by P. R. Paige
On my way to Perrin's penthouse, I make a brief stop at The Sugar Bowl, a grocery store that specializes in everything less sugar, catering to the low carb lifestyle. On my list of items to purchase are:
Chicken breasts
Corn
Peas
Lemons
Green beans
Onions
Mushrooms
Green peppers
Spaghetti
Ragu sauce
Graham crackers
Oolong tea
Corn flakes
Eggs
Lactose-free milk
Turkey
Whole wheat bread
Oranges
Apples
Carrying two shopping bags of groceries, I enter Perrin's Penthouse, exhausted from the summer heat. After I wolf down a cold bottle of water, I stash everyway away in its rightful place. His kitchen is scented with fresh lemons as I have just made a pitcher of lemonade. I dice onions, mushrooms and green peppers for the spaghetti lunch I am preparing for him while he sits at the table reading his email messages on his iPhone.
Of course I have to tell him all about my new life in the House of Rome.
"How were you able to sleep with his pointer against your back like that?" Perrin asks me.
"That's just it. I didn't sleep," I say with a smile, my eyes blinking nonstop. "I was just so turned on. Oh… My… God."
Perrin turns his phone over and gifts me his full attention. "It sounds like you're still turned on right now."
I pull my hair away from my face and relax my neck. "What's the clue?" I ask him.
"It's that buzz in your eye that tells it all. Now that I think about, I'm not sure I should have you that close to my food in your unstable condition."
"What do you think?" I ask him. "That something might spill out?"
"It might."
I wipe my hands on the hand towel and flop down next to Perrin at the counter. I am buzzing with creative ideas. "I was thinking about telling Rome how I feel."
"And how exactly do you feel?" he asks me, his beady little eyes staring back at me.
I don't speak right away. I'm afraid of what I am about to say, then I just say it. "I think I might be in love with him."
"Is it love or lust?"
"A little bit of both," I say, collecting my thoughts. "You want to hear something so funny and even more ridiculous?"
"You know I do."
I shift my head back, close my eyes, enjoying the memories of the night before. "I want Rome to choose me and give up his other two ladyloves."
Perrin turns away from me as if looking at me is too painful, then directs his attention to me. "Now that is funny."
"You don't think he'll do it?" I ask him.
"No," Perrin says. "Why would he?"
Perrin is probably right, but I refuse to abandon the idea. "Well, it can't hurt. I'm going to ask him anyway."
There are two things that I want from Rome.
First, I want him to make love to me. Tonight. That is first and primary. Then, I want him to drop India and Storm and choose me exclusively.
Am I psychotic or what?
No, I'm not psychotic. I have balls.
I am asking for a lot, but it's what I want. Now, whether I obtain what I want is a whole other story, but I'm going for it, and nothing is going to stop me.
I arrive at the House of Rome, bringing with me three boxes of Ghirardelli chocolates for the girls and for Rome. When I step through the kitchen, Storm is adding highlights to India's hair while at the same time right before them is a TV on the counter playing a sexy comedy. It's a scene of a man in a restaurant, placing an order with a waitress. He orders two large breasts and a large ass. Last time I checked, ass was not on any menu that I had ever seen.
"Seriously, ladies, but isn't it a little early for that kind of TV?" I ask them.
"Of course, it is," India says, "but that never stopped us before."
I brought you a little something," I say as I hand them each a box of Ghirardelli chocolates.
"Thanks, Thursday," India says.
"Are you hoping that if you give me chocolate, I'll let you sleep next to Rome again tonight," Storm says. "Because it's not going to happen."
"No, I gave it to you because I like you, both of you."
"That's good," Storm says, "because I'm sleeping next to Rome tonight."
"Okay, I get it," I say.
I guess it's safe to say Storm was well aware that I had stolen her spot last night, and unfortunately for me, it's not likely to happen again.
"Is Rome in his office," I ask them.
"He's in there reading scripts or something," India says.
The time has come.
The time for me to barge into Rome's office and tell him how I feel.
If Rome were a flavor, it would be a scrumptious white chocolate that taste delectable and makes you feel even better. If he were a color, it would be a very eye-catching orange, warm, inviting and easy on the eyes. If he were a fruit, it would be a firm ripe banana, something that goes in hard and comes out soft. These are the thoughts that occupy my mind as I rethink confessing to him how I really feel.
Then it hits me.
The decision is made.
I'm doing it.
I skedaddle my way towards Rome's office, which is on the main level opposite the living room. I am balanced and unafraid. Well, balanced maybe, but I am definitely afraid. With a box of chocolates in hand, I poke my head into his office, and my eyes are drawn to the large stacks of movie scripts lined against the wall. With his feet up on the desk, Rome sits in a huge emperor-like leather chair, behind his desk reading.
Glancing up, he notices me at the door, and a slow sexy smile spreads across his face. I'm utterly speechless as my insides melt. He is without a doubt the most handsome man on the planet.
I breeze towards him, moving with cat-like elegance.
"Hello, Beautiful," he says to me. I am mesmerized by his three-days-without-shaving look, his designer look that I like so much. I feel woozy and unbalanced. I could easily fall over, but I don't. I stand strong and continue in his direction. His sexually potent smile activates my sexual thirst, and I shift my eyes upwards. I'm just too freaking attracted to this man. His five-star looks should not have this type of effect on me, but they do. I want to jump him right now, but I don't do that. I'm a lady.
Against my better judgement, I return my attention to him, and my legs give out. I collapse to the floor, dropping the Ghirardelli chocolates.
Rome rushes to my aid and helps me up. "Are you okay?" Was it something that you ate? Something that you drank?"
"Something that I looked at," I say to him. My head is spinning. I am disoriented and, most of all, overheated.
"Are you sure you're okay?" he helps me over to the sofa and fans me with his hand.
"I'm okay, just a little hot." I assure him. He then seats herself beside me.
My eyes search the room for the box of chocolates. "I brought you some chocolate. I'm sure they're around here somewhere."
"I'm not much of a chocolate person," he says to me, "but your heart is definitely in the right place."
"I thought everyone loved chocolate," I say to him, fiddling with my bangs.
"Not everyone."
How could I not have known that he didn't like chocolate?
Sitting straight up, I compose myself and try and exude some authoritative energy. "Do you think I could talk to you for a minute?"
"For you, more than a minute." He rewards me his full attention and I like it. A lot. It's a good thing I'm already sitting down, just in case I have another episode and kneel over.
"I hope nothing is wrong," he says to me.
"No, not at all."
"Why don't you tell me what's on that pretty mind of yours."
My throat feels parched, and I take a deep breath.
Am I really going to do this?
"I really like being here with
you and the ladies," I say to him.
"Good, but I'm sensing that there is something else."
He snakes his hand on top of mine, gently massaging my fingers and I can hardly breathe.
I gasp. Where is the darn oxygen in the room?
"You look a little flustered," he says, placing his hand on my forehead. "Are you okay?"
The perspiration above my lip is giving me away no doubt.
"I'm okay."
"What is it?" he asks.
I swallow hard and open my mouth, hoping that the words I want to say actually come out. "I have two things I would like to ask of you."
"Oh really," he says with a soft smile. He gifts the back of my hand with a kiss. "Tell me more."
I lean back on the sofa, close my eyes and look upwards. For what I am about to say cannot be said looking directly at him. "I want to make love to you, Rome. I mean all the time."
For moments on end, he says nothing. I shift my eyes in his direction, but he's not talking. His expression is sweet and warm. The long silence frightens me. I'm afraid, afraid of what he might say now.
We're both looking at each other, but no one is talking. My breathing is slow and steady, and I don't know if I can take the not talking any longer.
The silence is soon broken when I ask, "Will you do it?"
"Will I make love to you?" he asks me.
"Yes."
"When?"
"Now. Today. Forever."
"If my memory serves me correctly, you told me that one of the conditions of you moving in here was that our relationship would be strictly platonic," he reminds me.
Somehow, I knew he would throw that in my face, but so what. "I know I said that, but I have changed my mind."
More silence.
"So, is it going to happen?" I ask him.
"I don't know yet. I'll have to think about it."
Did he just say he didn't know? That he would think about it?
What am I?
Some woman he just met at the grocery store?
"What do you mean you will think about it?" I ask him.
"Just what I said."
In a huff, I lurch myself upward and head towards the door, my arms folded.
He rushes towards me, stops me in my tracks. "I didn't say no, Thursday. I just said I would think about it."
I turn to him. He's amused by all of this.
But at whose expense?
Mine. That's who.
"You said that you had two requests of me. What is the other one?"
"I'm not sure if I should tell you now," I say.
"You have to tell me."
"Why?"
"Because I want you to."
I have shamed myself. Maybe telling him everything else can't be much worse, and I blurt it out. "I don't want to share you with the girls anymore."
Rome smiles softly. "What about everything we talked about?"
"I don't care about any of that," I say, "I just want you."
"I tried the one-on-one before, and it doesn't work for me."
"It could work for you if you gave it a chance," I protest to him. "How does this type current lifestyle or yours really correlate with having a real family?"
"I consider what I have with you and the ladies to be a real family."
"And kids, how does that factor in?" I ask him.
"I'm not exactly sure how children will fit into all of this, but for now, I happen to like things the way that they are."
There is a long silence. We are both waiting for the other to speak. My argument is useless. He is never going to change his mind on this subject, and it was naïve of me to even attempt such a feat.
Once again, I head for the door, my back to him.
"Thursday, I am very flattered. I know it took a lot of courage for you to come in here and tell me all of this."
At this moment, I'm no longer thinking about sex as my heart is broken.
"I just didn't expect to care about you as much as I do now," I say to him, right before I disappear out the door.
Episode Fourteen
Back in my room with my back against the door, I don't move for a long time. I contemplate whether or not I will sleep in my own bed tonight or in the family sleeping room. In need of a sympathetic ear, I find a seat on the floor against my bed and call my sister Kirby.
"I made such a fool of myself this afternoon," I say to her. "I was actually bold enough to ask Rome to leave Storm and India and just be with me."
"And what did he say?"
"He said no, of course."
"I hope you are writing this in your book," she says to me.
"I was thinking about scraping the whole thing and getting the hell out of this house, away from everything."
"You can't leave now," she says, "It's just getting interesting."
"Interesting for you. Heartbreaking for me."
There's a long silence between us, then, "You're not… in love with this man, are you?" she asks me.
I don't answer right away, then, "Maybe, I am. I like being here with him and the girls. It really is a lot of fun, but at the end of the day, I don't want to share him anymore."
"I bet your other two roommates probably feel the same."
If they do, I wouldn't know it. They both seem so contented with everything."
"You might be surprised to learn that they probably feel just like you do. You should ask them," my sister suggests.
"I'm not going to ask them that. Besides, how does that help me?" I change the phone to my left ear and release a sigh of frustration.
"So, what's the plan?" my sister asks me.
"I don't know. I just don't know."
I end my call with my sister Kirby and slide into bed, still wearing my clothes. I lay on my back and stare up at the ceiling.
How did I end up here?
In love and living with two women and a man?
I retrace the decisions I made that led me to where I am today when I detect someone entering my room. I thrust myself forward and see Rome. My heart skips a beat. With an eagle eye, I watch him lock the door, then remove his shoes and pants. He approaches me with a very determined look, and nudges me back on the bed.
When he climbs on top of me, I am happy and yet confused.
Is he here to commit himself solely to me?
Or is he here just to sex me up real good like he did India the other day?
My inquiring mind wants to know, needs to know.
His hot breath arouses me and the weight of his body on mine makes me feel safe and warm.
"Why are you in here, Rome," I ask him.
"I'm here for you."
Rome presses his lips to mine, but I turn away. He won't award me what I want, and I resist him.
"You can't always get everything that you want," I say to him.
Before I can elaborate any further, he whispers in my ear, "Listen to me," he says in his soothing voice. "I want to tell you something."
His whispers intrigue me, and I look at him, anticipating his words, wanting him more and more.
Our eyes are locked on each other. "What is it you want to tell me?" I ask him.
"An hour ago, you told me that you wanted me to make love to you, and I told you that I would think about it." He showers me with soft kisses on my lips… on my cheek… on my neck. "Well, I thought about it."
His provocative and straight-to-the-point tone seduce me to no end, and I don't resist him anymore. I am pudding in his hands. Again and again, he kisses me, and I close my eyes in enjoyment.
He turns my face toward his and stares at me, then kisses me harder. We kiss for so long, and I worry I might pass out from exhaustion.
After my second sexual tryst with Rome, I need time to think about what is happening, what I want and what I should do about my difficult situation. I relax in the tub for forty-five minutes while I sip a glass of lemonade. Sighs of release escape from my mouth. I am pleased, and I am satisfied. A part of me wants to move out becaus
e I cannot have my way, but the smart part of me knows that moving out will bring me even less of what I want: Rome Nicki.
I sleep well that night in the family sleeping room. Not just because Rome sexed me up real good, but because, at this time in my life, I like where I am. I have a job that I really like, and I like my living arrangement despite everything to the contrary.
When I awake the next morning, Rome is already up, which is the norm. I am first out of bed, which is also the norm.
Down the stairs and into the kitchen, Rome is preparing scrambled eggs at the stove.
"Good morning, Beautiful," he says to me as I enter the kitchen.
"Good morning," I say and then take a seat at the table. I smile as I'm still savoring the benefits of our sexual encounter the night before.
I have brought my journal with me to write in while I wait for breakfast. I have just put pen to paper when Rome approaches me, bends down and plants a kiss on my forehead.
I look up at him, flattered. "What was that for?"
"That was for last night," he says, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," I say, wondering why he is thanking me. But I don't push the subject. I move on. "May I have some tea?" I ask Rome. Of course, I can fetch it for myself, but I like it when it does it for me.
"For you? Anything." He sets a cup of Argo black tea in front of me.
"Anything?" I question him.
"Yes, anything."
"Okay," I say to him, "how about we run away together get married in Vegas?"
"Well, almost anything."
I suspected as much.
I have to be out of my mind to think that Rome would ever sever this magnanimous lifestyle to be with just one woman. That is simply not likely to happen, at least not any time soon anyway.
India is second to join us at the kitchen table. She accosts Rome from behind and wraps her arms around him, holding him tight. The butterflies in my stomach run rampant while I witness a perky India feeling up my man, the man I just made love to only so many hours ago.
If she had wrapped her arms around him any other day, it would not have perturbed me so much, but since Rome and I just made love the night before, it is more than my eyes can handle.
"So, how did everyone sleep last night?" Rome asks the both of us.
"I slept wonderfully," I say.
