“Come on. They can take care of themselves, and here comes the cavalry.” He points to a group of policemen making their way to the crowd.
“What the hell was all that?” I say as we jog back to the loft.
“I guess we were spotted yesterday and someone told someone, and then someone else, and thus, the mob formed.” Jeff shrugs his shoulders. “I’m so glad I’m not famous,” he says, slowing down as he realizes I’m not keeping up with him.
“See? How can I compete with that? It’s a lost cause. That woman who wanted Colin’s baby was beautiful—crazy as hell, yes—but beautiful.”
“But—” Jeff starts.
“Don’t you dare say I’m beautiful on the inside and any guy worth anything would see that.”
“I’m so happy you put words into my mouth. I was going to say, before I was rudely interrupted by a petulant child, that woman doesn’t hold a candle to you,” he comments.
I groan. “Jeff, why don’t you like girls? It would be so much easier for me.”
“Even if I did, you wouldn’t be my type. I’d go for the average ones.” He gives me a devilish grin and a side hug. “Let’s go finish our run in the gym. First one there gets the deluxe treadmill.”
He takes off, leaving me behind. I look back at the crowd and the police trying to control them and then follow Jeff, not caring for once if I win.
I’m dripping wet. My hair, clothes, socks, shoes and underwear are drenched with sweat. A shower is desperately needed, and I leave the gym hoping I don’t bump into anyone. Jeff went up about half an hour ago, but I needed to work off my excess frustration. I hit the elevator button and hear the doors opening behind me. Please don’t let it be them. Let it be Brad, Julie, or even Kevin, who will tease me, I can handle that. I don’t turn around but hear footsteps behind me. They sound like sneakers.
“Dora, what happened? You look like you’ve been caught in a downpour,” Drew asks.
“Nope, just good old-fashioned sweat. I had an awesome workout in your fabulous gym. Did you guys get to finish your run?” I ask as I enter the elevator and turn around, seeing the three looking me up and down. “Haven’t you ever seen a person sweat before? Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to get on? I need to take a shower. Some people have stuff to do today.”
They all grin at me and then move forward before the doors shut. I have a great view as they stand in front of me, and my eyes focus on Colin’s physique, which is still visible, even with his sweats on.
Standing in the cold shower—yes, cold—which I have to take since I’m so overheated from daydreaming for the few seconds it took the elevator to reach our floor. In my imagination, Colin had stripped naked in front of me before wrapping me up in his arms and pinning up against the wall of the elevator. We were a hot mess together, and I couldn’t tell where his mouth stopped and mine began. After the ding of the elevator snapped my from my dirty thoughts, I suddenly realized how wet I was between the thighs and had to rush into the shower immediately in an attempt to quell my urges.
I know I’ve said it many times before, but I have to find a sensible guy to hook up with. Not just for sex, but for a real relationship. Someone who could totally rock my world and make me forget the dream guy down the hall.
Jeff is lying on my bed when I open the bathroom door after my shower. I toss the towel I’ve been drying my hair with at his head.
“What was that for?” he asks.
“The smug look on your face.”
“Tell him how you feel, then.”
“I don’t feel anything.” He grins and I stick my tongue out at him. “Okay, I have feelings. Like the feeling of drool running down my chin when I see him, or the feeling of a totally dry mouth when I think of him naked. But that’s all. I need a nice guy though.”
Jeff stretches, his body again only clad in his pajama bottoms, a visual delight for both males and females. “Nice guys are boring. You want me to ask him if he has feelings for you? I know Drew does.”
“Don’t you dare. As far as Drew is concerned, he’s flighty, and not serious at all. Enough of this talk. We need to do what you’re here for.”
“To lie on your bed and look hot,” he says with a smexy smile.
“No, to study, silly. Now get your butt up and get dressed.
His breath is hot on my neck. His tongue runs from my ear down my neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. A hand cradles my face as his tongue moves slowly back up my neck, and his lips meet mine. His tongue probes and gently forces my mouth open and then—oh my sweet heaven—our tongues meet, and I swear my blood starts to boil. His hand skims down my arm and then moves inward, caressing my sensitive stomach, drawing lazy circles as his lips dance with mine. His hand moves upward, and I feel my stomach plunge as he stops just beneath my right breast. I hold my breath, waiting for his touch, silently begging for the torture to stop. I want him to run his hands all over me.
His naked body pushes against me and I feel his hardness. Oh my, his hardness. I reach for the pulsating flesh as his hand finds its target, and my senses go on overload. I moan in his mouth and his kiss intensifies, filled with a passion I have only dreamed of.
“What the hell are you doing in that bed? Are you in pain?”
A voice pierces the haze, making me feel as if I’ve been doused with freezing cold water. It was a dream, just a dream. I’m all hot and bothered and drenched in sweat and filled with frustration.
“Cat got your tongue?” Jeff asks. “I swear, you wake me up from an awesome dream where I’m eating a piece of the best cheesecake I’ve ever had, only to hear you moaning. Menstrual cramps?”
“Something like that. Go back to sleep.”
I jump out of bed and close the bathroom door, resting my head on the cool wood. The dream was so real. I can still feel his hand on my breast and his tongue caressing mine. I move from the door and turn on the shower. I feel like a horny teenage boy.
12
“Dora? Dora?”
Jeff’s chipper voice snaps me out of my daydream. Not really a daydream, more of a recap of my night dream.
“It’s time to go to our institute of higher learning, and you don’t want to be late for your art final.”
“Don’t remind me,” I moan.
I thought art would be a safe class to take. I draw pretty well and I love the teacher, but he can be a little out there at times. Last week we did pottery. Not ordinary pottery, but abstract. Easy, right? No, it had to have depth. So I made a deep pot. Not what the teacher wanted though, and I ended up with a C. So my final, which is half my grade, needs to be outstanding. I wish I knew what he had planned, but when asked, all he did was smile. Darn professor.
A ringtone from my phone heralds a call from my all-knowing mom. She must have heard me think that cuss word last night, or should I say early this morning?
“Hi, Mom. I can’t talk long. I’m off to take my art final.”
“Are you sick, Dora? I sensed last night you were feverish. Darn Henry wouldn’t tell me why. I hate this no-family clause.”
“No, Mom, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. You have nothing to worry about. How’s Dad?” I ask, changing the subject.
“Don’t change the subject. Something is brewing and I know I’m right. Tell me if I’m interfering, okay?”
“Mom, you’re interfering.”
“I only care about you and want what’s best for you. Maybe I need a trip to the city,” she rambles. As usual, she hasn’t heard me. “I’m so stressed right now. Your grandma is reading that new adult book, something about graphic sex. I’ve heard it’s not for the faint of heart. Of course, she’s read racy stuff before, but you know she’ll talk about it at Sunday dinner, even though I’ve told her it wouldn’t be appropriate.”