Indulge

by Liv Morris

  Does it matter, though? That is what I wanted last night.

  I yank off the wrapper and brush my teeth quickly, trying to not think about the other women. I rinse out my mouth and place the toothbrush back on the countertop. I take a few seconds to look at myself in the mirror. I cringe at the sight of my makeup. I look awful. I take a quick second to fix the smudges of black eyeliner and mascara from underneath my eyes. Once I think I look decent enough, I turn to the bathroom door.

  As I open the door to the bathroom, I take in his room. There’s a big window on the far wall, but it only gives out minimal light due to the dark brown curtains. The walls are painted beige, and his four poster bed is dark oak with dark brown satin sheets and comforter. There’s a night stand on both sides of the bed, and a long dresser on the right. As I walk farther into the bedroom, I see a huge flat screen TV hanging on the wall behind me with an entertainment system underneath it.

  Slade is still passed out in the same spot. I stand there and let my eyes roam over his body once again. I have to tighten my legs together as my need for him returns, and I feel a pain in my chest at the thought of him turning me down last night. I want to ask him what it is about me he doesn’t like, but I can’t. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to know the answer.

  I take in a deep breath, go to the side of the bed and dig my phone out of my purse. I need to get the hell out of here. I don’t know what the hell is going on with me. Who sleeps with a man they don’t know? Or worse, begs them to sleep with her! Not me.

  I pull up the number for the cab company that I use for drunk customers at Larry’s, but just stare at it. Can I just leave his house after last night and get away with it? Act like it never happened? Can I avoid him? He knows where I work. Shit, he even knows where I live.

  I shake my head to myself. No, there’s no way around this. His brother is one of my best friends. I clear out my phone and place it back in my purse. I may have been a drunken idiot last night, but the one thing I am not, is a coward. I’m an adult, and I will take responsibility for my actions, no matter how irrational they are.

  I walk to the bedroom door on a mission to find the kitchen. I’m starving, hung over, and pissed off at my behavior last night. I need to do something to make up for what happened outside the bar; guess cooking him breakfast will have to do.

  I didn’t pay any attention to the house last night, so I have no idea which way the kitchen is. I turn right, and after a few steps I come to a door. It’s closed, so I don’t open it. I walk a few more steps and come to a room on my left. It’s open, so I peek inside. It looks to be a theatre room. It has a rather large white leather couch and the biggest TV screen I have ever seen in my life hanging on the wall in front of the couch.

  I pull the door back to where it was cracked then continue walking. I come to the end of the hallway and notice another door to the left. I push it open to reveal a set of stairs. It must be a basement. I take a few more steps and to the right is the kitchen. I walk in and stop in awe. It’s huge, with all stainless steel appliances and a big kitchen island.

  I started to go through the fridge and pantry, trying to find something to cook us for breakfast. I find things to make biscuits, gravy and sausage. I find the coffee bags and the coffee pot over in the corner. I start to make the coffee, thinking it might help calm my nerves from last night.

  I can’t stop thinking about last night. What am I going to do? I don’t know! Does it even matter that I don’t have a clue? Like I said once; this is what he does. He uses women, then throws them away. Why should I care what did or didn’t happen between us? I turn the coffee pot on and start looking around for his pans. I turn on the stove top and start cooking as my mind keeps replaying last night.

  It’s not long before I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up; it’s crazy how in tune my body is to his since last night. It’s like my body is drawn to him now. He hasn’t said anything, but I know he’s watching. I continue to cook, wondering how I’m going to get out of here. Maybe he’ll just take me home right away. Maybe I’m putting too much thought into this, and he wants me to leave just as badly. I can’t help but feel disappointed that he wants me to leave. Does that mean I want to stay? Of course I want to stay!

  “Good morning,” he finally says to me.

  Thank God!

  “Morning.”

  Keeping my back to him I reach over to pour him a cup of coffee, but stop when I feel him come up behind me. I’m still wearing his t-shirt so I can feel the sweatpants he’s wearing against my bare legs and his t-shirt against my arms. He wraps his hands around my waist, pulling me against his chest, and my heart starts to pick up speed.

  “Now,” he whispers as he leans down to speak in my ear, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Or am I going to have to make you tell me?” He pulls me further in to him, his hard length pushing up against my back.

  A shiver runs through my body at his words. I would love to know how he plans on making me tell him the problem, but of course I can’t ask him that.

  “It’s nothing.” I flip the sausage.

  “Bullshit,” he says so softly that it’s intimidating.

  His arms leaves my waist as he reaches over to turn off the stove. He slides both hands over my shoulders and up the sides of my neck. I take in a shaky breath as he slides them into my hair, pulling it back and off of my neck. He pulls it into one hand, then tugs my head backwards and to the right, keeping a tight hold on it. His other hand comes around my neck and grabs my chin, keeping my head in place. I can’t pull away, and my heart is racing so fast I know he can feel it. I close my eyes and just let my body feel his hands on me, but he tightens the hold he has in my hair, making me whimper.

  I open my eyes.

  “You’re lying. Tell me what’s wrong, Angel. Did I hurt you last night? I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

  I get so lost in those blue eyes that it takes me a moment to comprehend what he just said. He thinks he hurt me? Why does he think that? Last night was wonderful. Well he was wonderful. Me, not so much.

  “I….um, I’m embarrassed.” I feel my throat start to clog up. Why do I feel so vulnerable right now?

  His eyes go wide. “Of what?”

  “Everything I did last night. Slapping you...begging you...how I sucked at, you know.” I can’t even say it.

  He lets go of my hair and neck, turning me around to face him. I frown at the sight of him having a shirt on. I place my hands on his hips as I look up at him.

  “First of all, I deserved the slap.” His knuckles graze my cheek softly. “The begging, well, don’t think I didn’t want you, Angel.” He cups my cheek in his hand.

  “You want me?” God, could I sound anymore pathetic? I let out a shaky breath.

  “Oh, Angel.” I love that! “How could I not? I can’t explain it, but you make me feel something. Something I can’t describe.” He runs a hand through my hair. “I want to get to know you. I want to take you out to dinner tonight. Will you let me do that?”

  My head is spinning. Can I trust him? He always treats girls like they mean nothing. Why will I be any different? That’s what I want with him, though, right? Wasn’t that what I was begging him for last night? A one night stand?

  I take a deep breath. It’s just dinner. He’s not asking you to marry him. If it’s only sex, then it’s only sex. No big deal, right?

  “You didn’t suck at it. Not in the least. It was amazing. You were amazing.” He kisses my forehead then leans his forehead against mine.

  I feel his phone vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. He pulls it out and scowls, reading a text message before he puts his phone back in his pocket without responding.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah, nothing to worry about.” He gives me a smile. “Stay with me tonight.”

  It wasn’t a question. I start shaking my head no, but he reaches up and tightens his hands in my hair. I whimper as my legs go weak.

  “I want
to hear that perfect mouth of yours scream my name tonight.” He whispers against my lips as his baby blue eyes search my face. My eyes close and he pulls my head back, placing his lips on my neck and trailing tender kisses up to my jaw line. “I want to feel your body shake after I make you come.”

  Liquid pours between my legs as the memory of last night plays through my head. “Why wait?” I say breathlessly as my hands fumble to find his sweatpants.

  His hands release my hair and reach down to grab my hands, pulling them behind me where he pins them to my back. “Do you want me to make you come again, Angel?” he whispers into my ear.

  His words and hot breath on my ear cause me to shiver. “Yes.”

  “Want me to remind you what’s mine?”

  My breath catches in my throat. “Show me.”

  “Not until tonight.” He releases my arms and stands back, looking down at me. I look at him through half lidded eyes as I throb between my legs. He just did it again! Is he playing with me? He leans down and places his lips on mine. Game or not, I am going to take whatever he is going to give me.

  He pulls away, leaving my breathless. “Now, let’s have some of that breakfast you were making. It smells amazing.”

  I turn around and place my hands on the counter, taking a few deep breaths. I have no idea what the hell is going on, but I need to stay on track. I grab the coffee pot. “How…..how do you like your coffee?”

  “Black,” he answers as he sits down at the island, clearly not affected by teasing me.

  I smile, trying to act the same. I never did have a very good poker face. “Same as me.”

  I make his plate and lay it down in front of him. “How long have you lived here?” I ask, looking around the kitchen. I turn to fix myself a plate. I need to stay busy. My panties are dripping wet, and my sex is throbbing.

  “Two years.” He takes a bite of sausage.

  “It’s a beautiful house.” It’s a tad big for a single man, but I don’t say that. Holly had said the same thing about the house that I’m renting.

  “I like it,” he nods as he takes a drink of is coffee.

  “Is your favorite color brown?”

  He laughs. “No, it’s black. Why?”

  I shrug. “Just wondering. I’ve seen a lot of browns in your house.” I sit down across from him, and he looks up to me through his eyelashes with a smile on his face.

  “Not everyone decorates their house in their favorite color.”

  I blush. “I forgot that you have seen the inside of my house.”

  “It’s very…feminine.” His smile broadens.

  I laugh. “I know. I went a little overboard. I was just excited to decorate a place however I wanted to.” I shrug, picking through my plate and not really eating any of it. I still have a headache, and now I’m horny as hell.

  He puts his fork down and looks up at me. “What do you mean?”

  “My apartment back in Dallas was decorated in pink. Then, when we got a house here, Jax wanted nothing to do with the color. When I moved out, I just packed my clothes and went shopping for all new stuff. Anything pink, I bought.”

  “I see.” He stares at me. “Do you go out to the bars a lot?”

  “When I first moved here, I stayed home. Then, towards the end of Jax’s and my relationship, I went out a few times with him. He would leave me sitting at our table alone while he mingled with his friends, and then he would accuse me of flirting with any guy who came over to visit with me.” Then I have a flash back of last night.

  “I wasn’t that way,” I whisper.

  “What way?” I look up at him, and he has his head tilted to the side.

  “I didn’t dance and hang over random men when I was in a relationship.”

  His brows furrow and he looks taken back for a second. “I wasn’t thinking that.” He shakes his head. “Not at all.”

  I nod. “Anyway, I love to go out. Holly and I have been out several times.”

  “What do you prefer to drink when you go out?”

  “Wine is my favorite thing to drink, but I also like Long Island Iced Tea. I’m not much of a liquor girl, though.” I smile.

  He chuckles and leans back in his chair. “You could have fooled me. That first night I met you, you drank all those tequila shots.”

  “I said I prefer wine. Doesn’t mean I don’t drink liquor, especially if the situation calls for it.” He smiles a big smile. “So, do you go out a lot?”

  “Yes,” he laughs. “All the time.”

  “I’m sure your job is stressful. Going out is a good way to reduce stress.”

  He looks at me for a few seconds, his face expressionless, then nods. I look down at my food and continue to push it around, not all that hungry.

  “Would you like a tour of the house?”

  I smile. “Absolutely. Just let me wash these dishes.” I lean over the island to pick up his plate, but he grabs my hand.

  “Leave them. I’ll get them later.”

  I go to argue, but he sets his mouth in a hard line and his baby blue eyes bore into mine. I give him a big smile and nod, not wanting to argue.

  The first place he takes me is downstairs to show me, what he calls “the man cave.” Then he takes me to the living room, and I laugh as we walk into it.

  “What’s so funny?” he asks, amused.

  “More brown.”

  He has two brown leather couches and a brown leather recliner with a dark brown wooden coffee table. Over in the left corner is a fireplace and a large TV on the wall. There are no pictures or personal items; it looks as if he just moved in and there should be boxes in the garage to unpack.

  We walk through a hallway on the other side of the living room. There are three bedrooms with white walls, their own bathrooms and walk in closets. They all include identical queen size beds with white sheets and comforter.

  “Did you want all these rooms to be white?” I ask as we come back down the hallway to his bedroom.

  “Yes. I’m not much of a decorator,” he laughs.

  “I see that.” I go over to the side of the bed where my clothes are on the floor. I bend over and pick them up.

  “Would you like to wear something of mine home?”

  “Thanks that would be great.”

  He pulls out a pair of sweat pants from his dresser, then walks into his closet and comes back out with a pair of his flip flops, which look way too big for me. I laugh. “I can wear my high heels.”

  He shakes his head. “Wear the flip flops. I don’t want you to trip. These sweatpants are very long, and you will for sure trip if you wear your ten inch heels with them.”

  “Six inches.”

  He tilts his head to the side looking confused.

  “The heels. They’re six inches.”

  He laughs as he walks into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

  I take a deep breath and quickly put his pants and flip flops on. I’m having a hard time breathing now that we are back in his room. He wants me to come back here tonight. And that thought excites me and terrifies me.

  “Angel?”

  I look up. Slade is standing in front of me wearing a tight, black cotton t-shirt, dark blue jeans and tennis shoes. His hair is standing in every direction and looks sexy as hell.

  “You ready?” I ask, giving him a smile.

  Slade nods, and places his hand out to me. I place my hand in his, and he pulls me off the bed and to his body. My body breaks out in goose bumps as he places a hand under my chin and lifts my face up to his, searching my eyes. He brings his lips down to mine, and it’s a soft and slow kiss, stealing what little breath I have left.

  He doesn’t say anything as he pulls away. My mind is so foggy as we walk out of the room that I don’t even realize what we’re doing until I’m looking out of the window of his car as he drives back to my house. I roll down the window just a bit, needing some fresh air.

  “Do you smoke?”

  “Excuse me?” I turn to look at him.


  He nods to the window. “Do you smoke?”

  “No, sorry.” I roll the window back up. “I was just letting in some fresh air.” I smile.

  “It’s no big deal.” He rolls it back down a bit for me, then cracks his window as well. “It’s a beautiful day outside.”

  I look at him as he pulls a dark pair of aviators down from his visor and places them on his face. They make him look even sexier. How is that possible? I clear my throat.

  “Do you smoke?”

  He glances over at me with a smirk on his face. God, does it do things to me to see him with those glasses on. I have to cross my legs and sit up straighter in my seat.

  “No.” He turns back to the road and shakes his head, “I never wanted to smoke.”

  I smile. I’ve always hated the smell of cigarette smoke.

  He pulls down my street. It’s weird that I don’t have to give him directions. He’s only taken me home once, but he already has it memorized.

  “How long have you lived in this house?”

  I watch as he places his wrist on top of the steering wheel and leans back into his seat getting more comfortable as he easily guides the car. His other hand shifts as he slows coming up to my driveway.

  “Uh, the night you took me home from the bar was my first night to stay here.”

  He pulls into my driveway and looks over at me. I start nibbling on my bottom lip as I get nervous, looking at his blank expression, his eyes still hidden behind his shades. He reaches over to me and places his thumb on my lip, pulling on it as I release it from between my lips.

  “Don’t do that,” he says hoarsely, placing his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me over to him, placing his lips on mine. “It reminds me of my cock in your mouth, and how fucking great it felt to have those soft lips wrapped around me.” He presses his lips to mine and kisses me roughly.

  He pulls away slowly. “Sorry,” I whisper.

  “Don’t be. I’ve decided I like having the reminder.” He gives me a reassuring smile that I can’t help but return. “I’ll be back to pick you up at six, sound okay?”