“Oh, that looks good. Grab me a piece, babe.” He picks up a pack of T-bone steaks.
“Karrie,” I tell him, grabbing another piece of salmon. “I know you are used to one syllables, but it’s Kar-Rie It’s two syllables. I’m sure even you can do it.” I put the salmon in the cart.
“Funny.” He pushes the cart with his elbows almost bent over while we make it into the cereal aisle. He grabs the cereals filled with all the sugar in the world. “Oh, you think they have Fruity Pebbles?” His eyes scan over the rows, looking for it.
“And I’m babysitting a twelve-year-old,” I say while I toss him the box of Fruity Pebbles that’s right on my side next to the granola I grab for myself.
We end up filling the whole cart with way too much food. More food than I’ve ever bought. We load it all on the conveyor belt. The lady starts scanning our items and when I’m about to pull out my credit card, he grabs it from my hand.
“Don't even think about it, Kar-Rie.” He smirks while he gives the clerk his credit card. “See, just like a big boy.”
I pfft out, rolling my eyes. “This from the one who almost had a temper tantrum when I put back the Fruit Roll-Ups.”
“Hey”—he points at me—“they were a surprise flavor.” He looks at the clerk. “Can we have these delivered?”
After I fill in the address we walk out, making our way back to the house.
When we get back home, I bring him upstairs to finally show him his bathroom. The walk-in shower has no door, just glass. There are about fifteen shower heads aimed everywhere. A Venetian mirror above the marble basin is in front of it with the vintage dark vanity. There are built-in shelves right next to the entrance to the shower filled with white folded towels. I hear the doorbell ring.
“I’ll go get that while you look around,” I tell him, walking out, because the only thing I could concentrate on was him naked in the shower while the water fell off his strong shoulders cascading around him. Me in front of him while he bends over to kiss me. I let the delivery guy in and start putting the things away when I hear him coming down the stairs obviously talking to someone.
He walks into the room with the phone in front of him. “This is the kitchen,” he says to whoever is on the other line and I hear a girl’s voice. My stomach rolls with a wave. “That’s Karrie.”
I turn to glare at him till he turns the phone around to show me a beautiful woman.
“Babe, this is my mom.” The minute babe comes out of his mouth in front of his mother my eyes go as big as saucers.
“Hi”—I wave at her—“nice to meet you. I’m Karrie, not babe.” I glare at him while I hear his mother laughing.
“Oh, she’s beautiful,” she says, and I smile at her while I hear about fifteen voices in the background all asking to see. She turns the phone where I see two twins with strawberry blond hair get into the picture.
“I'm Zoe. This is Zara. You should know that he stinks when he goes to the bathroom. Like garbage.” And then the phone is ripped from my hand where I belly laugh as he calls them little shits, and their mother shoos them away.
“Let me see her. I didn’t see her.” I hear again from another female voice.
He hands me back the phone where I see the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, another strawberry blonde, aqua blue eyes shaped oval.
“OMG, he’s so fucked.” Is all she says till Matthew’s mom snaps, “Watch your mouth!”
I smile back at his sister, telling her that she is beautiful. She shrugs her shoulders as if she hears it all the time.
“So you are going to be the one holding my brother’s leash?” She laughs while I look over at Matthew, who is now rubbing his hands over his face, making his shirt move up a little, showing me the waist with his Calvins coming out.
“I don’t know about a leash, but I’ll be tied to his side.” I smile at her. “I won’t be at his beck and call, but...” I don’t even finish and I hear laughing in the background of the phone when a man comes on.
Cooper Stone. He was hot back in the day and he’s even hotter now. I stare at him, blinking, not sure what to say.
“Mr. Stone, I’m a huge fan.” I don’t know what I said wrong, but Matthew snatches the phone from my hand while he talks to Cooper. “Rude, asshole,” I grumble to myself while I go around grabbing the stuff I want to eat for supper. I place the salmon on a baking dish and sprinkle it with salt and pepper. I place it into the oven while I get the vegetables set up and Matthew finally comes back into the room.
“They will be here before the game tomorrow. It will only be Cooper and Mom. We will head to the arena together.”
I drop the knife I was holding while cutting the vegetables.
“Your parents are coming here?” I wipe my hands on a rag, running around the house. “The house isn’t clean.” I run from the kitchen to the living room, assessing what we need to do before tomorrow. “If we get up by six, we should be able to make the house presentable.” Holy shit, his mother and stepfather are coming over to the house. Why am I so freaked out? Why does this make me want to sit down and hyperventilate?
“Karrie,” he says, grabbing me and turning me around while he puts his hands on my shoulders. “Breathe. In and Out.” And I listen to his voice while he calms me. My heart is getting back to beating normal. “You could eat off the floor. And besides, my parents aren’t like that. Now can we go back and finish cooking? I’m starving.” He squeezes my shoulders while I watch him walk away, his ass baiting me to squeeze it with either my hands or the heels of my feet. Either way it’s starting to become perfectly clear why I want to make a good impression. I like him, more than I want to kill him. This could be a problem.
Chapter Five
Matthew
Game day. It’s the only thing running through my mind as I stand in the shower. Well, that and the fact that I’m tempted to go downstairs, march into Karrie’s room, and bury my face in her.
From the second I saw her in the gym I was attracted to her, then she walked into the conference room and she didn’t let me get away with anything. Her sassy mouth had my dick harder than all the marble in this fucking house. Last night after I talked her down from her latest walk to the edge, we stood side by side getting things ready for dinner. I’ve never done this before. I’ve had women, more than I care to think about, but I’ve never had the comfortable silence and ease. I’ve never actually been myself.
These girls don’t want me; they want the jock. They want the NHL star. They want the claim to fame. But Karrie, she wants none of that. She's so pissed off when I call her babe it makes me laugh, so now I do it to piss her off even more. She gets so pissed that the vein in her head tics, making me want to grab her by the back of her neck and kiss her till it stops.
Last night we sat down at supper and went over the ‘rules’.
“Okay, so we should have some ground rules since we’ll be roommates.” She started saying while she finished chewing. “I’ve never lived with a guy before, so I’m thinking we always knock when the door is closed.”
The thought of her living with another guy made me clench my fist. Made me almost want to push off from the table and go outside and yell till my throat was raw.
“Okay, must knock before walking into a closed door. But,” I said while taking a forkful of salmon, “what if you’re yelling for me because you’re naked and need my help? Do I knock first or just charge in?” I smirked while I saw the vein coming back.
“I doubt I’d need anything from you if I’m naked, but in that case please come charging in. There’s only one television in the house, so I think we should buy another one you can put upstairs in the office.”
“Why?” I asked her. “Can we not just watch television together? I don’t really watch it that much. I’m usually gone most of the time.” I smiled at her. “And now you will be, too.”
“I have a DVR and I record all my shows, so I’ll watch them when I come back home.” She pointed at me with her fork.
“That’s another rule. No touching my DVR.”
I laughed at her while chewing. “I promise to not cancel or delete any of your Kardashians.” I smiled while I continued eating. “Are you a morning person?”
“Why?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.
“My mother can’t be talked to without at least smelling coffee. I’m just making sure I don’t die.”
She laughed at that, but she had not been on the end of my mother without caffeine.
“I guess I’m civil, but I do like coffee in the morning.” She started using her fork to push things in her plate around. “What about you?”
“Me?” I put my fork down. “I’m usually up by five a.m. I like to get a little cardio in before going to the rink. I usually have a protein shake after.”
“If you wake me at five a.m., with or without coffee, I will lock you out of the house.” She dropped her fork also. “There’s a paper list in the middle drawer in the kitchen. If you finish something in the fridge or the pantry, put it on the list. I guess we can do the shopping once a week. They have this great outside market not too far.”
“Done.” I didn't think she realized we would hardly be home with the traveling.
“We should talk about dating,” she said, and I smiled big.
“Yes, let’s talk about us dating,” I told her, rubbing my hands together.
“I’ll be respectful of your dates, if you’re respectful to mine,” she said, and my hand in midair stopped her from talking. Her dates, what fucking dates?
“Are you fucking dating?” My hands came down on the table. Her arms crossed over her chest.
“Not at the moment, but in case I meet someone and they pick me up here or”—she shook her head—“they spend the night, I just want to make sure you aren’t, well, you.”
“No fucking dating,” I snapped, getting up and picking up my plate, walking into the kitchen clutching it so hard I thought it was going to snap in two, or ten.
“Wait a fucking second.” She stormed after me. “You can’t tell me not to date. Surely you’ll want to date also, and I’m okay with that.” When she said it, I saw her stop talking and tried to swallow, her neck moving up and down, her neck that I wanted to lean in, bite, and mark.
“How about we both don’t date while we are together?” I cleaned off my plate before rinsing it off and putting it in the dishwasher. “How’s that?” I asked her, praying she accepted this. Either that or I was going to go apeshit on her.
She walked back to her dish in the dining room, came back in, and handed it to me so I could put it in the dishwasher. “We aren’t together, but I guess if we meet someone, we can come back and revisit this.” She shrugged and leaned into the counter.
There would be no fucking revisiting this. The only thing we needed to discuss was if she was going to be in my bed or I would be in hers.
“Fine. I think we have some ground rules now. I’m going to bed,” she said, walking out of the room.
“Want me to come tuck you in?” I asked her.
She didn't answer, just flipped me the bird in the air. My laugh filled the house till the sound of her slamming the door shut me up.
Now I’m in the bathroom wiping the foggy mirror with my hand. My eyes look rested. They don’t give away I was so nervous last night that I tossed and turned. Grabbing one of the white folded towels, I wrap it around my waist, making my way downstairs where I come face to face with a sleepy Karrie. Fuck me. If I thought she was hot dressed, it is nothing like seeing her in her lace booty shorts and a matching black tank top. Her breasts are sagging just a touch so you know she isn’t wearing a bra.
“Morning,” she says, stretching her hand over her head, making the shorts shorter and her top go up a bit so I’m faced with the little skin on her belly. She finally takes in my towel, her tongue coming out. “Why are you naked? That should be a rule. No naked in the house.”
“I’m wearing a towel. I’m not naked. Maybe I should drop the towel so you can know the difference between naked and not naked.” My hand goes to the side of the towel while she holds up her hand and turns her head.
“Don’t you dare.”
And that’s all I need before my hand unfolds the towel, making it drop to my feet. My cock obviously got in on the action and is giving her an early morning wave. He’s also begging for her to drop to her knees and take me deep into her throat. Her head snaps back to look at me, her nipples suddenly peaking. She puts up her hand in front, not sure what she is blocking.
“I can’t believe you. Would you cover that tiny thing up? Is it cold in here?”
I laugh at her, knowing she is full of shit. I’m not trying to give my ego a boost, but I know I’m packing down there.
“Yup, someone must have left the windows open,” she says while she runs downstairs.
“Wait, come back. I showed you mine. Shouldn’t you show me yours? Is there a rule for that?” I lean down the stairs, bending and picking up the towel. I have no idea what she is doing down there, but all I hear is her voice ranting again while she slams what I’m assuming is the cupboard doors and some drawers. “I’ll take a coffee also if you’re making it.” I laugh to myself, walking into my room and closing my door behind me.
I pull a pair of basketball shorts that I put away last night out of the drawer. I need to make arrangements to have my clothes shipped here. They are already packed, but I just didn’t have the address when I came out here. I wait in the room a bit to make my cock go to at least half-mast before going downstairs. Once I think it’s okay I make my way downstairs. Karrie is sitting on the couch, her feet folded under her, a throw blanket lying across her legs while she holds her cup of coffee in her hand and watches something on television. She must hear me because she raises her hand to flip me the bird again. I laugh at her, going into the kitchen and making myself a cup. I go back into the living room, sitting next to her, watching what is on television. I’m here for about five minutes before I have to ask what the fuck she’s watching.
“It’s Below Deck,” she says like it’s something that everyone watches. When she sees the confused look on my face she continues, “It’s about a crew that works on a yacht.” She takes a sip of her coffee while she fast-forwards the commercials.
“This is a reality show?” I say, leaning back on the couch. “Babe, you watch the strangest shows.”
“It’s not strange and it’s real life.” She actually thinks this isn’t scripted. “The charter guests are all getting drunk and swapping partners in the hot tub.” This piques my interest.
“We see them fucking?” I ask, curious.
“Pig,” she sputters out just when it goes to a commercial again. “Why is it you guys always think of sex?” she asks, looking at me.
I glance at her. Her hair is piled on top of her head. I want to lean over and take her mouth, show her exactly why I always think about sex.
“You obviously haven’t had sex with the right person if you’re asking me why I’m always thinking about sex.” I try baiting her.
“Oh, please, calm down there, Ron Jeremy.” She sits up, putting her coffee cup on the table in front of her. “I may not be a ‘professional’ such as yourself, but I know plenty of other men who don’t always think about sex.”
“Number one, thank you for calling me Ron Jeremy. You know he’s like the biggest porn star out there because his dick is so big, right?” I wink at her while she takes a pillow and throws it at me. I knock it away, continuing, “I can make a bet with you right now that any red-blooded male you ask, if a girl walks in front of them, the first thing they think of is sex.” I shrug my shoulders. She leans back again and shrugs, too. “I’m hungry.” I get up. “I’m going to make myself an omelet. You want some?”
“When aren’t you hungry?” she says, putting the blanket up to her neck and returning her gaze to the television.
I look back down at her. She must feel my stare because she turns to me.
“Wh
enever you’re around, I’m suddenly famished. Like I haven’t eaten for days.” I wink at her, walking out, giving her that to think about. Meanwhile I cup my cock and tell him soon, very fucking soon.
Chapter Six
Karrie
Holy. Fucking. Shit. I take my phone out from under the blanket and text Vivienne.
I think Matthew just said he wanted to eat my vagina!!
Her text comes back right away.
What do you mean?
He said that ‘Whenever you’re around, I’m suddenly famished. Like I haven’t eaten for days.’ Does that mean he wants to eat my vagina?
I don’t know. Hey, go to the kitchen table, get on it, and lie down naked and see what happens!
Are you insane?
No, I’m trying to get my best friend laid and find out if he’s packing.
Oh, he’s definitely packing. He ‘dropped’ his towel today. NAKED.
Jesus, it’s not even fucking eight o’clock in the morning and you’ve had more action than I’ve had in a month. And I’m French.
“Come and eat, your highness.” I hear from the back of the house.
I drop my phone like I’m holding a hot potato. I get up, walking into the kitchen where he’s standing buttering toast. “I made more coffee,” he tells me, pointing to my plate that he put on the counter.
I assess the omelet on the plate. It looks mouthwatering. “What’s inside?” I ask, sitting on one of the stools at the counter nook.
“Onions, spinach, asparagus, mushrooms, Swiss cheese, some ham.” He sits next to me, digging in.
“I’ve never had a man cook for me. Well, except my dad, but that was few and far between.” I cut a piece and groan the minute I chew into it. “It’s so good.” I don’t even look over at him. I just continue eating.
“I’ve never cooked for a woman. Well, except my sisters and on occasion my mom.” He laughs. “Mother’s Day.”
Something So Perfect Page 4
