Roommates

Sorry about the long wait! I had finals etc, but now summer is, finally, here! This is Chapter 04! Thank you everyone from your kind words and helpful feedback!

Enjoy!

-Aeli

***

It was easy to pretend to be too hungover for morning sex with Elliot. But he was so damn sweet that he brought me breakfast in bed. As I nibbled on some toast I realized that I was indeed very hung over. I drank as much orange juice as I could. I wasn't still drunk but my head was definitely still swimming. In the daylight, the actions of the night before seemed ludicrous. It seemed like I was someone else. I was possessed by some other woman who was selfish and reckless. Slowly, the guilt began to creep in. I had just had sex with another guy while on vacation with my boyfriend. I had just had sex with another guy in my boyfriend's parents summer home, with my boyfriend sleeping in the next room. I felt my eyes begin to brim with tears. I buried my head in my pillow. I had no idea how I was going to tell Elliot. I knew that I had to tell him, but I really didn't want to. A small part of me wondered how long I could get away with keeping it a secret. I dried my eyes. I finished the rest of my toast and tired to push the events from last night out of my head.

Elliot had packed up the car to go back to the city. I got dressed and went out to the driveway to see Alex sitting in the back seat. Patricia was in the front.

"What's up?" I asked. Patricia rolled down her window.

"I'm not talking to him," Patricia said. I looked over at Elliot.

"She wants to be navigator back to the city," he explained, "I figured you'd want to rest since you didn't feel good this morning. And," he whispered, "it sounds like they had quite the blow out last night. It's gonna be better for everyone if they're separated, okay babe?" He kissed me on the forehead. I looked at Alex who was slumped in the backseat. He was in a pair of shorts, a tank top and sunglasses. His arms looked amazing as he relaxed his head back into his hands. He peered at me over the top of his sunglasses. I quickly glanced back, but I refused to really look at him. I got into one side of the backseat and put my bag between us. I curled up against my side of the backseat and closed my eyes.

Try as I might, I couldn't sleep. I just did my best to keep my body away from Alex's. I had a glue my eyes shut as I heard snatches of boring conversation between Elliot and Patricia as they tried to make small talk. They talked about Game of Thrones, the weather and vegans vs vegetarians. When they moved into the definition of gluten, I cracked my eyes open and mapped how long we had left on my iPhone. 45 minutes. Thank God.

When the car arrived in Manhattan, I occasionally opened my eyes and counted the streets as we got closer to the apartment. When we finally pulled up to the apartment, I grabbed my bag and hopped out of the car. The sunlight was brutal. Thankfully Elliot grabbed my bag from me and took it up to my room. Patricia was sulking in the front seat, glued to her phone, while Alex threw her stuff out of the trunk of the car and onto the curb. I kept my gaze down, barreled past them and followed Elliot upstairs.

"Elliot?" I yelled after him.

"In here," he yelled from my room. I went into my room to see everything unpacked and set up for me. There was even a glass of water and Advil on my nightstand. "Do you need a bucket? It's ok if you do, that was a long car ride."

"No, that's ok. Thank you," I responded. He held me sweetly in his arms and kissed my forehead.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" he asked.

"No. I'm gonna be cranky all day while I nurse this hangover," I said. I couldn't quite look at his face. I buried myself in the crook of his neck. I hated how comforting he was.

"Ok. Call me in a few hours," he said as he nuzzled my hair, "I want to make sure you're ok. Alright?"

"Yes." I smiled weakly.

"You promise?" he asked.

"Yes." He insisted on tucking me into bed and then he left. Once he left, I felt like I could finally breath deeply again. I let myself settle into my bed and relax.

However, the moment I did, my mind began to boil over. The events from last night raced through my head. As I shifted around in my bed, I could feel the marks Alex left on my body. My hips were sore and my abs hurt. I swear that I could still smell him on me. Just the memory of him was making me wet. I shifted uncomfortably under my sheets. I hated how hot the memory of last night was getting me. I tried to push it out of my mind and focus on sleeping instead.

I had just begun to close my eyes when I heard a knock on my door. I ignored it. I was in no mood to deal with Alex.

"Erica? It's Alex."

"I know." He opened the door. "I didn't say to come in."

"We have to talk," he said as he settled against my door frame.

"I can't right now," I said trying to shut him down.

"Yes, you can," he insisted.

"I'm tired and confused and hungover. No talking." I rolled deeper into my covers.

"Erica, I want to apologize for being an asshole this weekend. You were right."

"Thank you. Now leave me alone." I heard Alex sigh. The floor creaked as he began to leave, then,

"I meant it," he stated.

"Meant what?" I asked.

"What I said last night." I felt my heart drop into my stomach. Instantly, my defenses went up.

"What? That I was finally hot enough for you to want to fuck because I was drunk and wearing slutty clothes?"

"No, that's not it Erica, I-" he started but I kept going.

"Yes it is," I interrupted, "Point taken. Fuck you too Alex," I spat.

"Is that what you think of me, Erica?" he asked, obviously hurt. He face began to grow distant and cold. I felt myself begin to soften. I knew I had to be the one to put a bow on the situation. I had to be the one to make it better.

"Listen, I was drunk and you were drunk and angry and," I started.

"And?" he asked, his eyes were steady, refusing to give me any hint of what he was thinking.

"And it was a mistake. Friends accidentally have sex all the time," I finished.

"Friends don't accidentally fuck the way we did." His face broke into a slight smile. His eyes seemed to focus on something far away as he remembered the events of last night.

"No, Alex," I said, firmly, pulling him out of his day dream, "I'd rather we just forget about what happened and move on. Okay?"

"Forget about it?" he repeated, confused.

"Yes," I stated, "What else can we do?" He started at me for a moment. Considering me.

"We could keep doing what we did last night," he suggested, "We could start in your room, in my room, the kitchen," he teased. He dug his thumbs into the waist of his shorts, showing off his lower abs.

"Alex, I don-" I tried to interrupt him, but got lost imagining his body against mine. He eased himself off the door frame and he settled on the edge of my bed. He quickly found my foot and slowly began to trace his fingers up my leg. The heat still between us was palpable. I was quickly falling into the fantasy.

"The bathroom, the living room, the hallway," he continued, holding my eyes with his as his hand reached my thigh. He paused and just studied me for a second, trying to read my face. Then he continued, nonchalantly, "No strings attached, Erica. No pressure. We can still be friends, just friends with-"

"Benefits?" I finished.

"Exactly," he smiled. Suddenly, I felt my anger rush in and topple all my other senses.

"No!" I yelled, as I kicked his hand off me, "No, I won't-I can't-I'm not," I fumbled to find the words, "I have someone Alex," I said firmly, "and I'm not going to jeopardize that."

"Anymore than you already have?" Alex replied flippantly as he got off my bed.

"Please Alex. Please," I begged, "We made a mistake. Let's just forget about it." He refused to look at me as he rested, once more, against my doorway.

"Sure," he mumbled, "I can forget. Easy." With that he left, firmly closing my door behind him. I turned back over into my bed and closed my eyes until, finally, I slept.

***

"So you and Alex are..." I probed.

"Back together," Patricia continued, finishing my sentence for me. We were standing outside my building. Both of our bags were full of new pages from one of our artists. I had offered to work at her place, or to stay in the office, but she insisted on coming over. The office was a nightmare right now, her place was cramped and messy, so my place was the only option.

It had been a week since the madness of the Hamptons. I was still torn up about it and it killed me that I couldn't confide in Patricia. I had been avoiding Elliot by throwing myself into my work. I had been treating Alex like he had the plague. I hadn't even really talked to Patricia until she cornered me in the office and insisted on a girls/work night.

"Well, Alex isn't here. He's at work or at least he is supposed to be," I said as I opened the door. We settled inside in the living room and spread the pages out on the floor. By the time they were all laid out, I could barely see the floor anymore. This was going to be a long night.

"That's ok," she smiled, "I've seen him a lot this week. He has more than made up for being an asshole," she continued suggestively.

"That's good," I said, quickly, hoping not to stay on that topic for too long.

"How are things with you and prince charming?" she asked.

"Elliot? Things...could-are...going along just fine," I struggled. I tried to sound positive, but I was a terrible liar.

"What's going on?" she asked. I shook my head. "Trouble in the bedroom?" she tried.

"No, its nothing. I'm just so busy at work that I don't get to see him all that much," I answered, hoping that would get her off the topic. Suddenly, heard keys in the door. Alex was back from work early.

"Hello?" I asked, vainly hoping that it could possibly be someone else.

"It's me," he answered.

"Patricia and I are working in the living room. There are prints everywhere. Be careful," I relayed the information coldly and succinctly. After our talk a week ago, Alex had been annoyingly mean and snarky. Anytime Elliot was brought up, he became downright unmanageable.

Alex carefully entered the living room, sticking to the sides to avoid walking on the prints. Patricia jumped up and hopscotched over to him. I quickly glanced over to see her playfully pin him against the wall and pull him in for a kiss. She had her arms around his neck and his arms were around her waist. She broke the kiss and leaned in to whisper something in his ear that made him smile. I felt myself being to bristle and my glance turned into a stare. He pulled her back in for a kiss. I saw her melt in his arms. Suddenly, Alex caught my stare. My cheeks began to flush with both embarrassment and anger. He just locked his eyes with mine and pulled Patricia closer to him. As he stared at me, his hands began to grope her body and he kissed her deeply. I heard a small moan from Patricia. The message was clear, even though he was kissing her, he was imagining me. Finally, Patricia pushed him off of her.

"Oh my God, Alex," she said, trying to catch her breath, "That was quite a hello," she breathed. He quickly looked back at her and smiled.

"I missed you." He playfully smacked her ass as he went to his room to put his bag down. Patricia stared after him, still dazed and incredibly turned on. I looked back down to my work. It was clutched in my hands. Surprised, I let it go and began to smooth the pages. I let my hair fall in my face to cover my expression. I was jealous. I was insanely jealous. I wanted to tear her off of him. Flustered, I got up and mumbled something about getting water before I scurried into the kitchen.

I grabbed a glass and turned on the sink. For a moment, I just watched the water run. I felt my heart began to slow down and my anger begin to settle. What was that? I filled my glass and turned off the water. I began to head back to the living room when I heard Patricia's giggles. I peered out from the kitchen to see the two of them intertwined on the sofa. He had changed out of his work clothes and was in shorts and t-shirt. He was whispering something in her ear that was making her laugh. He had his hands on her perfect thighs and her hands were under his shirt.

I turned back around and sat, looking out the window, in the kitchen. I slowly sipped my water and just let myself breathe. My blood was boiling. I said no to Alex. I didn't want that. I didn't want him. That was what I had been telling myself. That was what was comforting me. I began to plot the fastest way for me get back to my room. Or if I could find a reason to step out for a bit. But then, I began to plan what I was going to say or, better yet, yell, to get them out of the living room.

As I rehearsed the ways I was going to verbally tear into Alex, I finished my water and began to rinse out the glass. I heard a knock. I turned. It was Alex, he was shirtless now. I hated how good he looked without his shirt. I turned back to the sink, refusing to look at him.

"You ok in here?" he asked. He sounded smug. He knew that he had gotten to me.

"I'm fine," I mumbled. "Just taking a break." I started to wash whatever there was in the sink. Anything not to look at him.

"To do the dishes?" he asked, "I know how much you hate doing dishes. Is this project really that hard?" he teased. I was silent. I just stayed with the dishes in the sink. He began to root around the kitchen. In the cramped space he had to reach around me a few times. He took every opportunity to assert his presence. I slid around to avoid contact.

"What are you looking for?" I asked sternly. I turned and looked him in the face, refusing to let my eyes drift lower. He stepped closer to me.

"Wine opener," he answered, "I think it's here," he said as he reached past my hips and grabbed the drawer behind me. He pulled it, forcing me forward against him. I stayed with his face and he stayed with mine. Even if I wasn't looking at his body, I could feel it. His skin felt hot and soft against mine. He smelled amazingly masculine. As his hand felt through the drawer behind me, I began to breathe heavier. I tried to lean away, but there was nowhere to go. I didn't know how much more I could take. "Found it," he whispered as he produced the wine opener from behind me. I quickly closed the drawer, turned around and pulled away from him. As I turned, my ass brushed over his crotch. I felt his stiff cock. Before he could say anything I said,

"Be sure to bring me any dishes that are in your room." I plunged my hands back into the soapy water.

"Sure," he said as he turned and left. I was so horny I could barely stand still. And worse, I had suckered myself into doing all the dishes in the apartment. I hated him for getting me so wound up. I hated that I let him get me so wound up. As I scrubbed a pot something else came to me. If he had this effect on me, I'm sure I had the same effect on him. I smiled. He had picked the wrong girl to mess with. If he was going tease me, then I was going to torture him.

***

After a few more days of being busy, I had finished all of my work for the week. I couldn't avoid Elliot much longer. So, when he called and invited me over for dinner at his place I had to say yes. I knew that I had to look great for Elliot. After days of wrestling with what happened, I decided not to tell him about the Hamptons. There was no reason to ruin hour relationship just yet. I spent most of the evening convincing myself that it was going to fine. As I got dressed I changed underwear, dresses and shoes a least 15 times. No matter what I put on I hated it. Then, I got an idea. I could ask Alex for his opinion.

"No, Erica don't do that," I whispered quietly to myself. That only made the impulse to do it even stronger. I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. Then, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I stopped. I looked incredible. I never really imagined myself as a sexual being, but I really looked like one now. I was standing in matching black lace panties and bra. I still had my heels on from trying find a dress that matched. My make up was done and my hair looked amazing. I turned around, checking myself out from all angles. Something deep inside me began to egg me on. I ran my hands over my body as I turned in the mirror. Who was this woman?

She was sexy and seductive and getting very horny at the thought of a man admiring her. Especially the man that was only a room away. I felt a smile curl across my lips thinking about the expression on Alex's face if he could see me now. Suddenly I stopped. I wasn't a girl who got off on what men thought of her body. I was demure and sweet and something to be won; not an attention whore. But still, a male opinion on a dress could be useful. I looked at my three options and grabbed the first one my gut reacted to. It was a short, tight green one that showed off my curves, but it was fashionable enough not to be slutty. I slipped it on. As a struggled with the zipper up the back I found a compromise. My good side needed to ignore Alex, my naughty side needed payback and I needed someone to zip up the back of my dress. I cracked my door open.

"Alex!" I yelled.

"Yeah," I heard him reply from his room.

"I need some help, can you come here?" I asked innocently enough. I waited. I heard him shuffle out of his room.

"Can I come in?" he asked as he stood at the threshold of my doorway.

"Of course," I answered. There was an inviting smile in my voice. As he pressed my door open I heard his breath catch slightly. I knew why. I was standing there, all done up, with the back of my dress wide open. "Could you zip me up?" I asked as I looked back over my shoulder at him. He was slack jawed in shock. His eyes were racing over my body. He swallowed, hard, then,

"Yeah, I can do that," he whispered as he got closer to me. I pulled my hair to one side. I felt him run his fingers up my back. His touch seemed involuntary, unconscious, almost like he couldn't help himself. It made me shiver.

"Zipper please," I whispered. He stepped even closer me and delicately pulled the zipper up the back of my dress. I let my hair go and cascade down my back when he was done.

"Thank you," I whispered as I turned around to face him. He looked like a man in pain.

"Where are you going in that dress?" he asked. I turned and began to pack up my purse, making sure he got a good view of my ass as I bent over to grab my wallet.

"To see Elliot," I answered, "He's making me dinner. Isn't that sweet?" I teased. I saw his nostrils flare slightly. He shifted his weight, obviously uncomfortable.

"Yeah. Sweet," he mumbled. As I got my things together, I occasionally glanced back at him, only to see him staring me down. I smiled sweetly.

"What?" I asked, "Don't you like my dress?" I asked as I turned around, putting myself on display for him. He shrugged. I saw him trying to keep his cool, but his eyes gave him away. He couldn't stop looking at me. I felt my confidence spike. "Sometimes my tits get smashed in this thing," I mused, playing dumb, "How about now?" I bit my lip as I ran my hands up my hips to my tits and pushed them together and up. That got his attention.

"Holy shit," he whispered, almost inaudibly.

"What?" I asked, hoping to prolong his frustration.

"You look great," he choked out, "Elliot is one lucky bastard," he finished. I let out an uncharacteristically girlish giggle as a sauntered past him and out the door. I felt his eyes on me as I left. I relished the feeling. By the time I made it down to the subway I was ready to fuck someone's brains out.

***

As I got out of the subway I was incredibly nervous. It was the first time I had really been alone with Elliot since the Hamptons. I walked in and his doorman greeted me. I told him that I who I was there for, I signed in and headed up to Elliot's apartment.