Fresh Laundry
(Mason)
The door shut and I went right to work. I didn’t get a chance to be alone in Violet’s apartment and not poke around a little. Don’t worry, there was a drunk woman puking in my bathroom. And, yes, she had locked herself in. Served me right for trying to maybe help someone that was way too drunk to know what she was fucking doing.
Again, thanks to Violet, I gave an attempt at helping someone else.
Yes, I may have pushed the envelope of helping by wanting something in return, but that was me. Everyone hated me. And I was perfectly okay with it.
I looked at the TV.
Some stupid show.
I grabbed the glass of wine and lifted it to my nose and smelled. I expected it to be that fake fruity shit wine, but this was dry. I took a sip. Really dry. I nodded. Violet knew how to drink wine. Not that I was an expert or anything. I personally preferred whiskey. No ice. Fuck, not even a glass.
Her apartment was basically opposite of mine. Kind of cool to look at. It smelled clean. Unused. Almost too clean. Everything about Violet was this big mystery to me. A beautiful mystery. It bothered me in a way that shouldn’t have been happening.
In the kitchen I laughed at the fruit bowl. The apples and oranges perfectly separated. How fitting since it was basically me and Violet. Bananas resting on top. Her coffeemaker matched the counter, along with the microwave and the toaster. Her fridge was empty, minus a whiteboard calendar that wasn’t all that filled out.
There was a red dot a week ago on a Thursday. I grinned, knowing what that red dot was. I thought about last week and remembered Violet being extra nasty to me.
I opened the fridge, praying for a beer.
There wasn’t. It was a barrage of healthy shit. I grabbed a container of milk and saw that it was milk made from almonds. Almonds? How the fuck did you milk an almond? I twisted off the cap and smelled it.
“No way,” I whispered.
I put the almond milk back and kept spying. She had brown eggs. She had a container of egg whites. Tomatoes, lettuce, broccoli. The bottom drawer had a stash of chocolate though. The one bag looked like it had been ripped into by a hungry animal. I glanced at the calendar again and saw the red dot. It made sense.
From the kitchen I went to the bathroom. It smelled like the soap store at the mall. But I didn't mind it. It smelled like Violet. She had a poofy looking thing hung up in the shower. Something about seeing this stuff… her shampoo, conditioner, body wash, razor, shaving cream… it was like I was seeing her. Not the wide eyed scared woman that stared at me, unsure if she should call the police or let me fuck her. I looked at myself in the mirror.
“Be careful,” I whispered. “Be very fucking careful.”
There was no such thing as me letting my guard down. Never, ever. Anything that had the notion of resembling that, I always took care of it. It was easier to break a woman’s heart than give her the chance to go after mine. Hate was easier to breed than love. And hate was easier to feed. Hate was stronger. That’s why they all hated me.
I grinned at my reflection and puckered my lips into a kiss.
What a dickhead.
I then set my sights on the bedroom.
To be fair, I wasn’t exactly going in there to snoop.
I wanted to hear what was going on in my place. The bathroom walls were thick with tile so it was hard to hear. But if I stood in the corner of the bedroom I could hear into my bedroom. And if the bathroom door was finally open, I’d be able to hear Violet and… the woman.
Christ, I hadn’t even gotten her name. Or if I did, I forgot it.
There wasn’t a single sound.
I turned and saw a basket of fresh laundry on the bed.
I laughed and couldn’t help myself.
Her clothes were perfectly folded, perfectly in place in the white basket. White basket… white… the color of innocence…
Right on top where her panties. The pair on top was a black pair with laced edges. Goddamn, it was impossible not to imagine that lace hugging the back of her ass tight. That lace moving around her waist, cutting between her legs. Those panties resting in places that I would never be able to rest. I’d be alive between her legs. Devouring her. Demanding her pleasure. Doing things to her that would scramble her brain enough to no longer give a damn about drinking fucking almond milk instead of regular.
That’s when an idea came to me.
Using my pointer finger, I hooked the panties and lifted.
I grinned and loved planting the seed… for Violet to really hate me.
I took the panties and stuffed them into my back pocket.
I had seen enough of her apartment for now.
It was time to go home.
With any luck, the drunk chick was still locked in the bathroom.
If so… I’d get time alone with Violet in my bedroom.
I walked into my apartment and heard voices. That was a good thing. I crept my way through the living room toward the bedroom. There were two ways to get into my bathroom. Off the living room and through the bedroom. Violet didn’t have that feature in her place. Probably cost her a lot less too. People gave me shit for not having my own house or land or something. But I preferred this kind of living. No commitment to anything but a lease that I could break by paying a little bit extra.
I was always free.
That was important to me.
And right then, I wanted my apartment to be free of the drunk, puking chick that I brought home.
I stood in my bedroom and saw Violet in the bathroom.
“You’re going to be okay,” Violet said. She was crouched down, rubbing the other woman’s back. “It’s just from drinking, that’s all.”
“I want to go home,” the woman whined in a drunk voice. “Where am I?”
“You’re… at a friend’s apartment. It’s okay. Nothing is wrong. It’s actually better to throw up. You’ll feel better tomorrow.”
The woman groaned and coughed. She let out a growling dry heave. Violet turned her head and then looked back at me.
I gave a thumb’s up.
She threw me the middle finger.
I smiled.
“Let me get you a towel,” Violet said.
She stood up and grabbed the towel hanging next to the sink.
I watched as she worked with patience to get the woman to calm down. She managed to get into the bathroom, which was a miracle in itself. And now she had the woman cleaned up. Violet even got her to laugh by telling her it could have been worse. She could have woken up in bed the next morning next to me.
Violet glanced back at me with half squinted eyes after she said that.
Trying to be mean? Maybe. But she was nothing but seduction and temptation.
Suddenly, she was a new prize for me.
I curled my finger and wanted Violet out of the bathroom.
“Hey, I’m going to go check on something,” Violet said. “I’ll shut the door. Please don’t lock it again. I’ll be right back in a few. Then we’ll get you into bed and the night will be over.”
“Okay,” the drunk woman said.
Violet pulled the door shut and was officially alone with me in my bedroom.
I slowly clapped my hands together. “Well done, babe. You got through to her.”
“What the hell did you do to her?” Violet growled at me.
She charged right at me, stopping with just inches between us. I could smell the shampoo that I had seen just a few minutes ago.
“Nothing,” I said. “We were taking our fun into the bedroom. She then jumped up and ran to the bathroom. She started to throw up. I tried to check on her and she had both doors locked.”
“What did you say to her…”
“I told her to make sure she threw up in the toilet,” I said. I shrugged my shoulders. “To be fair, I’m not cleaning up puke if I didn’t get laid.”
That was finally the line for Violet.
She swung her left hand and slappe
d me right across the face.
“She could have died,” Violet snapped. “You’re so insensitive. You asshole.”
I flexed my jaw, mentally noting that Violet had some strength behind her. Damn.
I touched my cheek. “I bet that felt good.”
“I’ve wanted to do that from the moment I met you.”
“Most women do. But, hey, we’re finally alone.” I reached out and put my finger to her cheek. I gently stroked down to her chin. “And if I can be serious for a second, thank you. I’m an asshole, Violet, but I wouldn’t want that woman to die in my bathroom.”
“Well isn’t that sweet of you,” she said.
“Then the cops would get involved. They’d be here for a while. I wouldn’t get any sleep.”
“Asshole,” she growled again at me.
She put her hands to my chest and tried to push, but I grabbed her. My hands finally touching her waist. My fingers spreading wider, exploring her perfect curves. My middle fingers touched bare skin. Sweet, soft, warm bare skin.
My cock slithered in my jeans, the sleeping beast easily ready to come to life and feed.
“You’re not pushing me away, babe,” I whispered. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Violet said.
“You like this,” I said. “You like me touching you. I’m every desire you ever had. I’m everything wrong with the thoughts you try to force to be right. And it’s okay, babe. You can have any dirty thoughts and needs you want. There’s only a wall separating us… and right now, it’s just a couple layers of clothing.”
I stroked her innocent cheek again and then cupped her face. She fit so perfectly in the rough palm of my hand. My other hand eased around to the small of her back. My fingers sliding under her shirt, seeking more of that warm skin. I wanted to taste every inch of her skin. Taste her body wash. Taste her sweat. Taste her desire as she came all over me at the command of my tongue.
“Mason… no…”
“You and that word,” I said. “I don’t like that word.”
“I don’t like you,” Violet said without hesitation.
“You don’t have to like me, babe. I’d prefer if you hate me.” I leaned in on her and moved at the last possible second, putting my lips to her ear. “If you hate me, the sex is so much better. You dig your nails harder at me. You bite my chest without care. You make fists and slam them against me as I slam against you. You’ll hate yourself when we’re done, but it’ll pass in a few minutes… because that’s right about the time I’ll start to kiss down your body and start it all over from the beginning…”
Her hands slid down my chest. For a split second I felt her hands starting to close, curling against my shirt.
She wanted it. She knew she wanted it. But her good girl heart and her sound mind told her no fucking way.
Violet backed up. “I should go check on her.”
“Yeah, you should,” I said. “I’ll be right here, waiting.”
Violet was just a millimeter shy of getting out of my grasp.
And that’s when I made the first move.
My hand clamped around her wrist and I pulled. Her body came crashing into mine. I put my hand to the back of her neck. No fucking way in hell she was going to stand in my room and not get a small preview of what was waiting for her.
My lips grazed hers for a second.
The kiss was gentle - way more gentle than I was used to giving.
But it was effective. So much so that Violet pushed away and slapped me again.
Same hand. Same side of my face.
I smiled and winked at her. “I like when you slap my face. Maybe I can slap your ass next time.”
“Now I get why there’s a woman in your bathroom throwing up. Disgusting.”
“You forgot to call me an asshole,” I said.
Violet got to the bathroom door and opened it. She looked back at me. Then she mouthed the word asshole to me. And there was a very faint smile on her face.
She liked all of this.
Too bad for her though… I was just getting started with her.
8
The Next Morning
(Violet)
A new first for me. Waking with a strange woman in my bed. I stood in the doorway holding two coffee mugs, still trying to figure out what the hell happened last night. I had been perfectly content relaxing on my couch with a glass of wine. But then I got sucked into the hurricane that went by the name of Mason.
When I went back to the bathroom, the woman - who I later found out was named Stephanie - sat up and reached for me. She was like a big, heavy baby. Flopping all over the place as I wrestled her up. Mason just stood there like a dick, watching the entire thing unfold. He even made some smart ass remarks about how sexy it looked with a drunk chick all over me. And then he dared me to kiss the woman’s neck.
The second she realized where she was and who Mason was, things got crazy. And nasty. I tried to get her into Mason’s bed, but she refused. Mason said if she got in the bed, things were going to happen. He smiled when he said it, just trying to fuck with me, but then Stephanie took it seriously and wanted out.
So I was left with a choice… put Stephanie in Mason’s bed and have Mason sleep at my place or just take Stephanie back to my place. I went with the second option because I did not want Mason in my apartment ever again. His little slick move grabbing me and trying to kiss me did not go over well. Yeah, maybe between my legs… but everywhere else, not a chance. I could find a way to take care of myself or go find a real boyfriend. I wasn’t going to have some fuck buddy next door neighbor thing. Not to mention that I hadn’t even…
Stephanie stirred in the bed.
In my bed.
For a second I thought about taking a picture and teasing Mason with it. He had already texted me three times this morning wanting to know if his date was still there. I hated that he called Stephanie his date. I hated that she was in my apartment, in my bed. Part of me even hated her for being so stupid as to get throw up drunk and end up in an apartment with a guy like Mason.
Anyway, back to last night for a second…
I all but carried Stephanie to my apartment. We made a quick stop to the bathroom, but nothing happened. Which was good. Then I got her into my bed and she was out cold. I stayed with her for a little bit, making sure she was okay. It seemed she got all the sickness out in Mason’s bathroom.
And that’s where she slept.
When she opened her eyes, she looked right at me as I stood with the cups of coffee. She pushed herself up in the bed and looked around.
“Where am… wait a second… is there a guy here?”
“No,” I said. “Just you and me.”
“Was there a guy here?”
“No. I…”
“Does that mean you and me…”
It took my virgin mind a few seconds to see the picture that Stephanie’s mind had painted.
I gasped. “No. No, we didn’t… you’re in my apartment. You were next door with Mason. Then you got sick.”
She shut her eyes. “I’m going to be sick.”
“You need coffee.” I walked to the bed and offered her a mug. “It’s black. Take a few sips and then come out and fix it how you like.”
Stephanie emerged from the bedroom five minutes later and looked as rough as you’d expect.
“I can make some eggs or a bagel for you,” I offered.
“This is fine,” Stephanie said. She walked to the counter and sat on a barstool. “I feel like shit.”
“You look it.”
She laughed. “Thanks. I didn’t get your name.”
“Violet.”
“Right. Thank you for helping me last night. Things just got way out of hand.”
“The more I live here and the more I know Mason, that seems to be his style.”
“I broke up with my boyfriend after I read some text messages. Yeah, sue me for going through his phone. So I decided to go out and get my own. I drank way too much vodka to
o fast. Next thing I knew there were hands everywhere on me. I felt like I was getting touched by ten guys. Then I threw my arms around Mason and he got me out of the club. We were fooling around in his truck for a little bit and then we went to his place.”
My heart raced and I felt the twisting fire of jealousy. I couldn’t stop picturing Stephanie sitting on top of Mason, riding him, right in his truck.
Why does it matter?
“I all of a sudden got real clear headed. Realized where I was and what was going to happen. Then I got sick.”
“Well, I hope you feel better today.”
“Thank you, Violet. For everything you did. You sort of saved me. Like big time.”
“No…”
“You did. I need to talk to my boyfriend. Ex. Whatever he is.”
“But you did stuff with Mason.”
“Did stuff?” she smiled. “Are we in high school? Look, we made out like crazy. He touched me here and there. That was it. Whatever. I was drunk anyway. Plus, after the text messages I read, this sort of evens the score.”
Evens the score…
Another stark reminder why the world of dating was foreign to me. Plus, the lingering pain of heartache was still inside me.
Suddenly, the idea of Mason wasn’t all that crazy. No strings attached. Next door neighbor.
I shut my eyes and collected myself.
“I should probably go,” Stephanie said.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “I mean, do you know where your car is?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I’ve got my keys and stuff. I’ll catch a ride.”
“I can give you a ride.”
“You’ve done more than enough,” she said. “I just want to get out of here. No offense to you. But I don’t want to see that guy ever again.”
“Mason?”
“I don’t want to hear his name. He’s filthy.”
“Filthy…”
“The shit he whispered in my ear. The way he tried to bite at me. Just tossing me around like I was a toy to him. And I could see it in his eyes…”
The more Stephanie spoke, the more I started to get turned on. That’s when I started to hate myself. I couldn’t let myself fall for any trap Mason set.
HATE ME: a bad boy romance novel Page 5
