Page 3 of A Bossy Roommate
“Not sure if it’ll be fun though,” she challenged, wiping her hands with a napkin.
“I’m a fun time.”
She snort-laughed. “Is that so? Despite the non-existence of sweetness in your life?”
“Haven’t had any complaints so far.”
“Well,Mr. Fun Time, how about you buy me that drink, and we’ll see where the evening takes us?”
We ended up sitting in a bar six blocks down. We drank, we talked, we danced, and about an hour later, I took her hand and escorted her outside to where my bike waited. Passing her my helmet and leather jacket, I settled into my seat. She hopped on the back without hesitation, her hot body pressed against me.
“Finally,” she said when she wrapped her arms around my waist. “But when you said ‘ride,’ I had something else entirely in mind.”
I revved the engine. “Don’t worry, we’ll get there.”
Soon enough, I had her against my chest—naked and beautiful and wet—her curvy hips grinding against mine, her pert nipples against my pecs, her moans growing deliciously more desperate in my ear while we moved to the soft music playing from the motel room’s small TV. The room was hersuggestion—it was one she had rented. It was a sketchy place to say the least, with several lights out in the parking lot, but she seemed incredibly chill and optimistic about the whole thing.
I was too focused on the firecracker of a woman to care where we ended up, as long as there was a bed involved.
I glance at the nightstand.
4:59 a.m.
Seems like our marathon session has knocked her out good.
Her long hair fans out beneath her head like a halo. In the lowest of early-morning lights, I can make out more of her facial features. Soft cheekbones, delicate jawline, plump lips smeared with lipstick.
Still curled on her side and facing me, she barely moves, except for her soft breathing. The blanket has slipped to the bottom of the bed, allowing me to see the bare and tantalizing dip of her hips. Carefully, I grab the blanket and cover her sleeping body, my gaze following the movement of the bedspread along her naked curves. When I softly brush a loose strand of hair from her face, a sweet gasp escapes her lips.
The sound rings in my ears. Every whimper and moan plays on an endless rotation in my mind.
It was a memorable night, and when I made sure she was thoroughly satisfied, she passed out within seconds.
She’ll still feel my cock inside her today, I’m sure about that.
Last night, I planned to sneak out after she fell asleep, but the bed was too inviting—despite the suspicious noises it started to make after one more round. I banked on the mixture of exhaustion and an active night to keep her sleeping long enough for me to make my escape in the morning.
Yeah, she’s attractive. But our night together can’t be more than a one-time thing.
It’s easier that way. I don’t have time for relationships. Anytime I’ve tried in the past, they haven’t ended well. I prefer one-night stands. Fewer complications that way.
Quietly, I slide out of the uncomfortable bed.
A loud squeak cuts through the quiet, and my gaze darts to her.
There’s not even a hint of movement from the young woman. With practiced silence, I slip into my clothes, one item at a time, casually checking on my bedmate.
Nothing. Just a little snore.
Good.
Dressed, I check the time: 5:05 a.m. I know I have to get out fast if I want to make it back home in time to start my morning routine. At the door of the motel room, helmet already in hand, I pause and look back at the bed. Her face is peaceful, and her chest steadily rises and falls with each breath.
“Thanks for the night,” I whisper, before I slip out of the door, quietly closing it behind me.
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