I couldn't believe it. Of all the days for my bloody laserpointer to be AWOL, it would have to be today. The day I was scheduled to speak at the Surgeon's Conference. Despite attempts to be quiet, I guess I must have made a little more noise than I thought because I heard my roommate joking about me not shooting.
For a moment, I saw him. Boxers and socks. That was it. I couldn't really concentrate. I did mange to mumble a vague semblance of an apology for waking him up. He denied I did, but I know he was being polite. It was four in the bloody morning and his shift started at ten.
To say I was frantic would have been the biggest understatement of the year. I felt ill prepared for this lecture and I was sure it showed. If he hadn't kept me up all night watching those bloody horror flicks. I was used to being calm and in control, which now I wasn't and my roommate was calm. How could he be so bloody calm?
It may have been the nerves of the lecture or the fantasies about my roommate in his boxers that caused me knock over a mug of last night's cold coffee. I sighed at first because I lived with someone who thought that picking up meant shoving it under your bed. Until I realised it had spilled on my laptop computer.
Calmly, he wipes it dry.
Even more calmly, he tells me I have something on my shirt and, like a perfect gentleman, wipes it off.
Oh, God! His touch sends shivers down my spine. I long to kiss him, but I am married. "Oh, God! Dubenko's going to kill me!" I shriek before I give into my temptation. And what a temptation he is too. I stop at the door and look at him once more in his boxers, looking around the apartment, dazed and confused, before heading off to my conference.
All day, thoughts of him bombarded my mind. Usually at the most inopportune times. Like when I'm drinking coffee or listening to a lecture about the new advances in surgery. Of course, the beta mash Dubenko gave me to relax me isn't helping either.
Not even the dry martinis I'm drinking with my attending can shove the image of my roommate in his boxers, wiping my shirt clean, and the want to be with him, from my head. Rather than drive the thoughts away, the martinis only fuel the fire of the fantasies. Even as I drink the delicious tonic, the idea that I enjoy…really enjoy…staying at home with my roommate is mentioned.
Truth is I would rather spend a quiet evening in with my roommate watching movies than spend an exciting evening on the town with my husband. Even if my husband wasn't in Iraq. Once the words leave my mouth, I gasp.
Despite the fact that I'm married, I am in love with my roommate and he loves me. I could see that in his eyes this morning.
I know what I need to do.
I make my way home, thankful for taxicabs and the El Train because the martinis are kicking my arse. I slowly enter the apartment, exhausted from the day, and he's in the kitchen, attempting to cook us some stir-fry. He asks how my day was and turns his attention back to the cooking. I quietly walk over to him, making him turn around to face me. He has this crooked cocky grin and he's wearing it now. I softly smile as I gently trace his jaw line and his lips.
I pull myself up to him and kiss him. Of course, he's stunned, but he returns my kiss in a teasing tongue tango. Our kiss slowly deepens as long hidden passion awakes in each of us. I resist the urge to rip his shirt. Instead, I tug at the hem. He pulls away only to help me pull it off.
God! He's beautiful. No one in this earth could ever have a more perfect body. I hear him softly moan as I softly kiss his chest. I hear his heart beating faster and feel his breath accelerate and know my heart and breathing are following his lead. I look up at him and take his hands in mine. Stepping over whatever is on the floor, I lead him back to his room. He is all too eager and all too unsure.
Slowly, the teasing stops and his soul and mine are now one. He feels so good and the only regret I have is that I'm married and it's not to him. As I begin to sing his name, he turns around and offers me a water chestnut. I snapped back to reality and told him I thought that it is time for me to move out. "I think we both know why." Is all I answer to his question.
