Roommates (Soulmates #1)

by Hazel Kelly

  "Oops. My bad." I smiled and slid my hand down her stomach, hoping to reach between her legs.

  She crossed them. "What did I just say, you rascal?"

  "I don't know if I can make art when I'm-"

  She looked over her shoulder and raised her eyebrows. "When you're what?"

  "About to tear through my pants."

  "Try," she said, her eyes pleading. "For me."

  I sighed. Then I stood and stepped up to the table, angling the grey sheet towards her. For a moment, I just admired the way the summer sunshine peaked through the blinds and highlighted the subtle curves of her back.

  But as my dick strained in my pants, it was easy to understand why doing this never occurred to me before. And yet I didn't want to let her down, especially since she was right.

  I had used her as a muse without her permission- more times than she would ever know. The least I could do was restrain myself long enough to get the shape of her back right along with the flicks at the ends of her hair.

  And as she materialized on the page, my desire for her only grew.

  "How's it going?" she asked after a few minutes of silence.

  “Honestly?” I wove the cutter through the linoleum, keeping my eyes on her. "I think this might be my masterpiece."

  Chapter 43: Jenny

  I was thrilled to have his eyes on my body.

  I could almost feel his intense focus burning my skin, while the only sounds I could hear were my shallow breathing and the occasional sweep of his hand as he knocked the grey shavings to the floor.

  I couldn't wait to see what he'd done. To have him sculpt my curves in the grey block was almost as exciting as having his hands on me, and as he worked, my anticipation grew.

  Of course, the longer I sat under his gaze, the keener I became to reward his efforts.

  "You know this is just the block I'll use to make the prints, right?" he asked. "It's not done after this."

  "For today it is," I said, flicking my eyes up at him.

  A subtle smile crossed his face, and a spark caught fire in my core.

  "I think it would be better if your tits were in it."

  "Too bad," I said. "I'm the client, and this is how I want it."

  He raised his eyebrows. "The client? I didn't realize I was going to get paid."

  "Handsomely," I said, my eyes flashing at him again.

  "Don't torture me, Jen. I can barely keep my hand steady as it is."

  "Let me know when it gets really bad," I said. "I'll let you pull my hair to steady it."

  He clenched his jaw and looked back down at the sheet.

  Perhaps he thought I was kidding, but I wasn't. Being his muse was my first official role in this city, and I was loving every second of it. To be honest, I don't think I would've felt any luckier if I was Nico herself, stumbling into a Velvet Underground jam session.

  And my desire for him was not only becoming unmanageable, but it was making me feel uncharacteristically bold.

  I mean, wanting him in vain was one thing, but now that I'd had him all to myself and deep inside me, I knew there was only one thing that could relieve my insatiable craving.

  What's more, I was eager to prove to him that I wanted him as bad as he wanted me, that I wanted him more than all the women he’d had combined, and that he didn’t have to be gentle with me.

  After all, I didn't want to be pigeonholed as his high school wannabe sweetheart. I wanted to be the star of his darker fantasies, too- the ones it would make him blush to tell me about.

  Because I knew I’d do anything to be his everything.

  And watching him watch me was all the foreplay I needed.

  "How's it coming along?" I asked.

  "I’m almost done," he said. "You can see it in a second."

  I was so excited I was on the edge of my seat. No one had ever drawn or painted me before- besides him, of course- and I felt like I had my own private artist.

  "Are we there yet?" I asked.

  "Patience is a virtue," he said, throwing a sliver of linoleum at me.

  I rolled my eyes.

  "Okay," he said, bending down and blowing the shavings away. "The linocut for my first ever commissioned piece is done."

  I smiled and stood to face him.

  His eyes dripped down my naked body as slowly as liquid soap.

  I pretended not to notice.

  "Well, well, well," I said, stepping between him and what he'd carved. "So you carved away the bits that you don't want to take the paint, right?"

  "Exactly."

  I turned around and looked up at him. "As far as I can tell, it’s coming along quite nicely."

  He smiled.

  I laid the palm of my hand over the bulge in his pants. "Along with your other works in progress."

  He clenched his jaw.

  I stuck my hands under his soft t-shirt and pulled it off over his head so his solid chest was only a few inches from mine.

  Then I took the linoleum cutter from his hand. It had a smooth, wooden handle and a short metal tip. I held it backwards and laid it against his chest. "And is this how you got so chiseled?" I asked, dragging it along the lines of his stomach.

  He kept his eyes on me, his abs flexing with his breath.

  I reached behind me and laid the tool on the table.

  Then I undid one button of his jeans at a time until the heat in his pants was bursting against the back of my fingers.

  He raised his eyebrows. "Ready for me again so soon?"

  I stood on my tip toes to whisper in his ear. "Gagging for it."

  He exhaled and stood still as I kept undressing him, first by sticking my hands down the sides of his pants and then by forcing them down over his ass.

  His cock sprang up between us, and I stepped forward so it was pressed against my stomach.

  "Your turn to have a seat," I said, nodding at the bench behind him.

  He stepped backwards out of his pants and looked over his shoulder to find his way. By the time he sat down and looked up, I was standing between his knees.

  He put one hand on my waist and slipped the other between my legs. "You know I can't get enough of you."

  I put my hands on his broad shoulders and inhaled as he slid his fingertips along my slit. "Promise me you won't stop trying," I said, squeezing my hands around his shoulders.

  I moaned as he slipped his fingers inside me, sending waves of warmth straight through me like rising bubbles. "Oh god, Ethan." It was incredible to think his name had been a whisper on my lips for so long and that now, after all this time, he could hear me aching for him.

  He churned his fingers inside me and took one of my breasts in his warm mouth.

  I felt like an instrument in his capable hands, an instrument that was being played for the first time.

  And it felt so good to give myself to him, to be wanted like that, to know I'd been wanted like that for so long. It was the best feeling in the world.

  And it was time to return the favor.

  I put my hands around his face and pulled his mouth from my pursed nipple.

  "What?" he asked, his thick eyebrows furrowing.

  I bent over and kissed his mouth, relishing the taste of the lips that had been a forbidden fruit for so long.

  Then I sank to my knees and laid my hand against his cock, the same cock that had deflowered me the night before.

  "I want to taste you," I whispered, glancing up at him as I curled my fingers around his shaft.

  He slid a hand into my hair and pulled it back to get a better look at my face. "I thought you'd never ask."

  Chapter 44: Ethan

  The most incredible woman I knew was kneeling before me with my dick in her hands.

  I didn't know what I did to deserve it, but I was thanking my lucky fucking stars.

  "Don't be afraid to tell me how you like it," she said, her breasts squeezed together as she started stroking my shaft. "I want this to be good for you."

  The pressure in my dick
was so intense I couldn’t even smile.

  But I knew it was going to be good. Because I didn't just want this goddess in front me, I fucking worshipped her. So the fact that she was looking up at me from between my legs was such a rush I wasn't sure which of my heads was going explode first.

  When she parted her lips, I wrapped my hands around the back of the wooden bench and clenched my jaw as she flicked her tongue around the tip of my dick, my stomach tightening between us.

  By the time she flattened her tongue and started licking me, I was so hot for her it was hard not to thrust myself between her fat lips.

  Thank god she finally wrapped her mouth around me before I passed out from the suspense.

  I don't know why it was so intense. I'd had more blow jobs than I could recall, but this was different. Not only was Jen incredibly sexy, but her enthusiasm in pleasuring me was so fucking hot I couldn’t do anything but watch as she slid her lips up and down my swollen shaft, squeezing me in her hands.

  And if I thought I was conflicted about my feelings for her before, this event threw me into a whole new level of confusion because while I wanted it to last forever, I also wanted her to suck me faster.

  After all, I knew better than to think I could last with this dream come true on the end of my dick.

  I reached for the back of her head and rested my hand on it.

  She sped up without any pushing.

  I groaned.

  She groaned.

  Tingles shot up my spine, and I felt my balls swell. "Fuck, Jenny."

  She sped up again, her hand and mouth moving in tandem.

  It was too much.

  "I'm gonna come," I said, swelling between her lips. I didn't want to take her by surprise so I repeated it, but she only tightened her grip and sucked me harder.

  I took my hand from her head and gripped the bench so hard I expected I’d have splinters by the time she was done. Then I exhaled and let my head fall back.

  My body jerked a second later.

  I felt my hot seed spill into her throat, relieving the pressure I'd felt in my temples.

  When I dropped my head, she was swallowing me in big greedy gulps, drinking me down like she’d been looking forward to it all day.

  A growl rumbled up my throat as I watched her.

  Not even a drop escaped her lips as she milked me right down her throat, her eyelashes casting long shadows on her cheeks.

  It was only then that I realized I was out of breath.

  She released my dick and wiped her mouth on the back of her fingers, a self-conscious blush sweeping across her cheeks as she looked up at me.

  "That was incredible," I said, pushing a wisp of hair from her face.

  “Yeah?"

  “Yeah.” I cocked my head. "I mean, with a little practice-"

  She smiled and rolled her eyes.

  I reached down to help her up.

  She rose to her feet and reached out for one of my shoulders.

  I put my hands on her hips and spun her around, smoothing one hand over her ass.

  She looked over her shoulder. "Penny for your thoughts?"

  I smiled. "You can have 'em for free." I stood up and walked her forward until the front of her thighs were pressed against my worktable and my dick was pressed against her ass.

  Then I buried my face in her hair and lifted one of her knees up onto the table.

  She leaned forward and planted her hands on the lino block so they were halfway up the image of her I’d carved.

  Then I reached down, grabbed my cock, and forced her open.

  She gasped as I thrust inside her until the firm cheeks of her ass sank down to the base of my wet shaft.

  Then I reached around and rubbed her clit, crushing it against my dick to show her how hard I still was for her.

  "Oh god," she breathed. She righted herself and reached behind her, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  I squeezed one of her tits in my hand, pinching her nipple too hard between my fingers. "You like that?" I whispered, working her hot clit like crazy. "You gonna coat my dick?"

  She moaned and arched her back, forcing her head against my chest. "Oh, Ethan.”

  My name on her lips energized me. I put my hands on her waist and began pounding my hips against her ass.

  She fell forwards onto the table, her breasts bouncing above the lino image as my balls smacked against her.

  She cried out but didn't tell me to stop so I fucked her deep like I knew she’d never had it, digging my fingers into her flesh.

  When her breathing became a series of gasps, I reached around her bent leg and flicked her bud again, working it in circles as I slowed my pace, massaging her at the spot where I'd forced her open.

  "Yeah," she panted. "Right there."

  I bent over her, rocking her deep until her bud burned my fingertips. "Come for me, Jenny."

  She whimpered and turned her head at the moment her lips fell apart. Then she cried out, her body jerking in my hands as she throbbed around my dick.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and savored the feeling of her pouring down on me as her tight pussy choked the base of my shaft.

  The top half of her body collapsed against the table.

  I leaned upright and admired the way the arch in her back curved up to her raised ass. Then I thrust inside her gently, riding out her orgasm as I smoothed my hand over her pale cheek.

  Fuck she was beautiful.

  And I wasn't just in deep literally. I was hopelessly head over fucking heels for her, too.

  And I didn't want to feel sick about it anymore.

  I wanted to feel good about it.

  Like I did in that moment.

  And I wanted her to feel good about her feelings for me, too.

  Because didn’t we deserve a little bit of bliss in this fucked up world?

  Besides, Jenny was right.

  Beautiful things shouldn't be hidden away.

  Flashback: Ethan

  The day they got married we had to take a family photo…

  Jenny wore a light blue dress that she spent the whole day fidgeting with. Every time I looked at her she was either yanking it up or yanking it down.

  Meanwhile, I was at that age where I was not only expected to dance with all the little girls, but anyone over sixty still thought it was acceptable to squeeze my cheeks.

  And every time I felt miserable, I would look around for Jenny.

  I took comfort in the fact that she looked similarly dejected.

  Of course, I knew better than to take it personally. If anything, I figured she must have realized how controlling my dad was. What’s more, the way her mom looked at him sickened me. I couldn't imagine how she must have felt.

  I decided I should say something.

  I just didn't know what.

  At one point, I found her sitting at a round table in the corner of the room. She was busy mashing a piece of wedding cake into its icing to make a thick paste.

  I sat a few chairs away from her and watched her sculpt it upwards with two forks, not really making anything but a mess.

  "You gonna eat that?" I asked.

  I meant it as a joke, but she didn't laugh. Instead, she just glanced at me out of the corner of her eye before carrying on.

  I finished two half-drunk glasses of wine that were within reach and made my way outside the tent to see if I could get in on a game of bags.

  Back to the photo…

  Neither of us is smiling with our eyes in it, which is especially apparent because our parents look ridiculously pleased with themselves.

  But what you can't see in the portrait is that I’m holding Jenny’s hand.

  I only reached for it at the last second- partly so she would stop fidgeting with her dress and partly because I felt the urge to.

  I still remember how my chest felt when she wrapped her fingers around mine. It was just for a brief moment, just long enough to let me know she hadn't brushed my hand by accident or regretted taking it.
r />   And in a split second, it turned the worst day ever into one of the best.

  But as much her touch helped to relieve the pain I felt that day, I knew by the time the camera flashed that holding her hand would never be enough.

  Chapter 45: Jenny

  I felt like I couldn't love who I wanted for so long.

  It was like being in the closet.

  But now I was finally out. At least to myself.

  And it was a liberating experience, one that made me feel lighter than I ever had.

  And hornier, too, but Brandi always warned me that would be that case.

  I mean, on the few occasions I could ever recall her having a dry spell, she would inevitably settle into it and become increasingly happy to avoid the single’s scene.

  But as soon as she got a man on her radar, she was like a cat who’d just tried real meat for the first time, and she’d be all, like, “fuck another Whiskas dry food movie night with you, this pussy wants steak.”

  Her words, not mine.

  Anyway, I finally understood what she was on about because the more I slept with Ethan, and the more time we spent together, the more the thought of us being apart made me shudder.

  Unfortunately, after about two weeks, I started getting sick of keeping my perfect boyfriend a secret.

  After all, as long as we kept our feelings between us, we were still sort of swimming against the current, whereas I was ready to relax into our metaphorical relationship inner tube and see what was around the river bend.

  In other words, I was so head over heels I was constantly making ridiculous analogies to try and explain my smitten status, and I'd never felt gayer in my life.

  It was like living in a fucking musical where ever scene was more wonderful than the last… there I go again.

  Anyway, one afternoon when I was particularly high on love, I turned my key in the apartment door and pushed it open.

  The door to Ethan's studio was ajar- as it often was now that he'd let me in on his little hobby. But when I peeked in, he wasn't inside.

  My jaw still dropped, though.

  I took a few steps towards the easel where the print of my naked back was propped up. He'd made it bright red with yellow accents, and it was striking.