A/N: You totally have Paulerina at SDCC to blame for this. This is my 50th story so I'm proud of that, but overwhelmed by the various WIP's I already have in circulation. But it's cool. The more the merrier. This story is AH/AU told in 1st person just a fair warning. This will be explicit throughout and I don't have a main plot at the moment, and I probably won't have one. We'll see. Hope you enjoy!
||Prologue||
Wet. I'm wet. Can't lie and why should I lie? The state of my wetness had nothing to do with stepping out of the shower or dipping into a pool. This wetness derived from a place I liked to call the center of civilization. There were about a million and one different metaphors for the place I'm describing, and they'd all fit, but it wouldn't come close to illustrating what I want to do with it, or wished someone would do with it.
If you're so inclined to know the cause of my predicament I could sum it up in as few words as possible. Dick. That was easy. If you were looking for a more detailed and dignified answer that brought up the great philosophers who spent hours questioning if they existed, then let me apologize. I'm pretty sure I just came off as having a one-track mind and there's no shame in my game to admit at times I am consumed by certain thoughts, driven by an innate need to screw and get laid. Would it be a fair assessment to say it happened to us at all some point?
The crux of the problem extended to circumstances well beyond my control. I am a woman with a certain set of needs that I would like and preferred to be met within a specific timetable, but that wasn't always possible. My life came with the requisite stressors as the next person breathing harshly while inching along in bumper-to-bumper traffic. My moods fluctuated based on others stupidity or competency, but overall I considered myself to be a fairly happy and content person.
Yet there was always room for improvement, a room for more. I did what I could to never toe the line of being satisfied and being greedy. I was one or the other, interchangeable night or day.
But back to my point.
My fingers were itching for a touch of him, my lips burned for a kiss. It seemed his stare could determine the pace of my heart, and whenever he licked his lips my clit jumped in response as if he beamed that particular action right between the swell of my thighs. He had no clue of his effect on me and I worked overtime to keep it under wraps. He could never learn the depth of my thirst until I was ready for him to travel down my unchartered secrets.
Who was this man? Curious?
His name is Stefan Salvatore and…he's my roommate.
"Which tie?"
My head whipped in Stefan's direction. He was shirtless, jogging pants barely hanging on to his hip bones. Swiftly my eyes dripped below the elastic band of those pants to cop a look at his bulge. Impressive. So was his chest. Stefan had stopped being shy being half-naked around me after a successful year of living together, and keeping things from becoming awkward. He freely walked around our apartment in the dead of winter or in the sweltering heat of summer in next to nothing, and I enjoyed every minute of it.
Pardon me, but I forgot to mention he had the "V", the V ladies, the V!
I inhaled and clenched the makeup brush tighter in my grip. The both of us were going out on respective dates. He was going out with a woman from his job, and I was going out with a guy I totally wasn't interested in but it was a free meal. What?
Relationship columnists had to eat, too.
I examined the ties in his hands. One was a plain black skinny tie; the other was navy blue silk with white stripes.
"Go with black. You don't want her to feel like you're about to head to the office. Wait. Why are you wearing a tie anyways?"
Stefan rolled his eyes and drilled his toned shoulder into the doorjamb. "I'm being dragged to an art opening. One of Amber's friends from college."
"Doesn't sound like you need to wear a tie for that."
"No, but we're supposed to be going to this five-star restaurant afterwards to celebrate."
"And I'm sure by the time you're finished it'll be too late for anyone to give a damn if you're wearing a proper tie and dinner jacket," I turned back to face the mirror to finish constructing my 'I don't feel like fucking with you face'. Minimal makeup and boring hair.
"Amber is all about appearances."
Why were we debating this? nearly fell from my lips. I had been informed through various conversations that made my resentment dig a big deeper in the pit of my stomach, that Stefan liked Amber and liked screwing Amber, but really didn't see their 'relationship' transcending beyond the scope of casualness. My case was nearly similar only I wasn't actively fucking the guy I was going out with. This made me question why we put so much effort into people we didn't want to carve a future with.
Staving off loneliness will make you do terribly stupid things.
"Stefan," I sighed. "Do what you want? You're a grown man. Amber isn't your lady, and she doesn't pay your bills. Besides," I looked at my roommate again, "I doubt she's going to send you home because she's probably gushed to her friends about the 'totally great guy I'm seeing'," I did a poor imitation of Amber's voice. "And she wants them to meet you."
Truth be told, I've only met the chick twice. She seemed cool, but everyone seemed cool in the beginning because they wanted to be liked. And, I'm sure she wasn't exactly thrilled by the idea the guy she liked lived with someone who shared the same parts as her.
Tough.
Amber wouldn't mess up her chances of effectively cementing herself in Stefan's life by telling him what to wear, and coping an attitude if my name was ever brought up in conversation. I'm sure once she felt she had enough of a hold on him, things would change. Until then, no one had successfully penetrated our bubble.
Stefan's eyebrows lifted up and down and he briefly stared at his feet. With him partially distracted, I drank in every inch of his toned olive skin. He was cut. Lean where he needed to be, sinewy muscles that lacy underwear wouldn't stand a chance against as his bare hands ripped them to shreds. His face…Stefan had a face that painters, sculptors, sketch artists would come to blows to immortalize on a canvas. Strong jawline, straight aristocratic nose, deep-set greenish-gray eyes. He could make you fall in love by doing something as innocuous as breathing, and you'd find yourself being irrationally jealous of the air that filled his lungs because it was in him while you weren't.
I hated him sometimes.
"You're right."
His voice snapped me out of my haze.
"No tie and definitely no sports jacket," Stefan pushed away from the threshold, tracked into my room and came to stand behind me.
I was in my robe, naked underneath, and willed my nipples not to get hard. My vanity mirror cut Stefan off at the neck so all I could see was his torso damn near pressed up against my back. He leaned down bringing his cheek to mine.
Stefan had showered. I smelled his soap and cologne, mouth watered, eyes almost fluttered. But I held it together. He could never know my secret. We were friends long before we decided to live together. He's seen me shitfaced drunk, sat with me through a pregnancy scare, held my hand during my grandfather's funeral. Stefan was more than the guy I wanted to be my scratching post. He was so much more, and what I wanted I buried because there was a chance he didn't want me in that light. Not even sexually. I was usually brave when going after who or what I wanted, but taking a chance, throwing caution to the wind where he was concerned…I couldn't take the risk.
Stefan brought a hand up and brushed it through my hair. Inwardly, my muscles tensed at his caress, ripples splintered everywhere. It was ridiculous my hair was an erogenous zone but only when Stefan touched it, which he did often enough.
"Where are you going tonight?"
His voice sounded coarse like it pained him to ask me, or maybe that was my imagination? Wishful thinking? Sometimes I'd parade guys in front of him to see if he'd have any kind of jealous reaction. Nothing.
Shrugging, I reached for my tube of lipstick. Dark colors scared Godric—my date, who was as straitlaced as they came. Dark colors suggested hypersexuality or dabbling in witchcraft in his conservative mind. Godric was sweet, don't get me wrong, but had a limited tolerance when it came to self-expression.
He came from a long line of judges, lawyers, and politicians. Image was everything.
"Godric will probably take me where he always takes me when we go out." I bit into my lip when Stefan's hand smoothed down to my shoulder. It was like he was spreading fire wherever he touched me.
His brow scrunched and his lips pulled down at the corners. "Godric is a pussy. I don't see why you continue to entertain him."
I snickered and began lining my lips in plum lipstick. "He might be a pussy but he treats me like a lady."
"So are you trying to say he's never made a move on you?"
Like what you're doing? "We've kissed."
"Was it terrible?"
"It wasn't earth shattering."
Stefan snorted and that curious hand of his reversed and then cupped my neck, his thumb rubbed circles at my nape.
"You're distracting me," I said.
"Sorry," Stefan dropped his hand but he didn't take a step back. He eyed me while I put on my lipstick and of course I drew out the action. "I like that color on you, but I'm not sure if Mr. GOP will."
Capping the lipstick, I brazened a smile. "That's why I'm wearing it. To discourage him."
My roommate shook his head. "I don't get you, Bonnie."
"You know that's not true."
"You go out with a guy who is the complete antithesis of what you usually go for," Stefan lowered his frame until he rested on his haunches. "I know he doesn't make your kitty sing."
He was too low for me to elbow him, and hearing Stefan talk about my kitty wasn't helping in preventing her from drooling. "I could, in a weird way, be turned on by Godric."
Stefan cocked a lopsided grin. "I doubt that. If a guy turns you on but you don't want to give it up, I usually hear your B.O.B."
I could be mortified by Stefan bringing up my battery-operated-boyfriend, but it made me wonder what he did on the nights he heard it going off.
"Dude, filter," I complained.
Chuckling, Stefan rose to his feet.
"I have a question for you," I swiveled on the vanity seat to face him, which was a mistake because it put me at eye-level with his package, yet I didn't take the bait by staring at it. Though I very much wanted to.
Stefan stared down at me, placed his hands on his hips, and had the audacity to wet his bottom lip with his tongue.
There went that zing again that flicked my clit. Ten fingernails sunk into my kneecaps as I got a hold of myself.
"What's your question, Bonnie Bennett?"
"Are you coming home tonight?"
Suspicion clouded his eyes. "Why? I know you're not thinking about bringing Godric back here?"
"Just answer the question, Stefan."
"I don't know. Why?"
"I just wanted to know if I need to wear my noise-cancelling headphones tonight."
That hand of his with the veins that crisscross over the back cupped my face. "I doubt they'd make much difference," he replied cockily and then shuffled toward the door, whistling.
I really wanted to stab him. Stefan popped his head around the corner. I stared at him expectantly.
"Why don't you and Godric come with us tonight? The only person I'm gonna know at the art opening is Amber and…you should come."
A double date? My fingers strummed the vanity top as I contemplated Stefan's suggestion. Godric could bore a nun to tears and eating a free cuisine meal didn't seem to be a fair trade off. However, did I want to witness Stefan, my roommate, the guy I was crushing on be lovey-dovey and affectionate with the girl he was banging?
There were worse ways to spend a Friday night. Like in jail or in a morge.
"Do you think Amber will mind?"
Stefan shrugged. "Probably, but the main objective is for her to show me off like you said. She'll get over it."
"I don't need her coming at me sideways, Stefan because you know what I will be forced to do. If you like this chick I don't want to have to hurt her feelings."
Stefan laughed. "If Amber has any complaints I have the perfect way of settling her grievances. Plus, I think it's time you two hung out."
Ugh why? The only time a guy wanted you to start hanging out with the girl he was seeing was when it was becoming serious. However, this would give me the perfect opportunity to size up Amber, see what advantage, if any, she held over Stefan.
I grabbed my cell. "I'll call Godric and tell him there's been a change in plans."
Stefan beamed and winked at me, and like a silly school girl I blushed slightly. "I owe you."
You can give me an orgasm and call it even. "I'm sure I'll think of some way you can repay me."
Stefan's smile melted straight off his face like wax held too closely to a flame. "That sounds ominous."
"For you it probably will be. Go cover up your nipples. We'll have to leave soon, right?"
"Yes, and might I make a suggestion?"
"You can doesn't mean I'll listen."
"Wear your hair down."
I blinked at Stefan owlishly wondering at his suggestion, at his angle. He very rarely gave me fashion tips.
"Why?"
His face became serious, and his eyes darkened. "Paired with your dark lipstick…you look bad as fuck."
A smile split my face. "Hair down it is."
Stefan disappeared and I stretched my arms above my head. Perhaps I was closer to my goal than I realized.
Only one way to find out…
A/N: Sooooo? We likey? More? Thanks for reading.