Friends
~Caroline~
I survived another day, I sigh to myself as I step out of my heels. Home at last and my anxiety can subside some. By the end of my days spent avoiding the slight touches of Chad, I am exhausted, but I don’t know what to do.
He asked me to dinner, once again. How long will we stay on this hamster wheel? What part of “no, I am not interested,” doesn’t he understand? Obviously, he is not used to rejection. We went to dinner, once. And it blew up in my face. What would have happened if I hadn’t reacted? I shudder at the thought.
Sure, I panicked that night because I felt like I was in danger. However, since then, I haven’t allowed myself to be alone with Chad, so I am safe. Well, as safe as I can be. He won’t come to my apartment—too many witnesses if I yell.
This entire thing is completely out of control. Shivers run down my spine as I think of how many times he whispers that he will have me, but I try to push it down. I try not to think about it. Yet, every so often, Chad is there to tell me, if I say anything, people will believe him over me. He has been there longer; they know him better. It is my word against his. I wanted his attention, after all. Sure, I wanted attention in the beginning. I didn’t want this kind of attention, though. I am so in over my head now. I don’t know what I am going to do.
Honestly, I kneed him in the balls that night; therefore, I would think he wouldn’t want anything to do with me. What man comes back for more when my rejection was most certainly painful for him, not only physically, but for his ego, as well?
Somehow, I think I may have challenged him further. Like a panther hunting its prey, he is laying low in the tall grasses of our tall work building to strike out and catch me when I least expect it.
At that thought, insecurity takes ahold of me and grips me tightly. This is far from over, but I am in too deep to see my way out.
If only he would stop leading me down the hall to every meeting with his hand low on the small of my back. If only he wouldn’t brush the back of his knuckles against my shoulders or my cheeks every time he leaves a paper on my desk. If only he wouldn’t find ways to keep touching me, from the brush of his fingers over mine to the bump of his legs under the board room table. How can I escape him when I am assigned directly to him? He is everywhere I am for eight hours a day, every week day, and overtime.
Feeling dirty, feeling covered by my mistakes, I make my way back to my bathroom and turn the shower on to scalding hot. The water burns going down my skin in an unpleasant yet soothing way. The grime of my sin’s past, the filth of his hands finding reasons to touch me throughout the day, and the overall stress of my situation flows down the drain as the water cascades over me. Too bad, the minute I step out, the realities of my life will wash over me once again. Is it possible for me to live in the shower?
The sound of my doorbell chiming tells me it is definitely impossible for one to live her life in a shower. Well, damn, there goes that idea.
Hopping out, I quickly dry off, wrap myself up in my robe, throw my hair up in a towel wrapped turban style, and rush to my front door. I don’t allow myself fear of who could be on the other side, nor do I question why I have visitors at all as I swing the door open wide. My friends would call first, so I should be alarmed. Instead, too lost in thoughts and too caught off guard, I open the door wide to find none other than Drexel Crews on my doorstep with a box in hand.
“Rex,” I greet as my heart rate speeds up. My mouth goes dry as I take in the bad boy in my doorway.
He is in dark jeans, a black T-shirt that is tight around his bulging biceps, the black vest he wears all the damn time, and boots. His dirty blonde hair falling just at his shoulders is wet, making it look brown.
I lick my lips as I feel an unquenched thirst race through my veins, like a man stranded on a deserted island with no fresh water.
Why does he get to me like this? Every time I am in his presence, my pulse quickens, my palms sweat, and I need a drink like never before.
“Lux, you gonna let me in, or are you gonna stand half-naked in your hallway?” he retorts as my eyes follow his gaze to see that my robe has slid open, exposing my right breast down beyond my nipple.
Mortification encompasses me as my entire body blushes. Quickly, I cover myself then step back, allowing him into my space. My sanctuary is now as open and exposed as my boob just was.
He strolls past me as if he owns the place. Rex is a cocky bastard, the kind your mom warns you about. Yes, he is sex walking, sin talking, and everything that makes your girlie parts cry out with need. What is worse, he knows it. He knows exactly what he does to women. His eyes dance in challenge at the thought of a new conquest. No emotions hold him back; just pure, undiluted lust rules him.
However, I refuse to let him see he gets to me. I am far too controlled, minus my minor failure with Chad, to allow myself entanglements that jeopardize my future.
“Lux, you gonna stand there all night, holding the damn door open, or you gonna come have some cheesecake with me, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart? His endearment quickly snaps me out of my thoughts. He may have startled me momentarily, but he won’t rattle me, and he sure as shit won’t shake me. Where is the sign for my door that says ‘No boys allowed’ like I always wanted as a kid for a girl’s only clubhouse?
Slamming the door harshly, I mask the mixed emotions Rex brings out in me as I steel myself to have him in my home.
“Why are you here?” I ask as I make my way to the kitchen where he has already found two plates and laid them out on the counter.
“To have cheesecake with a friend. Harrison, down at the garage, swears his woman Tiff makes the best damn chocolate cheesecake ever. I could give a shit if it’s the best. I just want to see if it’s good.”
“So you brought it here? Yeah, ’cause I’m your first choice of people to hang out with … sssuuurrreee.”
“You could be,” he states in this nonchalant way that almost has me believing him. Almost.
“Cut the shit, Rex. Why are you here? We aren’t friends, we aren’t fucking, and we aren’t about to start, either.”
He grabs his chest dramatically in mock pain. “You crush my dreams, Lux.”
God, I hate when he calls me that, but I have learned, the more I fight it, the more he does it, so I pick my battles.
I shake my head at him, trying to hold back a laugh. Here I have this tall, built like he lives at the gym, gorgeous man in my kitchen, cutting me cheesecake, and he is acting like I have truly killed his hopes while I stand in my bathrobe, air drying, unsure of my next move. We come from two completely different places in life, and yet, he always makes me smile, even when I don’t want to.
“Blushing looks good on you, Lux.” He smirks at me, causing me to blush further. “You know, I would look even better on you, in you, and all over you,” he adds without hesitation.
“Rex,” I attempt to say firmly, although I think it comes out as more of a whine, borderline plea.
He raises his hands up in surrender. “Friends, Lux. I’m here with chocolate cheesecake to be friends.”
“Again, cut the shit, Rex. You aren’t here to be my ‘friend.’ ” I use air quotes as I stress the word.
Lightening quick, he comes around the counter and has me pressed up against him as he wraps one arm firmly around my lower back and uses his other hand to tip my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“Careful where you’re treadin’, sweetheart. I’m a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them. Don’t insult me, Lux.”
I swallow hard as my insides quiver at being in his arms. “Rex, I know you’re here because I overreacted to something dumb that happened with a guy from work. Delilah told you and set you on my case. I didn’t mean to imply you are a liar or even a bad person. I just meant that I know why you’re here, you know why you’re here, so let’s cut the shit. I’m okay. You can go home now. I don’t need a babysitter.”
He laughs as he tightens his hold on me, forcing my hands to come up on his chest for security. He is firm under my delicate touch, all man, all masculine, and all consuming. I breathe him in, taking in the smell of his leather, his soap, and his own unique scent.
“I’ve never babysat a day in my life, and I don’t intend to start now.” As he strokes my jawline with his thumb, involuntarily, I find myself leaning into his touch. “Sweetheart, you don’t strike me as someone to overreact. However, if telling yourself that makes you feel better, so be it. I came here tonight to be a friend. The other day at Tripp’s, when it came to the situation with Axel—when it came to me having a son I didn’t know about—you kept it real with me. Baby, not a lot of people do that in my world, so I respect it. I respect you. I’m here to be friends.” He steps back, once again raising his hands in surrender.
“Innocent enough for you?” he questions with a smirk that makes my girlie parts come alive.
What can I say to that?
Deciding not to argue with him, because he really is going through a lot with his newfound parental role, I smile at him before turning to go down the hall.
“There is nothing innocent about you, Drexel Crews,” I say without looking back as I make my way to my room to put some clothes on. I have a feeling, with Rex in my space, I will need as many barriers between us as I can get. The man is pure charisma, and my body betrays me at every turn.
~Rex~
I will not fuck her. I will not fuck her. I will not fuck her. I continue to repeat that in my head as she swings those luscious hips down the hall to her room.
I will not fuck her tonight. I will not fuck her tonight. I will not fuck her tonight. Knowing she is naked as the day she was born under that robe only makes my cock want her more. To keep both my heads happy, not fucking her tonight is the compromise. My cock wants her, but my brain knows it is not happening tonight, although … the future is yet to be determined.
Truth be told, I will fuck Lux. One day, it will happen. I am not a liar, and I am not about to start lying to myself tonight. Not over a broad, anyway. So, for tonight, I will have the self-control not to have sex. One day, however, I will have her come alive under me. All that tight, bound up, professionalism she carries will break under my touch, and I will have her trembling and begging for more. Thoughts of messing up her put-together façade have my dick twitching behind the denim of my pants. Not tonight, though… One day, I allow myself to hope, because there is more to this woman than her proper dress, and there is more to us than she allows herself to see.
I know she is surprised to have me here. I also know I totally messed up her routine—her boring, same thing, same time, every single day routine. Yes, I showed up unannounced, uninvited, and unapologetic, but I don’t know what really brought me here other than instinct.
Caroline is real with me at all times, even when I don’t want to hear what she has to say. When I wanted everyone to say Tessie was wrong, there was Lux telling me she would have done the same damn thing, making me open my eyes to see things differently. She forces me outside of my box, out of my comfort zone. Now, I am going to push her out of hers.
Take a ride on the wild side, Lux. I promise to make it good. Those are my thoughts as she steps out of her bedroom in leggings and an oversized top that hangs off one shoulder. The top is loose until her thighs where it hugs down just above her knees. Her wet hair is braided to one side, hanging over her chest. The ensemble is one I see in the catalogs my mom sometimes shops from.
“Damn, Lux, don’t you own sweats and shit? You know, around the house clothes. That’s what Doll calls them.”
She laughs at me. “Rex, this is my comfortable loungewear.”
Loungewear, pffft! Who the hell says that? We come from two completely different worlds, and this is yet another reminder.
I hand her a plate with a piece of cheesecake and follow her to her living room. Nothing in her place is overstated like I thought it would be. She has this very modern sleek look going on with metals and glass everywhere. Her couch is white leather, and as we sit down on it, I feel it is soft and definitely made for relaxing. The coffee table has a silver frame with a glass top in the shape of an artist’s palette tray, minus the thumb hole. Her television sits on a glass top stand with white cabinets under it. The only pop of color outside of the silver and white is two yellow throw pillows on her couch, a yellow blanket on her white leather chair, and a gray and yellow rug on the floor.
After we eat the dessert silently—well, minus the two moans of deliciousness that escape her—she takes the plates back to the kitchen as I settle more into her sofa.
“Okay, we had dessert. You can leave now,” she dismisses me.
I only smile and pat the spot beside me.
“Lux, that’s not the way to treat a friend. We’re gonna hang out and shit.”
“Cut the crap, Rex. You don’t hang out with women. I don’t know what your sudden interest in becoming my friend is, but I’m good, buddy. I have enough friends.”
“You’re right. I don’t hang out with women. I fuck them. But you’re different, Lux. Tonight, I wanna hang out with you, get to know you, and yes, be your friend. Say what you want, but you’re intrigued by me. The words may come out of your mouth, dismissing me, but your body language betrays you.” She gasps in shock. “The way you’re twisting the waist area of your shirt, the way you don’t look me in the eye to tell me to leave—all that gives away the truth. It’s okay to want me, and it’s more than okay to hang out with me. I don’t bite, Lux … well, not too much and definitely not too hard,” I add with a wink.
She blushes yet moves over to sit with me on the couch. “You drive me crazy, Rex. Are you always so pushy?”
I think about what she says. “I guess I am, yeah. What is it about you, Lux? You make me actually take a look at myself and see where I have faults.”
She laughs at me. “Whatever, Rex. So, you wanna hang out? Umm, you wanna watch a movie?” Every word is laced with her insecurity.
“Sure,” I reply, really having no intention of watching anything other than her.
Once she puts in a movie and settles back on the other side of the couch, I reach out and grab her feet, pulling them to my lap. Slowly, I begin to work my calloused hands over the soft skin of her small feet, working my thumbs into the ball of her foot to loosen the tight muscles and relax the nerve endings.
She sighs, trying to fight her body’s need to relax into the massage.
“Feet have over seven thousand nerve endings, and those heels you wear daily aren’t good for the balls of your feet, sweetheart.” I work harder to loosen the overworked part of her body.
She looks at me with surprise clearly written in her features.
“More than a biker, baby.”
She licks her lips and attempts to pull her foot away. I don’t release it, though. Rather, I pull it up to my mouth. She tenses under me as she thinks I am going to suck her toe or some shit, only I move my mouth down to place a soft kiss on her ankle and run my hands up her calf muscle, massaging as I go.
The more I touch her, the more my dick hardens, pressing against the zipper of my jeans. Needing to slow this down before I can’t keep the beast in my pants caged, I turn my attention to her other foot and give her the chance to focus back on the movie.
The television noise soothes the atmosphere around us. It is strange for me to simply sit and enjoy a female’s company. Yet, with her, I want nothing more than to chill out.
After a while, she is completely relaxed with me and my invasion of her space. Stranger, though, I find myself completely comfortable in this space with her.
“Rex, how are you doing with the whole having a son thing? Are you going to be there for him? For them?”
The look on my face is one of shock that she would bring up my situation with genuine concern. However, it spooks her.
“Never mind, forget I asked. It’s not my business.”
“No apologies. I’m glad someone cares about what I’m doing. Truth is, I gotta make shit right for Tessie, Shooter, and Axel. Yeah, I wanna be there for them. I beat the hell outta Shooter, and I gotta face that. I turned my back on her more than once, and I gotta face that, too. Then, hopefully, we can all work towards something.”
She takes in what I say sincerely then bites her lip nervously. “Are you gonna try to be with Tessie? You should know, Rex, having a child with someone doesn’t mean you have to be with them.”
“Nah, I know that. Besides, the time for me and Tessie to be together is long since gone. I can’t give her what Shooter can, and I’m man enough to know that and walk away so she can have it without intrusion.”
She studies me for what feels like the longest time. “Hmm … I might have been wrong about you, Rex.”
“There’s more to me, sweetheart, than a pretty boy smile, a bad boy body, a Harley, and a pierced dick,” I reply with a wink, knowing I just made her head spin with my cockiness. I love making her frazzled and frustrated.
She rights herself and squares her features. “Rex, I misjudged you. I’m strong enough to own my mistakes. I’m sorry for that.”
“Friends?” I ask, trying to look innocent.
“Just friends?” she counters.
“Sure,” I answer while I add, for now, in my mind. There is so much more to me, so much more to her, and my gut says there is so much more to share between the two of us in the future.