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Interesting. I take a step closer to her. “And what kind of energy would that be?”
Her eyes look down, and I watch in amusement as her cheeks heat. Her eyes snap back up to meet mine. She must not like the grin on my face because she makes this adorable dismissive noise and waves me off. “As if you don’t know.”
Now I’m very interested. I lock one hand on the Formica countertop and lean over her, taking up space everywhere she looks.
“I want to hear you say it,” I say.
“You probably have women throwing themselves at you. You and that sock in your drawers,” she says, her eyes flashing.
I bite back laughter. ”So?”
“So, it’s gross.”
“It’s gross that women like me?”
“No. Stop twisting my words.”
“I’m just trying to figure out why you hate my guts.”
“I just mean it’s gross that you love it that women throw themselves at you. You probably take advantage of that as often as you can.”
And now I’m even closer, inches from her lovely, if tired, face. “You have zero data to back that up.”
She doesn’t respond but darts her pink tongue out to moisten her lips.
My cock twitches at the sight of that wet muscle.
“You’re right,” she says, her eyes sliding down to my mouth. “I’m grasping at straws, just trying to figure out why a guy with ten grand in his pocket is living in this part of town. Why you wouldn’t already have a girlfriend if you wanted one.”
I’m pleased to notice she’s inched closer to me, and I speak close to her ear. “I do have a girlfriend.”
Her eyes go wide. “I hardly think she would approve of you bidding money on a woman to keep at your apartment all weekend.”
Chuckling, I press my index finger to her lips. The soft pillows almost bring me to my knees, but I manage to say, “It’s late. You’re tired. Now get into the tub.”
Neither of us moves. Instead, I do something I really shouldn’t do. I run the tip of my finger over those beautiful lips. I first saw that face only on a screen, smiling confidently. I’ll be kissing those lips before this night is over. And before Monday morning, that sweet, sassy mouth will be forgetting her well-practiced good manners and shouting my name like the wild thing I know she is.
FIVE
Leela
What am I doing here?I’m in the bath of a drug-dealing womanizer.
Well. It’s a step up from a serial killer, I guess. Pretty sure serial killers don’t have that much money to throw around.
But wait. He did give me water. And I am in a bathtub. Is it possible he drugged me? Isn’t this how people lose a kidney? Oh god. I watch too many true crime docs with Meghan and Mila.
I don’t believe any of that about Crosby. But seriously, does his girlfriend know he behaves like this?
I know this is wrong. As soon as he mentioned a girlfriend, my moral compass told me to march out the door and not look back. But I can’t. I can’t face the Humane Society saying the money’s not coming to them.
What will Crosby’s girlfriend say, though, when she finds out he brings women home to…oh god. Oh no. What if they’re a couple who is looking for a third? I assume most open relationships aren’t this weird. Still, I have heard of some couples doing wild things to lure college girls into misadventures. If that’s the case, I will run out of this apartment building naked. It’s times like this I really wish I’d brought my own car to campus, and that I hadn’t ridden here on the back of Crosby’s Harley.
I glance around the bathroom to look for anything to defend myself with. But there’s nothing except a pretty decent set of bath sheets that he’s set out for me on the toilet lid. Could I jump him from behind and choke him out with a bath sheet?
Crosby steps inside the bathroom, and I sink down under the bubbles to fully cover my tits.
“Don’t you knock?”
