Bad Roommate: Never Room With A Player

by Terry Towers

  The music changed up to a quick tempo. As the beat of the music increased, so did his thrusts, his balls slapping against my pussy with each thrust. Reaching between us, I grasped his balls in my hand, they were hard and ready. Giving them a light squeeze, he groaned loudly and slammed into me so hard, the railing in front of me left me winded, but I barely noticed.

  The feel of him releasing his seed into me, the pressure beating against the inner wall of my core, was more than I could handle. I cried out as my core tightened around his dick, milking every last drop of his juice before releasing, my release mixing with his cum deep within me, leaving me gasping and completely spent against the wet railing.

  Slowly he pulled from me, the evidence of our lovemaking spilling from me. Before I’d processed what we’d just done, he grabbed my waist again and spun me around, pressing his body against mine and burying his face into my hair. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I held tight to him. I was so close to spilling the words, ‘I love you,’ it sprang me back to reality.

  Just as I’d pulled back from him, I heard footsteps coming towards us. Our eyes locked and he cringed as he quickly tucked himself back into his pants. “You’re getting a spanking when we get home, guaranteed now,” he grumbled, turning and slipping his arm over my shoulders.

  “There you two are. We’re going to be docking soon.” The captain looked from Carrington’s guilty face to mine and back again. “You both seem to be enjoying yourselves, despite the bad weather.”

  He knew, I saw it in the look in his eyes. There’s a chance that he saw the whole thing. I felt both humiliated and completely turned on at the same time.

  “Yes, thank you. I appreciate all you’ve done for us,” Carrington replied, squeezing my shoulders.

  “Thank you,” I parroted, grateful for Carrington’s strength next to me. My knees still felt weak from my orgasm. All I wanted to do now was curl up next to him in bed and drift off into a blissful sleep.

  Giving us one more look, the captain nodded. “I’m glad you’ve both enjoyed yourselves.” Looking up at Carrington, he added. “I’ll give you a call in a few days to book another tattoo appointment if you’re open.

  “I am.”

  “Great.” Spinning on his heel, he quickly retreated.

  Releasing the breath I’d held, I slumped against Carrington. “The shit you get me into.”

  Looking up, I caught his gaze as he shook his head at me. “I get you into? Pretty sure this was on you. You weren’t kidding about being a wild one, huh?”

  Chapter 14

  Felicity

  Snuggling up to Carrington on the sofa felt good and right. I loved the way his body felt stretched out alongside mine. With my head resting on his bare shoulder, I used my index finger to trace the lines of hard muscle in his chest and abdominals.

  The night on the boat had been a week ago and it had been an amazing week since. It felt like I was in the middle of a rom-com that one of my clients wrote as though we’d been together for years and I didn’t want this high I was feeling to end. All the while, there was a part of me that had an irrational fear that it’d end at any second. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so at peace and secure.

  The episode of the tattoo competition we were watching ended on a cliffhanger. We wouldn’t know until the next week who’d be removed from the competition next week. Turning to face him, I frowned.

  Catching my gaze, he smiled down at me. “What?”

  “Why don’t you have any tattoos?” I’d been genuinely confused about that but had kept forgetting to ask until now.

  “I don’t know. I just never got one.”

  “You’re a tattoo artist, that’s a little odd to give tattoos but never get any.”

  “I agree. Maybe I’ll get someone to ink me eventually when I get a chance.”

  “What about now?” I teased. “I can hook you up with something wild.”

  Clucking his tongue off the roof of his mouth, he slowly nodded. “You want to be the first to tattoo me, huh?” Slipping out from under me on the sofa, I groaned my protest reaching for his arm to pull him back down to me but he was too quick slipping out of my reach, causing me to faceplant on the sofa.

  “Yeah, I’d be a fantastic tattoo artist,” I called after him as he disappeared into his bedroom. “Now get back here so I can get back to cuddling with you.”

  “In a minute,” he called back.

  Grabbing the remote, I flipped the channels until I found a sitcom we both enjoyed and switched over to that. We even liked the same silly shows. I tossed the control back onto the coffee table when he emerged from his bedroom carrying a large black hard plastic shelled case. Coming to sit next to me, he placed the case on the coffee table and opened it up, revealing a gun and bottles of ink. Wordlessly, he assembled the gun and prepared the coffee table.

  “I have no idea what I’d even want for another tattoo if that’s what you’re thinking, but I promise as soon as I figure it out, I’ll have you do it. You’ll do me for a discount though, right?”

  “That’s not what I’m thinking, smartass.”

  Sitting up straight on the sofa, I watched him prepare the gun. “Then what are you doing?”

  “If you must know, I’m getting the gun ready for you to give me my first tattoo,” he said so matter-of-factly I wasn’t sure if he was serious or not. Surely, he wasn’t serious because there’s no way I’d be able to tattoo him.

  “Carrington, I have no idea how to tattoo, not to mention zero artistic ability. I’m going to kill your skin and it’s going to hurt and it’ll end up a mess.”

  He looked up from what he was doing and smiled. “Maybe you’ll be a pro at it.” Giving me a wink, he finished up, pushing the leg of his shorts up over his knee, quickly sketching out an image on his lower thigh, just above the knee. It was a simple Celtic cross tattoo design.

  “I’m going to screw it up. You really can’t be serious.”

  “As a heart attack.”

  “Well, I’m going to have a heart attack tattooing you, so that’ll be two of us. And if we both have heart attacks, who’ll call the ambulance? We’ll both die.”

  Once done with his sketch, he moved and flexed his leg, tilting his head from side to side to get a look at it from all angles. “Yeah, I think that looks good.” Looking back at me, he nodded towards his leg. “What do you think?”

  “I think you’re a fucking nutcase. That’s what I think.”

  “Not the first time I’ve heard someone say that, but I think it looks good and we’re all set. What I want you to do is simply do the outline. Just move the tip of the gun along the lines, it’s like tracing lines on a piece of paper. Nothing different than that. Then I can show you how to color it in if we nail the outline.”

  “You’re a madman,” I grumbled, taking hold of the gun with shaky hands.

  “If your hands keep shaking like that when you tattoo me, it’s going to suck.” Grasping my shoulders in his hands, he gave them a squeeze. “It’s fine. It’s not going to hurt much and I’ll have something to remember you with.”

  “Forever.”

  “Yeah, forever. You’re not planning on ditching this relationship anytime soon are ya?”

  Laughing, I shook my head. “Not that I’m aware of. Though after I botch this tattoo you might be the one to dump me.”

  He chuckled. “No faith in me or yourself.”

  “I just don’t want to screw it up, that’s all.”

  “Lucky for me I’m a tattoo artist who works with lots of very talented tattoo artists. Pretty sure no matter how bad you do with the tattoo, it can be fixed if it’s atrocious. But I doubt I’d get rid of it even then.”

  I felt a warmth within me along with the fear that’d encompassed me. He had more confidence in me than I had in myself. He wasn’t going to change his mind, the least I could do was give it my all. But there was something else to it. I’d be branding him for the rest of his life. Every time he looked at his leg,
the memory of this moment would flash into his mind.

  Looking up into his eyes, my heart skipped a beat as time stopped for a moment. I was in love with him, there was no denying it. It was as clear as day and I was pretty sure he felt the same way about me. It felt so surreal, but it was true and as real as the gun in my hand.

  It was on the tip of my tongue to say those three little words, but I bit them back. I had a job to do first. Taking in a deep breath, I slowly exhaled and set to work, doing the best I could to follow his instructions.

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  Carrington

  I learned very quickly, once she had begun to work on my skin with the tattoo gun, that I needed to make better life choices. Or at least be more selective on who I had do my work from now on. Because… Holy fuck this hurt. She had a very heavy hand, several times gauging my skin as she moved the needle around the outline. I’d have scars on my scars. Every time I flinched from the pain, she’d stab me even worse.

  “Shit! Are you okay? You’re bleeding pretty bad.” She took a disinfectant wipe and wiped away the blood.

  Grimacing, I did my best to keep a smile on my face as I shook my head. “No, babe. You’re doing great. Maybe just a slightly lighter touch – that’s all.”

  “Okay.” She smiled and went back to work, biting at her lower lip as she traced a straight line. She finished the line and lifted the gun eyeballing her work, tilting her head from side to side as she examined her work thus far.

  She was about to press the needle into my flesh again when I grabbed her wrist stopping her. “Wait. Let me grab something to drink. One second.” Getting up, I hobbled over to the kitchen and grabbed two beers from the fridge. Cracking open the first can, I drank down half the contents before hobbling back to the sofa with the half can along with the full one.

  “You’re not supposed to drink when getting a tattoo are you?”

  “No, I’m not, but it’s fine. We’re already halfway done.” Thank fucking God!

  “We can stop.”

  I looked down at the half-done tattoo and shook my head. “No, this is something I want. Keep going.”

  I really wished I had something to bite down on, it’d taken all my energy to keep from groaning. Maybe tattooing wasn’t her calling. It was another fifteen minutes of torture, but she finally straightened with a large smile on her lips and nodded. “Looks good right?”

  “Great. You did a wonderful job, babe.” Leaning over, I gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “Thank you. Now I can say that I have a tattoo.” I motioned to my body. “This canvas is no longer a virgin.”

  “Righhht.” She rolled her eyes and sighed, flopping back onto the sofa, the tension in her body seeming to ease.

  “You look exhausted. I was the one being tortured by getting the tattoo you know,” I teased, patting her leg.

  “That was the problem.” She pressed her palms to her chest. “My heart is still beating a mile a minute in my chest!”

  Laughing, I grabbed another disinfectant wipe and gently cleaned it up. There were blowouts everywhere and most of the skin was severely agitated from being overworked, but it was done and she was proud of herself, so that was the main thing. Grabbing a square of breathable adhesive tape, I gingerly applied it over the tattoo to keep out any infection and proceeded to clean up the coffee table.

  Not all of my ideas were good ones.

  “You did well. Maybe tattooing could be your calling if the whole editing thing doesn’t work out.” I had no idea how I was even able to say that with a straight face.

  Her entire face lit up and she bolted upright again. “Oh! That reminds me. I can’t believe I forgot to mention this, but my agent got hold of me this morning and the publisher looked over my book again and they passed it on to an associate of theirs. They said they’re still not interested as a novel...”

  I frowned. “I’m sorry baby, maybe ne-”

  She smiled wide, her excitement flashing in her eyes. “It’s even better, they want me to fly to L.A for a couple days. They’re thinking that it would make a better movie script. They said they could do a Zoom meeting, but they’d prefer I fly down to get to know each other face to face and discuss my future and ideas.”

  “Wow!” Easing myself back into the sofa, a wave of pride washed over me. “A movie! That’s insane. I’m so happy for you.”

  She placed her hands out, fingers splayed. “It’s not for sure yet. It could be nothing, but could be something awesome.”

  “When do you go?”

  She grimaced. “In two days, but I’m only staying for a couple days and then I’ll be heading back. Would you want to come? I know it’s short notice and all.”

  “Shiiiit. I Wish I could, but I have a couple clients and I can’t turn them down, not when I’m trying to establish myself. I need all the clients and money I can get coming in.”

  “I understand. I didn’t figure you’d be able to.” She shrugged. “Thought I’d ask anyhow. It would have been nice to spend a carefree couple days in California with you.”

  “Next time.”

  “Exactly.” She leaned into me and brushed her lips across mine. “We’ve got the rest of our lives to travel.” Her lips tasted of strawberries from the gloss she liked to put on.

  The rest of our lives… I liked the sound of that.

  Wrapping my arms around her, I pulled her into me and placed a kiss on the top of her head. She sighed softly, slipping her hand up my chest and to my shoulder. I saw dark hair emerging at her scalp as the blond grew out. “Hey, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

  She lifted her head, her blue eyes which I assumed were brown under the contacts questioning me without saying a word. “What’s that?”

  “What do you really look like? Without all the make-up and hair color and all that?”

  Her body covering mine tensed. Shit.

  Chapter 15

  Felicity

  Damn. I was waiting for that question. I’d been riding the high of our new relationship and had kept the fact we knew each other previously to myself. I knew I should have told him already; I was just caught up in this euphoria that we were riding and didn’t want to ruin it.

  Sitting up slightly so I could look at him without craning my neck, I ran through what I should tell him. Blowing out a loud huff of air, I shrugged. “Do you have an issue with how I look?”

  “No. It’s not that at all. I’m just curious. Your natural hair color is dark, I can tell by the roots and I’m pretty sure your eye color is dark as well. I’m just curious. Why don’t you stay with what you normally look like? Why change yourself? I’m sure you’re stunning without all the extras.”

  “Should I stop going to the gym and balloon up to three-hundred pounds as well?” I snapped without meaning to.

  He recoiled a bit, frowning. “What does your weight have to do with anything? I’m trying to pay you a compliment.”

  Pushing myself up into a sitting position, I stood in front of him, undid my jeans and pulled them down slightly, pushing the bottom of my tank top up to reveal the stretch marks. We’d never been intimate with the lights on before so I wasn’t sure if he’d actually seen them.

  “It’s because I used to be almost three hundred pounds by the end of high school. That’s why I have all those stretch marks. I was fat all through high school. Really fat. I spent my entire high school life being teased for my weight. The torture I endured from other students was relentless. I had no friends and men were never interested in me. I didn’t have sex until I was a few years into college.”

  “That can’t be true.”

  I snorted, shaking my head. He was such a hypocrite. He’d been one of them. “I had dark eyes and long hair. I tried to take care of myself, but no one was interested in the plain fat girl. No guy wanted to be with me, and I struggled to even be the DUFF.”

  He scrunched his nose up. “DUFF. What the fuck is a DUFF?”

  “Designated ugly fat friend. The fat friend
groups of girls had to make themselves look and feel hotter.”

  “That’s insane. Girls do that?”

  I shrugged. “They certainly weren’t all that interested in being friends with me, that was for sure. They were more interested in making fun of me. You’ll never know how bad it feels to be tormented because of the way you look. It’s so easy to say, just get thin. It’s your own fault you're fat and ugly. Or my favorite was – oh you have such a pretty face, if only you weren’t fat.”

  “Felicity.” He reached out to me and I stepped away, seating myself at the other end of the sofa as tears filled my eyes. All the taunts and the pain that I kept buried deep within came flooding back to me. I’d done so much and worked so hard to be a different person, yet I couldn’t get away from it. I couldn’t get away from who I used to be no matter how hard I tried.

  “Whoa. Whoa. I didn’t mean to upset you, baby.” Coming over to my side of the sofa, he attempted to pull me into his arms. I resisted at first, but eventually gave in. Breaking down, I wept freely in his arms. It was the first time I’d completely broken down. I’d kept up a strong façade, hiding my emotions through my transformation. I spent years hiding behind who I wanted to be and trying my best to forget who I was. Then here he comes along, a source of pain from the past rehashing all the feelings I’d tried desperately to keep buried for so many years.

  I sniffed, looking up at me and wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get angry. The truth is you wouldn’t understand how I’ve felt all my life. You never will because you were one of the popular, blessed ones.”

  ~*~ TT ~*~

  Carrington

  Well, fuck. I wasn’t expecting that reaction.

  My intent was to build her up, not break her down.

  What in the hell did she go through for her to break down so badly? Granted, I couldn’t relate to how she felt. It had never been an issue for me. I’d never really had issues with other people throughout life. I’d always had friends. I guess you could say that I was popular. I’d always had a group of friends around to lean on and be there when they needed me. Girls were always plentiful.