This is crazy, Cameron thought for about the umpteenth time during the half-hour drive from his current living situation to his new possible one. As he turned right off of the parkway onto the residential side-street leading into the very exclusive gated community known as Arbor Ridge Estates, his heart beat increased and his palms grew slippery with sweat despite the blast of cold air flowing from the Honda's A/C.
He could still hear her voice during the short phone conversation earlier this morning. Last night he'd replied to her online want-ad seeking a roommate and first thing this morning as he checked his email he noticed a reply back from her almost immediately after he'd responded. Her message was brief but included a phone number to call her. And he did.
Her name was Samantha and she sounded nice enough on the phone, pleasant yet businesslike. Good, he'd thought, that's just what I need. This is just a business agreement, if we get along for the first meeting, not some lifelong friendship or anything more than that. Besides, she's probably not very attractive, overweight, and has all kinds of weird quirks.
Now, just a mile away from the upscale community's front gate, Cam recalled the husky, demure, almost sultry deepness of her voice over the phone. He had to admit...it was sexy as hell! But still...he had to make this work—provided she liked him enough to want him for a roommate—because his current living arrangement was driving him crazy...
Sixteen months ago, his girlfriend of seven years (who had been engaged to him for the past year and a half; they'd been only months away from their frigging wedding, for Chrissakes!) confessed to him that she'd been keeping a deep, dark secret from him, that she was attracted to women and had been sleeping with her best girlfriend for the past three years. She'd fooled around with girls before in college but never really thought she might be a lesbian, until she slept with Donna. Hurt and confused, Cameron let her go because what was the point? He had all the wrong parts and it really wasn't worth fighting against something he couldn't change. Shelly wanted to stay in touch, be friends, and Cam tried for a while but ultimately it was just too painful, too difficult.
Coincidentally, around the time his personal life had gone to hell, he'd been laid off at the paper. Sure, his dream of becoming an award-winning newspaper columnist was still attainable, but with the current economic climate and more and more newspapers around the country losing subscribers and cutting back, he realized his dream was slipping away. He also wrote and sold a few short stories, along with trying to finish a novel he'd started in college, but that wasn't nearly enough. Still, he picked up some freelance work for a local weekly free publication and worked another part-time job at a retail bookstore (the best he could find, since restaurants weren't hiring), but his income was not enough to keep his apartment. So, he'd managed to move in with an old friend from college who still lived in the area. Bryan was married now and had two kids, but they'd always kept in touch and even got together for barbeques on the 4th and other social events. Both Bryan and his wife, Penny, had been shocked at Shelly's secret life but welcomed Cam into their home, letting stay in their guest room for as long as he needed to, rent free.
Which was very cool until Cam realized with dismay that they threw wild weekend parties twice a month, with the adults drinking way too much, openly smoking pot (with the kids around!) and the women sometimes going topless in the pool. Cam could've overlooked all of that, until late one night when a half-naked Penny came into his room, drunk and probably high, and asked him to fuck her while Bryan watched.
Though he'd been surprised but not shocked (Penny'd flirted with him a few times before), Cam politely declined, Penny pouted and left. He decided he needed to find other living arrangements.
Cam saw the entrance to Arbor Ridge coming up on the left and slowed, turning in and stopping before the impressive brick and wrought-iron gate. An imposing uniformed guard stepped out of the small enclosed station and Cam rolled down his window.
"I have an appointment at 11am with Miss Greene," Cam said, pausing for a moment to read the address he'd scrawled down on a scrap of paper. He didn't need to MapQuest directions since he knew where Arbor Ridge was located.
The tall, hulking guard nodded impassively. He waved one beefy hand toward the gate and pivoted to head back into the guard station. A moment later the gate slid soundlessly open and Cam drove through.
Whistling under his breath, Cam surveyed his surroundings as he obeyed the strictly posted speed-limit of 20 miles per hour. He knew before how exclusive Arbor Ridge was but had never set foot inside the high brick walled community before. All the homes were large single-story or two-story stucco homes with red-tile or slate roofs, stylish and custom designed. Sprawling manicured lawns so green it made your eyes hurt if you stared too long, and almost every property had professionally landscaped trees and shrubbery accenting each and every dwelling. And what vehicles resting outside each garage (and they weren't many) all spoke of money and being financially well-off, whether it be a Lexus, BMW, or Cadillac SUV. ALL of the homes had large screened-in pool patios, most probably complete with a hot tub. Damn, this is living! Cam told himself with a serious pang of jealousy.
Samantha's street came up on the right and Cam slowed, hitting his blinker, casually glancing over at a tanned woman jogging alongside the road, her dark brown ponytail jouncing along with her even stride. She was long and lean, wearing a navy-blue sports bra and matching jogging shorts; he made a point of not staring, but politely nodded and made his turn. He didn't know if she waved back or returned the friendly gesture.
The street Samantha lived on was a cul-de-sac and he spotted her house at the very end and he pulled into the empty driveway. Her home was one of the two-story models, a light tan color on the stucco with a spotlessly clean red tile roof. Whoever designed the landscape preferred the more Caribbean style, a lot of palms and plants that could take the heat and humidity of Florida. As he quickly checked himself in the mirror, he took a few deep breaths and got out. Why was he suddenly nervous? He'd dressed casually, nice jeans and a short-sleeved button-down shirt, but now he felt a little anxious pull in his gut. Cam felt self-conscious, but he knew this was simply because he was a little desperate here, but also because he was interviewing with a woman who obviously had a lot of money but seeking a roommate. Something was just a little bit off here, but he shook his head as he strode up the wide front walk and up to the covered alcove to the front door.
Cam raised his right hand and was about to press the door bell when a voice behind him made him stop.
"You must be Cameron," said a familiar husky yet sultry voice. She sounded slightly out of breath and he knew Samantha was the female jogger he'd driven past just a minute or two before. Smiling, he turned to face her, extending his right hand. As his eyes took her in, he found himself momentarily speechless.
Samantha tilted a water bottle to her lips, swallowing deeply, her neck and face—as honey-brown as the rest of her exposed skin—coated with shimmering sweat. In the few scant seconds that she drank, and Cam remained silent (but still stupidly smiling, hand extended), his eyes quickly roved up and down her figure. Thankfully, her eyes squinted as she drank, not really fixed on him for the moment.
She was tall—he guessed maybe five-seven—and very lean, with long, tapering legs, feel encased in New Balance running shoes. Obviously, she kept in excellent shape because he noted her toned calves and thighs. His gaze roamed higher and her stomach gently undulated as she finished drinking, sweat trailing in thin rolling droplets down the slight concave of her middle stomach and over the hollow of her bellybutton. He quickly skipped his eyes past her breasts to meet her mildly amused and inquisitive gaze, but he could tell even with the sports bra that she had the perfect bust size (at least, in his opinion, anyway), not too big, not too small...just a wonderfully sexy handful. Most likely a 34C or 36B...but he was no expert. His ex had been short, petite, with tiny boobs and pale skin. The joke between them had been that even when she was 40 she'd still get carded.
Samantha, however, was a full-grown woman, that much was for certain.
Finished quenching her thirst, she lowered the empty bottle and returning his smile, raised her own right hand to clasp his, firmly pumping it a few times. Her eyes, which were a dazzling shade of gray-blue, fixed on his and before she let go of his hand, something sizzled in that touch between them that lasted three seconds.
Cam cleared his throat, his hand still raised to waist level as she pulled hers back. "Um, yes, I'm Cameron," he said with a slight stammer. "Or you can call me Cam."
She laughed and walked past him for the front door. Her laugh was deep and full of mirth. "Cam, that's cute because I always tell new people I meet that I'm Samantha, but usually most of my friends call me Sam."
Samantha opened the front door and turned to allow him inside. "Perhaps we'll be friends, then?" She nodded, smiling, and Cam did his best not to stare. He muttered thanks and went into the house before her.
The foyer was large and tiled, the walls painted a creamy off-white. A small wrought-iron and glass top table with some sort of green leafy plant in a terra-cotta pot lay on it to the right, up against a wall partition. A hallway branched off to the left and opened up into a spacious sitting room of sorts, complete with a small dark leather sofa and coffee table with a similar wrought-iron frame and glass top at the foyer table. A few abstract-like colorful paintings adorned the walls.
Sam led him into the front room and gestured to the inviting looking couch, which was a deep chocolate color. For a few moments as she walked past him into the room, his eyes glanced up and down her long legs, taking in the way her lovely calf muscles flexed when she moved. God, Cam, he told himself, stop gawking at her like some horny teenage kid eye-balling his best friend's hot Mom!
"Cam, make yourself comfortable, Cam," she said, "and I'm going to take a quick shower and then we can talk." She paused. "I doubt you want me smelling like a marathon runner, right?" She grinned at this and exited the room to go upstairs and wash up.
Honestly, she smelled great—her own natural musk combined with the saltiness of her perspiration was heady and nearly intoxicating—and he almost said to this as she left him. Good thing he opted to keep his mouth shut. For a minute or two he found himself fantasizing about what her nude body would look like and he felt the beginnings of an erection swell up inside his boxer shorts. Jesus, just stop it, Cam! Pull your damn self together or you'll scare off this obviously attractive but nice woman and ruin your chances of a possible great living situation.
Instead, he remained standing and focused on the room's artwork. His erection waned and shriveled back to its normal resting state.
Right before Sam appeared from upstairs wearing nothing but a fluffy white bathrobe, Cam had been wondering if this was such a good idea. The house—hell, the whole upscale neighborhood!—was very nice and well-appointed and he hadn't even gotten the tour yet and he wondered what Sam would be asking for in the way of monthly rent. Probably a grand a month, at least!
