Is this what real life looked like?
Unceasingly unsatisfied sexually while being covered in other people's bodily fluids?
The drool I could handle, but the blue balls were another thing entirely. I'd never liked it, not in the seventeen some odd years since I'd first lost my virginity, so I didn't imagine I'd start now.
But for the first time in nearly the same length of time, I wasn't longing for the physical companionship of some nameless, faceless woman with a body of my choosing. Instead, I fantasized exclusively about the flawless face of the very known woman currently mouth-breathing into my nipple.
"Cass?" I whispered, trying to rouse her from her coma. "Cass!" But I wasn't surprised when she didn't respond, truly entranced in the deep recesses of REM sleep.
"Goddamn fucking sound sleeper," I grumbled as I shifted her off and slid away from the heat of her body. I was upset with her, but I was a hundred times more distressed by the fact I didn't want to put distance between us, didn't want to move to my side of the bed or leave it out of spite.
I wanted to lie there and listen to her breathe, something she so rarely gave anyone the opportunity to do. Bold and the complete antithesis of bashful, Cassie Phillips seldom shut up, and when she did, the violence of her overactive eyes spoke for her. But like this, she was completely at rest and her so often aggressive features melted into softness.
It made me wonder if there was a vulnerable woman inside of her anywhere, or if the fight she so naturally manifested was the way of her mind. I wasn't sure what I wanted the answer to be, but I knew I wanted to search for it.
She was naked, and her skin still held the glow of a healthy arousal-induced blush. Loose strands of chocolate hair fell around her mouth, one of them sticking to the moisture between her lips, so I reached out and pulled it free, my fingertips ghosting along the edge of her jaw as I pushed it to rest behind her ear.
Looking from her serene face to the glow of the clock behind her, I transitioned from inquisitive to agitated once again. I had to be up for work in three hours, and the steel rod in my dick made it nearly impossible to even consider sleep. I could work out the frustration on my own again, but I knew it'd leave me nothing but angry and no more satisfied.
I punched at the pillow beside my head and rolled over, closing my eyes to keep myself from staring at Cassie all night like I wanted to.
There was something about her that stirred something in me. She'd joked about mystery being a good foundation for a relationship, but she was at least partially right.
In the beginning, not understanding everything about someone was what made me want to know more. I'd been in this place before, but never for this long. Two dates, maybe three, and women always seemed to fall short of what I'd hoped. I wasn't looking for someone who was perfect, just someone who perfectly affected me. Cassie had held my interest for far longer than any woman in the last fifteen years, and she wasn't even trying for it.
If anything, she'd been trying to drive me away.
Staring out the window, I blinked into the lights of the building across the street and let my mind wander. To the things I'd done wrong, the ones I'd done right, and the majority that I wouldn't change either way.
Three full hours without sleep and a cold shower later, and my irritation was starting to grow into impatience.
"Cass," I called at normal volume, shaking her awake. "Wake up, fucking Narcoleptic Nancy."
Her eyes fluttered delicately as her long lashes fought to unstick themselves from one another. She cleared her throat and touched my chest in confusion, the first moments of waking up some of her most interesting. It took a lot of work to transform from the peace of sleeping to the chaos of awake, and I enjoyed the opportunity to watch. Violent or soft, it was never the same.
"Thatcher?"
"Yep," I answered shortly, frustrated by my feelings of the exact opposite of frustration. With a repeat of this kind of stunt, I should be fucking over it. Instead, all I could concentrate on was how undeniably attracted I was to her. Goddamn, why do I have to make everything so difficult for myself?
"It feels fucking early. Why are you waking me up early?" she asked and accused at once, her eyes still fully closed and her small hand resting on my shoulder. I could feel the heat of it all the way through my shirt.
"I have to go to work," I said. I wanted to whisper, but I forced myself to speak loudly. After last night, she deserved this. And it didn't hurt that it meant getting to see her, talk to her, take her in, before I headed out for the day.
"Ah, fuck. We've got to talk about this you going to work thing," she replied as she cracked open one eye. "It's really not working well for me."
I raised my eyebrows in response but said nothing else.
"Is there coffee?" she asked, pouting her lip in a way that normally made me crumble. She'd only been around for a week, but women learned fast. They preyed on your weakness and then used it against you shamelessly. I kind of admired it.
"No," I told her. "There's no coffee."
"No coffee?" she shrieked.
"No fucking coffee."
"What's wrong? Why is there no coffee?"
"Stop saying ‘no coffee.'"
"Then get me coffee!" she snapped, eyes open and alert.
"No. You're a terrible fucking roommate. Only good roommates get coffee in bed in the morning."
"What the hell did I do?"
I got right into her space, all the way in her face, my eyes staring directly into hers. She moved back until her back hit the headboard, and I followed her in. My voice was a rough whisper. "What face do I make when I come?"
"What?"
"What face do I make when I come during sex?" I asked again.
She searched for the answer, her eyes lifting up and to the right as she did, but it didn't take long for her to figure out why she didn't know the answer.
"Shit."
I nodded. "Yeah."
I pushed up and off the bed and stalked down the hall, grabbing my suit jacket from the back of the couch and throwing it on. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I picked up my wallet, keys, and phone and headed for the door.
Feet pounded behind me, but I didn't bother to turn at the sound. She was everything no serious man should want-selfish, fucking crazy, and miles away from wanting a commitment. But when I thought about the past week with her, I couldn't seem to convince myself I didn't want it. And that was fucking dangerous.
"Thatch!" she yelled from the mouth of the hallway when I reached for the doorknob.
I looked over my shoulder in question, but I kept my body to the door.
"I just … I'm sorry."
Her words hit me right in the chest. I hadn't been expecting an unashamed, unmasked apology. My body turned toward her on its own.
"What are you sorry for?" I pushed, and my eyes took in the fact that she'd managed to throw on a pair of tiny shorts and a tank-top before leaving my bedroom.
She avoided the question. "I've never done that to anyone twice."
I forced a dry chuckle, before turning back toward the door. "Great. I guess I'm just special."
"Thatch."
I turned once more and leaned my back into the door on an exhale. "What, Cass? You're forgiven, okay? Neither of us owes the other anything in this scenario, and you know it just as well as I do."
I didn't want to be the one to give in, but this was turning into something I had never expected. I didn't know how much one-sided interest I could take.
Her face shifted in a way I didn't like, so I looked to the floor.
I'd never seen her coming.
At a dead run, she jumped up to wrap her arms around my neck and sealed her lips to mine. They tasted like regret and Cassie, and her smell enveloped me on a delay.
Hands at her ass, I lifted her higher and opened my mouth to her, and she didn't squander the opportunity. Light licks tickled the tip of my tongue, and she yanked at my hair. I tried to find my bearings, figure out what was happening, but the feel of her body pressed to mine made it pretty much impossible.
She pushed herself closer, and I pulled at her hips. I needed more, and after a long night thinking about nothing but her, my body refused to accept any other answer.
I stroked her face with my thumbs as I forced our tongues to her mouth. Control was mine this time around, and I'd be damned if it ended in anything other than satisfaction.
Her legs tightened around my waist as I slid my hands down her sides, pausing at her perfect tits to slide my thumbs under their weight.
She moaned in my mouth, and that was all the incentive my feet needed to move.
Heading straight for the bedroom, I navigated to my hallway blindly, shoving my hands into the bottoms of her pajamas and kneading at the naked skin of her ass. She wore no underwear underneath.