Page 38 of RoomHate

“Okay. What?”

“Why were you looking at me like you want to eat me?”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Are you being serious, Amelia?”

“I’m lost.”

“Are you being serious about going out with Roger Podger when you’d rather be staying home with me?”

“Who said I’d rather be staying home with you?”

“Your nipples.”

I squinted my eyes incredulously. “My nipples…”

“Yes. While you were looking at me, I was watching them, and they literally hardened before my eyes.” He walked slowly toward me then leaned in. “No part of you—body or mind—really wants to be with him, and you know it. You’re doing this to fuck with me because you think I don’t want you. You’re doing this to make me jealous.”

“That’s not true. Not everything is about you.”

“Not everything. But this…this is definitely about me.”

“No.”

“Bullshit. You wanted to see how far you could push me before I reached my breaking point.”

“If that’s what you want to believe, then fine. In the meantime, you egotistical ass, I’m going to a jazz festival.” I started to walk away, not even sure where I was going, since Roger was supposed to be coming here to pick me up.

He gripped my waist to stop me. Flipping me around, he moved me closer into him, his eyes telling me I wasn’t going anywhere until he damn well let me. Justin then slowly pushed me toward the door, and my back was now against it. His lips hovered over mine as he panted into my mouth. But he withheld. Needing to taste him, I couldn’t take it anymore. Wrapping my hands around his head, I pressed my lips into his. We opened for each other, the feel of his hot tongue swirling inside of my mouth more incredible than the countless times I’d imagined it over the course of a decade. I ran my fingers through his silky hair as we kissed. His mouth was insanely wet, hot, and his taste was addicting. There was no longer a concept of time.

Nudging my legs open with his knee, he wedged himself between me. His hot erection was pressing against my body. Then he took my hand and slid it down to his crotch as we kissed so that I could feel him. Speaking over my lips, he said, “Fuck, Amelia, You think I don’t want you? Feel how much I don’t want you.”

I moaned against his mouth to confirm that I absolutely felt it; it was practically halfway down his thigh. Experiencing a complete loss of restraint, I was completely at his mercy. His kiss wasn’t ordinary or like anything I’d ever felt before. He kissed with all of the force in his body as if the very act was necessary for survival. If he kissed like this, I could only imagine what it was like to have sex with him.

The vibration of Roger’s knocking against the door hit my back. Shamelessly, Justin didn’t even flinch. Instead, he kissed me harder, deeper. He made it really hard to want to stop.

Finally prying myself away from Justin, I yelled, “Just a minute!”

His lips were still just inches from mine. He glared at me mischievously because he knew full well that even though I was going out with Roger, I wasn’t going to be able to think about anything else.

He wiggled his brows and said, “Have fun.”

Then, he turned around and walked away, disappearing up the stairs.

***

Roger never suspected that Justin and I had been sucking face just moments before he picked me up. I’d checked my reflection in the mirror before opening the door and attributed the delay to breastfeeding.

We stopped at Maggie’s for takeout lattes on the way to the jazz festival which was held on the grounds of Fort Adams at the mouth of Newport harbor. Three stages were set up, each featuring a different jazz band. It was a gorgeous afternoon with only a slight chill in the air. The location featured panoramic views of the Newport Bridge and the East Passage.

I tried my best to focus on the scenery and music, but my mind was elsewhere. I could still feel Justin’s kiss, could still taste him on my tongue. My panties were soaked. I wondered what it all meant, if things were going to be different now.

A text alert sounded.

Justin: Stop thinking about me.

Amelia: You are egotistical. You only kissed me because I was going out with Roger.

Justin: Technically, you kissed me.

Amelia: How is Bea?

Justin: Changing the subject?

He then answered my earlier question by sending me a selfie of Bea and him. They were both lying flat on the living room rug. Bea was smiling. It was freaking adorable.

Amelia: Looks like you guys are having a good time.

Justin: We miss you. You should ditch him and come hang out with us.

Amelia: I’m a little scared to come home to be honest.

Justin: I won’t bite. I promise. Unless you ask me to, in which case I’ll do it so gently you won’t feel any pain.

Amelia: I can’t text anymore. It’s rude.

Justin: We need to talk later.

Amelia: About what?

Justin: I’d like to apply for the position.

Amelia: What position?

Justin: Your casual fuck buddy.

Amelia: What???

Justin: We’ll talk later.

I didn’t even know what to say, so I put my phone away.

Roger put his hand on my shoulder. “Is everything alright at home?”

Not exactly.

“Oh, yes. I was just checking on Bea. Everything is fine.”

“Want to go grab an early dinner?”

Even though Justin’s text had managed to squelch my appetite, I said, “Sure. That would be great.”

Roger and I left the festival grounds and had dinner at the Brick Alley Pub. We talked non-stop throughout our meal. He spoke about his upcoming trip to Irvine to visit his daughter. He beamed with pride whenever he spoke of Alyssa, and it occurred to me how lucky she was to have a father who cared for her so deeply; Bea wouldn’t have that. I could only hope that someone would fill that role for my daughter someday.

Despite the sexual game Justin was playing all of a sudden, he still gave me no assurance that he really wanted to be with us long term. Even though he was so great with Bea, there was no real indication that he was interested in being more than just her “uncle.” His assertion that we should be “fuck buddies” certainly didn’t count. Justin and I couldn’t really be together so long as he didn’t want children in the long term.

Roger drove me home after dinner. I intentionally didn’t invite him in because I wasn’t in any mood for Justin’s antics.

He lingered. “I hope we can go out again soon.”

“I’d really like that,” I said.

Despite my obsessing over Justin throughout the day, I really did enjoy Roger’s company. He was smart, articulate and a really good listener.

When I opened the door, Justin was sitting on the couch watching television. Bea was cradled in the crook of his arm.

“How was it?”

“It was a lot of fun, actually. You would love the jazz festival. You should check it out. Tomorrow is the last day,” I said, plopping down on the couch next to him.

“Good.” He smiled, but it was more of a chastising grin.

I took Bea from him and kissed her. “I missed you, Bea Bee.”

“I’ll get up so you can feed her in private. I suppose you’re not hungry for dinner.”

“No. Roger took me to the Brick Alley Pub.”

His expression darkened. “Great.”

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