh. I’m sopping wet, swollen and pulsing with desire for him.
“Yes, Penny,” he groans, the vibration of his low voice echoing through my pussy.
My breath hitches when he slips a finger inside me, smoothly sliding it in and out as his tongue runs circles around my clit. Every move he makes is perfect for me, sending sparks of pleasure ricocheting off my borders.
I’m helpless to do anything but ride it out. I’m totally at his mercy. He plays me like an instrument that he knows so well.
Working together, his mouth and his fingers unlock some secret combination of my body, sending me subtly over the edge of a cliff, spiraling in midair, weightless and dizzy. I hear my voice in the room, and feel everything go blinding white.
Waves crash through me, almost overwhelmingly then gradually subsiding. After a little while I realize that Clay is climbing into bed next to me, a satisfied smile on his face, his eyes keen in the dim light.
He settles in close, sliding my dress the rest of the way off as my body continues to throb under his fingers. I catch his eye, curious to see if it’s still just the same man I’ve always known. My roommate? Can this really be him?
“Is everything okay in there?” he smirks, taking my hand and guiding it to his thick, throbbing manhood. I can feel the wetness at the tip and run my thumb over it, pleased to see how he shivers in response.
“That was… Amazing,” I breathe. “Right? Wasn’t it?”
“You were expecting something else?” he whispers, quickly rolling out a condom then closing his large hands over mine, guiding me to stroke him from tip to the base, over and over again.
I wasn’t expecting this, I admit to myself, but I don’t say it out loud.
He is thick and veiny, and I can feel how velvety his skin is. I want to turn the lights on, but he’s already angling the tip between us, pulling my leg over his hip, guiding that thick head toward my entrance.
“You feel so good,” he moans as he presses against me, urging my legs open wider.
His hands slip over my hips, positioning me like a steering wheel, holding me steady as h
e enters me in one long, slow, unstoppable motion. I hold my breath, letting him fill me completely.
With my arms over his shoulders, we move together in unison, rocking perfectly on my narrow bed. We break into a sweat, holding each other close until he pulls back suddenly to stare into my eyes before his expression changes. I feel his cock lurch inside me. I hold him tight between my thighs, never wanting to let go, startled and amazed by what we have just found.
Chapter 5
Clay
I wake up before her, with memories tugging me out of my dream. Did that just happen? I piece it back together: the gig, the blonde, the cold spaghetti, the pain behind her eyes.
Penny has always had this effect on me since the first day I met her, when she was late to register for classes. She came in with an armful of textbooks and her hair streaming out behind her in dark, shining waves. I had just finished registration and she didn’t even really see me when I stepped aside to let her through to beg for the last spot in management class. I watched her profile with her freckles dancing across her cheeks as she grimaced and pouted until the registration guy penciled her in at the bottom of a long printout of names. She basically bullied him into it.
As soon as she was victorious, she turned to me, her eyes focusing on mine as though this had all just been a brief interruption of a conversation already in progress. As though we were already friends.
“Thank you so much!” she breathes happily, even though I had nothing to do with it. “I’m starved. You want to get a cappuccino or something?”
That was it. I like to think she found me, like a lost puppy or something. Like a pet abandoned at a highway rest stop. She just came along and lured me into the safety of her presence with well-placed treats. Since we are both majoring in project management, we have had lots of classes together. We have shared textbooks to save money. And we have shared this apartment for two years.
But nothing like this has ever happened before. Never like this.
Her lips are pale as she breathes peacefully through her mouth, snoring softly. Her hair spills over the pillow and down to cover bare shoulders. The unmatched sheets beneath us are wrinkled and musty now, a smell that billows up in waves as she shifts to her side, smacking her lips together lightly. She rolls into a shaft of morning light and squints reflexively.
Fascinated, I watch as consciousness overtakes her little by little. Her delicate eyebrows push together in the invading light and I see her eyes move underneath the lids. Inhaling deeply, she draws a hand up to rub her cheek. Her eyes open just the tiniest bit, just slits. They focus on me dreamily, slowly widening until she’s looking right at me.
“Hey, good morning, Penny.”
She opens her mouth to reply, then flinches back and clamps her lips closed again. I can almost read her thoughts: the dawning realization of where we are, together, and what we’ve just done.
What I wasn’t expecting was the look of shock on her face.
“Hang on, what’s going on?” she asks in a rush, drawing back and fisting the floral sheet against her naked collarbones.
Protectively, I hold my hands up in the air like I’m surrendering.
“It’s all good, Pen. Everything is okay.”
“Everything is not okay!” she hisses, alarmed. “I’m naked! You’re naked! This is my room!”
“This is where you wanted to be,” I explain simply, rolling to the side of the bed and drawing on my boxer shorts before standing up.
Her room is a mess, like always. Penny seems to fling things around instead of ever just putting them away. Not sure why. Seems like a waste of energy.
I pick her fluffy pink robe off the hook at the back of the door and drape it over her side of the bed.
“Why don’t I make you some coffee?” I offer reasonably, suddenly eager for an escape route anyway.
Not waiting for her to answer, I make my way to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee in the drip brewer. The kitchen is still sort of a mess. While I’m waiting for the coffee, I drop the congealed mass of dried-out spaghetti noodles into the garbage and follow that with the crusty remains of the sauce.
By the time the coffee is done, I have the kitchen mostly back to order. Everything is where it should be, but I can’t find the cookie sheet. It’s not in the fridge, and not in the sink so…
When I open the oven door, and acrid wave of burnt garlic fills the kitchen. I slide the cookie sheet out of the cold oven, knocking what used to be bread loose from the surface with my knuckle, spraying black crumbs to the floor.
“Oh… I forgot about that,” she admits meekly as she shuffles into the kitchen.
“No big deal,” I shrug as I deposit the black masses in the garbage. “Unless you needed to save them for something? You want to start a construction company? I think they would make good bricks.”
“Har har har,” she drawls, plopping into the kitchen chair with a groan. “You’re hilarious this morning. Feeling good, are you?”
Taking the coffee pot off its hot plate, I pour her a cup and slide it on the table, shrugging. As she pulls it toward her, her robe slips off her shoulder and reveals that kissable corner of her neck again.
“Frankly, I feel amazing,” I admit as I sit across from her. “You don’t feel amazing?”
She shrugs shyly, casting her eyes away. “Should I? I did just get dumped.”
Her words rock me back a little like an ocean wave picking a shell up off the sand. There are a thousand things I want to say. Yes, you should feel amazing. That was amazing. We are amazing, don’t you see that?
“He didn’t deserve you,” I say simply.
Unlike me, who does deserve you, obviously. Hello?
Her eyelashes flutter as she forces herself to look up at me. She frowns sadly, clearly guilty and confused. I know I should sympathize with her, but I don’t know why she’s being so stubborn about this. If she would just take a moment to think about it, she’d see this is actually perfect.
“Clay, I’m so sorry,” she murmurs. “I don’t know what came over me. The wine, maybe? You were being so sweet to me. We never should have—”
“—oh, of course not. Don’t worry about it.”
The words fall out of my mouth before I even have time to think them. Just reflexive instincts, just saying man things to man up the situation. No big deal. Who cares? Not this man.
“Really?” she replies hopefully. “Because you mean the world to me, Clay, you really do. I would hate to mess this all up right before graduation and everything.”
I wave my hand in the air dismissively. “It was just sex, Penny. No big deal.”
She bites her lower lip, her chin trembling slightly. I vividly remember kissing her the last time that happened, taking all that pain away by holding her in my arms. She should let me do that again.
“Because you are literally the best thing in my life,” she continues, clearly unaware that she’s stomping all over my heart, marching back and forth like she’s doing military drill moves.
“Back at you, Pen,” I smile confidently.
“No, seriously!” she insists with a wide smile. “I seem to be able to screw up every other relationship. But not this. We are just too perfect.”
“Absolutely,” I agree, hoping she will just let it go.
She sighs deeply, settling back with the mug cradled between her fingertips, drinking the coffee slowly. It’s just black now. Two years ago, we might have had half-and-half and sugar. Now we hardly ever have either, and we just got used to it that way.
“I don’t know if I’ll ever find anybody as awesome as you, Clay,” she says into the mug. “And to be totally honest, the sex was… Amazing?”
She looks at me directly, her cheeks going bright pink as she stomps gleefully all over my heart. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp.
“Pretty good, yes,” I nod tensely.
She rolls her eyes. “Pretty good? Are you kidding me? It was outstanding, Clay, and you know it! That thing you did with your fi
ngers? When you—”
My hands go up automatically. Stop.
“Not allowed to talk about it!” I object, joking thinly. “Trademarked move, you know. Has to stay a secret.”
“Mmmmm, yes,” she sighs deeply, her breath opening her robe even further. I can smell her from where I’m sitting. I feel my cock dripping against my leg. I need to get out of here and begin to stand, mumbling something about going to the grocery store. Her fingers reach out and catch my wrist gently, stopping me in my tracks.
“We should make a pact,” she says hurriedly, smiling shyly.
I’m not pulling too hard to get away, but I am rooted to the spot by her gentle touch.
“A pact? What kind of pact?”
“Oh, you know,” she grins as she rises, clutching her robe closed over her chest as she moves to drop her used coffee cup in the sink. “Like… If we don’t find someone else. If things don’t work out.”
I can still see her hips moving underneath that fluffy thick pink fabric. How did it go by so fast?
“What are you talking about? We still have got finals… Next semester…”
She turns around, pressing her lips together apologetically.
“Well, see, I got a job offer. In Albany.”
I shake my head. “What are you talking about? You didn’t even graduate yet.”
“Oh, I’ve only got this semester,” she shrugs. “I did all that AP work in high school, so… I’m graduating at the end of this term. And Buckminster Engineering got my resume. Offered me a position…”
My thoughts are all confused, swirling around each other, making a hell of a noise between my ears.
“You’ve been sending out resumes? Why didn’t you tell me? To New York?”
“You should probably be happy for me,” she smirks. “You should probably be telling me congratulations.”
She breezes past me toward the bedroom, leaving me to follow behind, confused and sputtering with my hard-on bouncing inside my boxer shorts like some kind of cartoon character.
“Well, congratulations, yeah,” I mumble. “That’s great. That’s amazing. Project manager?”
