by P. R. Paige
"Ever hear of a thing called knocking?" I ask him. My voice is playful and soft.
He flashes me a cute smile. "As you know, the beds were delivered today."
"I know. I saw them when I was leaving this morning."
He's wearing a black sleeveless t-shirt, black jeans and his signature Fedora hat. It's obvious he doesn't believe in taking time out from looking so wonderfully appetizing.
To be perfectly honest, if Rome were not so freaking handsome, I never would have accepted his offer to move in here. I like to kid myself into thinking that writing a good story was my only objective for living in the House of Rome, but deep down inside, and even not so deep, I know differently.
"Are you sure you are ready for this?" Rome asks me then graces the back of my hand with a kiss.
"I think I am."
Rome then hands me the two shopping bags. "This is for you. I'm sure the girls have already told you about the sleeping attire."
"I've seen the sleeping attire."
"Wonderful. I bought you eight sets."
"But I'm only supposed to stay with you all for one night," I remind him.
"I know, but there's always a chance you might change your mind and join us indefinitely."
"You seem confident that I will."
"I wouldn't call it confidence so much as I would call it certainty."
I smile and construct my thoughts. "You're a big cocky thing, aren't you?"
"I wouldn't have said that, but I'm glad that you did."
Rome soaks up my hand into his so that our fingers are clasped together.
I stare down at our hands intertwined and smile. I like what I see.
Is he trying to start something with me?
Again?
With the two girls downstairs watching TV?
"Are you still interested in knowing what I was doing to Storm the other night?" Rome asks me.
I want to say yes, but I'm afraid that it's a trick question, so instead, I say, "No."
"I don't believe you. How about I show you?" he asks me.
My eyes widen and my jaw drops open. "You want to show me?"
"Do you want me to show you?" he asks me. His voice is soft and delicate.
I don't answer right away. I am turned on by his voice, his hands and the proximity of ours bodies.
With all the resistance that I have inside me, I unclasp my hand from his, and say, "That's okay," right before I turn away from him and slip my shower cap on my head. With my back to him, I slide the shower curtain away from the wall. He's watching me, but I don't care.
He grabs my arm and yanks me hard and close to him. I think he is about to kiss me, but he doesn't. Instead, he stares at me with his pretty brown eyes, trying to wear me down with his sweet breath, and unfortunately for me, it just might work.
Episode Eleven
The bathroom is engulfed in steam from the shower while at the same time an incredible hunger overpowers me. At this moment, I do not resist Rome anymore. Without pause, I open myself up to my instincts, lean in and kiss him, slowly and with all the lust in my heart. Again and again, I kiss him, my hands sweating and my heart thumping. I don't ever want to stop, but when I do, Rome asks me. "So, what do we do now?"
I wish nothing more than to wrap my legs around his body and have him violate me in the best way, but I do not do any of that. I keep it all to myself and go in a completely different direction.
"I'm going to take my shower," I say, "and you're going to get the hell out of here."
"That's not a very nice thing to say," he says to me.
"But you like it, don't you?" I say, gliding my finger across his lips.
"Actually, I do."
That evening, I change into my matching pajamas shorts and nightshirt, which are imprinted with the words The House of Rome. It is soft, it's colorful, and I love the way that it feels against my skin.
Before I mosey into the family sleeping room, which is to be the ultimate initiation into the family, I brush my teeth and sprinkle baby powder on my chest and inside my panties.
It's ten o'clock when I step through the door of the family sleeping room. Storm is already in bed, leaning back on her forearms, doing bicycle exercises. The TV is tuned to CNN with the sound muted, which is the norm around here. There's always lots of TV watching, but more times than not, the sound is always muted.
Storm stops bicycling her legs and lowers her body into a sitting position. "Welcome, Thursday."
"Thank you," I say as I crawl up on the two king-sized beds pushed together, which are adorned with deep purple sheets. I position my back against the velvet headboard and eagerly await the strange and unusual as I'm certain it's on its way.
"This is very comfortable," I say, moving my legs back and forth against the cotton sheets. I never thought that I would be in my thirties, sleeping in a bed with three other adults. It just goes to show you. You just never know what life has in store for you.
Rome pops in, drops to the floor and does pushups. As soon as India rushes the room, she straddles Rome's back, and Rome continues with the pushups, without a struggle.
I grin. The entertainment around here never stops. "Does she always get on his back like that," I ask Storm.
"Just about," Storm says, reaching for the vitamin bottle on the end table.
"Would you like some iron?" Storm asks me.
Usually when she offers vitamins, I say no, but this time, I realize that I could use some iron. "Yes, I would."
After downing two iron tablets and two sips of bottled water, my eyes are drawn back to Rome doing his pushups on the floor with India straddling him like he's a horse. When Rome completes his 100 reps, he steps out of the room, and India scrambles into bed. She straddles her body on top of Storm's so that they are face to face.
My first thought is, maybe I should not be in here at this time. After all, this display of affection, if I'm to refer to it as that, is happening right next to me. It's not like I can ignore any of it.
India pushes her face directly in Storm's and says, "If you want to make up with me for what you said about that hump in my back…"
"You know that I do," Storm says.
"In that case, you can buy me the new Gillian Flynn book."
"That book costs $60," Storm protests.
"Do you want to make up with me or not?" India asks her as if the answer should be obvious.
"You know that I do," Storm says. "Can I get you the eBook?"
"You know I'm a book-in-the-hand kind of person."
"Okay, then," Storm says, then brushes her lips across India's cheek. "Are we friends again?"
"We never stopped." India rolls off of Storm and sits with her back against the headboard. She and Storm stuff their legs underneath the covers. As I examine the two of them sitting snug, I realize that these two women really do like each other.
It dawns on me when I see a Snausages dog food commercial that India's dog is still missing. "India, what's the word on Doggie?"
"No word yet," India says, "but she'll be back. She always comes back."
I shift my legs back and forth against the purple cotton sheets and acclimate myself to this unusual sleeping arrangement. This bed is even more comfortable than when we sampled it days ago. Not only is it more than capable of sleeping four comfortably, but it is firm with a pillow top mattress cover.
Storm, India and I all assemble with our backs against the headboard, Storm in between India and me. It's as if we are three children waiting for our parents to tuck us in.
"Are you comfortable?" India asks me.
"Yes, very," I say.
I clap my hands, rub my hands together, then spin my eyes towards Storm and India. I smile. "Now, let the orgy begin," I say, half-heartedly kidding and the other half actually meaning it.
"It's not that type of party," Storm reminds me.
"I know," I say. "I just felt I needed to say it."
I remind myself that this evening is all about research,
research for my book. Still the same, that doesn't mean I can't have fun along the way as I'm inundated with curiosity.
A commercial for the new Batman movie appears on the television, and I am mysteriously pegged with the question: Does Batman wear underwear?
"Do you think Batman wears underwear?" I ask Storm and India.
"Sure, he does," India answers.
"I never really thought about," Storm says, "but, if I had to guess, I would say, no. He doesn't."
In the midst of our silly debate, Rome makes another appearance. He wears his signature Fedora hat and a pair of white Calvin Klein pajamas pants and carries with him a tray of four tinted champagne glasses and a bottle of Dom Perignon champagne.
"What did I miss?" Rome asks and then fills our frosted glasses with champagne.
"We were just discussing whether or not Batman wears underwear?" I say to Rome.
"Absolutely not," Rome says. "Batman is too cool to wear underwear. Now, Robin, that's a different story."
"And you're certain of this," Storm questions him.
"Absolutely," Rome responds, and then drops down at the foot of the bed, facing the three of us. He holds a champagne glass in hand.
"So, ladies, I thought we might celebrate the new member of our special family with a toast." Rome directs his attention towards me. "Even if it's just for one night, we're happy you're here with us. Isn't that right ladies?"
Both Storm and India agree with him.
"I am one lucky man," Rome says, shooting a look of admiration at all three of us. "I have three of the most wonderful women… here with me… right now… in my home."
Basking in the company of Rome is equivalent to a twenty-hour buzz. He's zero calories, and he makes me feel so good.
"So, with that in mind," Rome says to us all, "Let's lift our glasses and toast to..." Rome pauses for thought, then says, "Let us toast to the best summer ever."
We clank our glasses and down the hatch it goes.
"Ladies, I wish you all many, many good things and more love than you can stand."
Say what you will about Rome Nicki, but after connecting all the dots, he's just your non-average, egotistical, sweetheart, with heaps of class.
"Thank you, Rome," I say. "That is very sweet."
"Rome does sweet things like this all the time," India says, looking at Rome, "isn't that right, Rome?"
"There may be some truth to that," Rome says as he stands to leave. "Excuse me, ladies."
As soon as Rome departs into the next room, I ask India and Storm, "Where is he going now?"
"Who knows?" Storm says.
"He's always up to something," India says.
"I have been meaning to ask you, India," I say, "how did you and Rome meet?"
"Oh, that's easy," India says. "I was working as a doorperson at the Sunset Resort Hotel. Rome saw me, approached me, told me he liked what he saw, gave me his card and told me to call him."
"Really? Just like that?"
"That's how it happened," India says.
With Rome in the other room and it being my first night in the family sleeping room, I have many questions twirling around inside my head.
"Are you ladies at all concerned that even after Rome invites me into the family sleeping room that he may might, one day in the future, invite yet another woman into the family as well?"
"Rome has made it perfectly clear that three is as far as he will go. Trust me, we had this conversation with him already," India admits. "Besides, three is his lucky number anyway."
Rome soon returns, bringing with him three Tiffany bags and passes them out to us like it's Christmas day.
My eyes light up as this is the second gift from Rome in a matter of a few days.
"This is just a little something for the very special women in my life," Rome says.
There Rome goes again with the assumption that I am now part of his permanent harem, and I am not. It's not that I am offended, but he is reading more into my decision to spend one night than he should.
I am first to open my bag and pluck from it a beautiful white silver Dome watch and it is immaculate.
"Oh, this is gorgeous," I say, then quickly wrap it around my wrist.
India and Storm also have been gifted with a Dome watch as well, only Storm's watch is burgundy and India's is navy.
If wonderful gifts like these are to be expected, then I might have to reconsider my position about becoming a full-fledge family member in the House of Rome.
"Are you ladies, happy," Rome asks us all, and of course, we all answer with an obvious yes.
I finish off my expensive Dom Perignon while Rome sits at the foot of the bed, facing us.
"I understand that number three is your lucky number," I say to Rome. "How's that?"
"I was born January 3rd. My first paycheck in the film industry was for $300,000. The first film I produced earned $30 million, the address of my home is 333 Lost Ranger Drive, and I now live with three beautiful women."
I guess the number three is his lucky number.
"I forgot to tell you," India says to Rome with a devilish look on her face. "Before you came in here, Thursday asked us when the orgy would begin."
Rome peers at me, seemingly amused. "Really? Is that what you want?"
I smile. I am embarrassed." No, it's not what I want. I was just being silly."
"You have never been silly before," India says."
"She's right, Thursday, you have never been silly before," Storm says.
"What are you talking about?" I say. "I'm silly all the time."
"No, you're not," India says.
"Well, I can be. Anyway, like I said, I was just playing around."
"You be sure to let us know if you change your mind," Rome says. "We might be able to assist you."
"That's right," India says. "We may be able to assist you."
Is this not the kinkiest place in town or what?
"It has been my understanding that nothing like that ever goes on in this room anyway," I say to them.
"Your assumptions are correct," Rome says. "But, and this is important, nothing remains the same forever. I say that to say that that scenario may have been the case yesterday, but today is a whole different story."
At the foot of the bed, Rome sips the balance of his champagne and then rises to a standing position. "Now, before we get comfortable and drift off into wonderland, I have something very important to share with all of you."
Rome shuts off the television and stands at the foot of the bed as if he's about to deliver a poignant speech.
With my back against the headboard and my eyes glued to Rome, I sit up straight, eager to hear what he has to say.
"Many years ago, when I was in my last year of college, my psychology professor said something to me that always stuck with me regarding self-esteem in women."
If Rome didn't have my attention a moment earlier, he definitely has it now.
"He said that eighty percent of a woman's self-worth is defined by how the man in her life treats her," Rome says. "Now, whether or not his theory is true or not, I'm assuming that it is, and for that reason, it is absolutely imperative that you ladies… all of you… always be treated well, if not by me, then with any other man in your future lives."
I listen to Rome speak, and for the first time, I totally comprehend why India is so enamored with him. It's difficult not to be. I have always been insanely attracted to him, but tonight he's revealing to me that he's much more than just a cute face, a good lay and a bag of money. I'm not saying that he's perfect, but as of this moment, if there is such a line between almost perfect and perfect, he's awfully close to the perfect side.
"You have never said this to us before," Storm says. "Why now?"
"I'm not sure. It's just great seeing all of you in my bed, looking breathtaking, and I just want the best for all of you."
A large silence hovers over the room. Rome's words have provided us with much to digest.
"So,
are we in agreement to never let a man treat you like anything other than a princess?" Rome asks us all. But before any of us can answer, Rome continues. "And most of all, don't ever let a man Ray Rice you."
We all nod in agreement. All this time I thought Ray Rice was a noun, and I'm just now finding out that Ray Rice is a verb.
Rome crawls up on the bed and slides in between India and Storm, leaving me on the side of Storm. My feelings are a little hurt. I so much wanted Rome next to me, but given how sensitive India is, and how I'm the new girl in town, I don't make a fuss about it.
"I was on Twitter the other day," Rome says. "And this lady posted a tweet: Let me be your heroin, the thing that makes you feel so good, and I like that. It resonated with me because that's what I want to be to you ladies: Your heroin, the thing that makes you feel so good."
I devour Rome's delectable words whole, leaving nothing behind. I sigh. It's not because I'm bored, but because his words are so sweet, I could cry. It obvious I'm not the only one moved by his sentiments as this surreal moment has silenced all of us. For moments on end, no one says a word, and then Rome breaks the silence.
"Now, may I have a kiss?" he asks us all.
One by one, we all reward him with a kiss on the lips before Rome reaches over to the night table and clicks out the light.
So far sleeping in the family sleeping room is a real treat, definitely something worth talking about and writing about.
I scoot down into the bed and bring the covers up to my neck with a warm smile glowing across my face. One thing is certain. There is a lot of love in this house.
Of my short time living in the House of Rome, the Tuesdays with Morrie moment will be remembered as the highlight of my entire stay, making tonight a very good night.
