Substitute Boyfriend Page 6

  “You’re making excuses. Do you want to do this or not?”

  I took a short breath and then no hesitation. “All right. Okay. I’ll just feel stupid.”

  “Not when you’re done.” I laughed again, this time feeling a little nervous and embarrassed…but also excited.

  “So what do I do?”

  “I said, Get comfortable. So move away from your desk first. Why don’t you go lie down on your couch? Or sit on it and prop your legs on the coffee table. I want to picture you like that.”

  I snickered. “But you’d never know if I stayed right here.”

  I could hear the lack of amusement in his voice. “Yes, I would, Beth, because you don’t know how to lie very well.” While my mind was dealing with the shock that Roman continued to surprise me that he knew me to the core, he kept talking. He suggested a candle or two, a glass of wine, music playing softly in the background, shutting the blinds, and making sure the door was locked—since I was feeling a little paranoid. It seemed like a pain in the ass, but as I did these things, I realized it was almost like getting ready for a date. Preparing for the moment helped me look forward to what was coming next.

  I almost pointed out to him that he hadn’t known about my alter ego Eliza either until I’d told him, but I knew he’d tell me I’d been hiding it, not lying about it. And, apparently, I was pretty good at that. But that thought drifted to the back of my mind as I continued prepping myself.

  At last, I was on the couch like he’d requested. I was surrounded by a few pillows and I could smell the light scent of vanilla wafting from the candle on the end table. I took a few sips of wine and laid my head back, prepared to hear Roman’s smooth voice guide me through. “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “You’ve never done this before?”

  “Nope.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice. “All right. You’re comfortable?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re on the couch like I asked?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Describe what you’re wearing.”

  Ugh. Really? “No way. I’m afraid it’s not glamorous at all.”

  “Damn it, Beth. This isn’t gonna work if you keep being so negative.” Was I? “Just tell me what you’re wearing or make something up. Trust me.”

  Well, he was right about one thing. It wouldn’t have been lying, but it would have been making something up on the fly. I could have tried to imagine what one of my heroines would have been wearing, but I could see how that would be a pain in the ass if I had to pretend to take off something that wasn’t actually on my body. “Okay. I’m wearing…” Maybe I could exaggerate. Yeah, I could do that. What I had on was an old WWE t-shirt, complete with a hole under one of the arms and the frayed hems. The shorts? Sure, they were cute and easy to describe. Okay, I could get into this, but my old t-shirt wasn’t going to be the stuff of writer’s fantasy. “I’m wearing a pink babydoll tee.”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “No, black.”

  “Which is it?”

  “Which do you prefer?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  I was going to piss him off and ruin the moment if I didn’t concentrate. I had to let go of the nerves. “Okay, a pink babydoll tee.” He must have already been picturing it in his head. No need to ruin it. So what if the real shirt I was wearing was black and so old I had no idea what wrestler’s body used to grace it? “Um…it’s thin and hugs my body, so you can see the outline of my bra underneath the shirt.”

  “Oh, I like that. What color’s your bra?”

  I wasn’t really wearing one that day. It was a lazy Sunday and I hadn’t bothered. But my heroine… “White.”

  “What else?”

  “Black denim shorts. They have some big flower pattern on them, so there are splashes of pink.”

  “Good.”

  “No shoes. Just…smooth legs all the way to my toenails. Also painted pink.”

  “Mmm.”

  “What about you?”

  “What do you find sexier—workout clothes, something I’d wear in the classroom, or if we were just hanging out?”

  Hmm…I was having troubles picturing Roman as one of my book boyfriends. I was finding him more intriguing and lots sexier the longer we spent time together in an intimate capacity and, to that end, I was picturing him. And just what would I find he looked hotter in?

  Well, now that I knew the guy was fucking ripped, I would prefer him in nothing. But what would I want to tear off him? “Let’s see…maybe workout clothes. You know—maybe a muscle shirt. Oh, but I like the way you look in jeans.” Oh…I’d said that out loud? Yeah…since Roman and I had hooked up, I’d started thinking about him more and more in that way.

  “Okay, so how about a blue wifebeater?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Jeans. Black okay?”

  No way was I gonna tell him I liked him in his “work uniform” too—he usually wore a button-down shirt and black slacks and he always looked nice, professional in a teacherly way, but now I knew what those shirts were hiding. I wanted to see more of him. My mind started racing, picturing what he looked like in the clothes he’d described. “Yeah.”

  “Your eyes closed?”

  “Yeah.”

  “So…I’m lying beside you and I’m kissing your neck.” I smiled and used my left hand to pull my hair back, tilting my head, imagining his lips were feathering down it, leaving a damp trail. It was then that I realized my phone might be a hindrance, so I held it out and changed it to speaker and told Roman that was what I was doing. “You okay if a neighbor overhears me?”

  I smiled. The wine was settling in nicely and I wasn’t quite so uptight. “It’ll be like you were here the whole time.”

  He chuckled again. “Especially if I can make you come hard.”

  The smile slipped off my face as I felt my inhibitions melt away. He was right. I might be the one touching myself—and he knew that—but he would be the one guiding the action, and I would be the one doing the same for him. This could be a lot of fun. “Let’s see what you can do.” I relaxed my head against the back of the couch once more, closing my eyes again, focusing on his voice.

  I could hear a slight smile in his voice. “I’m going to lift that pink t-shirt of yours. Slowly. I’m kissing up your belly, one inch at a time.” I could almost see his head there and I wished I could touch him then.

  I could pretend, something I’d grown pretty good at. “I weave my fingers through your hair, holding your head in my hands.”

  “That’s pretty good. How do my lips on you feel?”

  “Hot.”

  “I’m pushing your shirt up higher.”

  I swallowed and, essentially, broke character. I thought I had it, but I felt unsure. I had to know I was doing it right. “Hey, Roman, I gotta ask a question.”

  “Yeah?” He sounded kind of dreamy and far off…but also amused.

  “Am I supposed to, you know…pretend like you’re here?”

  “That’s the idea.”

  “Uh…and, um…”

  “Yes, Beth. It’s okay to touch yourself. That’s the whole point.”

  There were times I was grateful that Roman could read my mind. This was definitely one of them. So I let him talk me through it—and I interjected when I could, but a lot of times, he would have to ask me or prompt me. He was patient, knowing I’d never done this kind of thing before.

  It might have been harder imagining he was there if I hadn’t been able to hear his voice and know how turned on he was getting too. As I imagined his lips on my breasts, my neck, my inner thighs, his head between my legs, I got completely into the moment, and I could hear his breathing growing heavier over the phone, so I knew he was close too. The nice thing, I guess, about doing it this way was I could tell exactly what needed to happen for me to get there—a slight shift of my leg, for instance. I knew when it was time to speed up the action, and as I got closer, Roman’s voice seemed to be farther away, but
he was all I could see in my mind. In my head, his wicked hot naked body was hovering over mine as he drove inside me.

  I don’t know why the picture in my head was in black and white. Maybe because it was damn near perfect and movie like.

  “Ohhhhhhh, God,” I moaned, yelling probably louder than I ever had before when reaching climax. It was intense too, unbelievably amazing. I realized in my haze that I could probably be heard in the hallway, so I bit my lip, but that didn’t stop me from taking care of myself and seeing my orgasm through to the end. When I was done, I clamped my thighs closed over my hand, breathing heavily, collapsing my head back against the sofa.

  I let out one last long sigh, listening for Roman. I was afraid of interrupting him if he was still going, and I couldn’t remember where I left him off…if that makes any damn bit of sense. Finally, I heard him breathe, “Holy shit.”

  I smiled, finding my sense of humor. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

  “Yeah. But how would you feel about a little company tonight?”

  Oh, like this was the appetizer? “You’re on.”

  * * *

  A few days later, we made plans to get together, and I knew we’d wind up doing something fun. I arrived at Roman’s place after ten, our agreed-upon time that night. We both had lots of grading to do. Summer classes were not only more intense for students due to how compact they were, but they were tougher for instructors too for the same reason. It wasn’t like we could teach less just because there were fewer weeks in the semester. So we decided work first, then play, and sometimes that meant much later in the day.

  It was hot out and I had an older car. The A/C hadn’t worked in years. Ordinarily, I would just drive with the windows down and that would be good enough, but the last two days had been hotter than usual. Roman had asked if I’d wanted to check out the pool and hot tub at his apartment complex. I said no way to the hot tub, but the pool sounded like it might be welcome relief. I had a bikini in my purse—one that I hadn’t worn in probably four years, because, even though I liked swimming, it just wasn’t something I thought about doing. My gym even had a pool but the thought rarely crossed my mind.

  In this heat, though, water sounded perfect.

  So I got to Roman’s place and he opened the door. He saw me in shorts and a Bring Me the Horizon t-shirt and said, “Nice outfit, but you’re not gonna swim in that, are you?”

  I sighed as I walked through the door. “No, of course not. But I wasn’t going to drive across town in a string bikini.” He raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “I’m going to use your bathroom really fast.” Okay, yeah, so it was silly to undress and dress in private, but part of me still felt like we were friends only. The other part of me—the one that was more rational—knew that if I undressed in front of Roman, we’d likely never make it to the pool.

  I was a little nervous. Would the royal blue bikini still fit okay? I hadn’t gained any weight since I’d worn it last, but everything had shifted and I’d built up more muscle. It had been stupid to not try it on before leaving my place, but there wasn’t much I could do about it now. If it didn’t fit, I’d just swim in my underwear.

  It fit, though, and it hugged me. It barely covered anything—just the parts that would take me from acceptable to indecent by legal definitions—but I was already a little cooler. I came out of the bathroom and immediately felt self-conscious again, because I could tell Roman appreciated it. I gave him a look and said, “Are we swimming or not?”

  He acted annoyed. “Yeah.” He pulled his t-shirt off and threw it on the couch. He was wearing shorts, but they didn’t look like swimming trunks—they just looked like regular shorts. “I have a towel for you,” he said, picking up two off the coffee table and tossing one at me. “Let’s go.”

  It wasn’t cool out. Sure, it was cooler than it had been when the sun had been beating down on us a few hours earlier, but the darkness didn’t offer much relief. I could hear a few crickets in the distance celebrating who knew what, but I could also hear voices scattered throughout his complex. It was a busy place with lots of sociable people, and I knew then that the pool area might be crowded. It was a Thursday night, though, so I expected the noise to die down soon. Surely some folks there had work the next day. I knew I did, even though my class was later in the morning. We walked between a few buildings and I realized then that they weren’t all rowdy. Some were quiet and lots of apartments had most of their lights off.

  When we got to the pool building, though, all the lights were out. I’d never been to the pool area at his complex, so I hadn’t known what to expect, but from what I could see, the two longer walls were almost entirely glass whereas the walls on the sides were solid. I could tell that during the day, the pool area must have been beautiful with all that clear, natural light streaming in. Bummer we couldn’t enjoy it. “Damn,” I said, unable to hide my disappointment.

  “What?”

  “Too bad it’s locked up.”

  “Yeah, they lock it at nine.” So, at this point, I was wondering why he was toying with me, but he was pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. I couldn’t figure out what he was doing, but he took a credit card out and slid the wallet back in his pocket. “Hold this,” he said, handing me his towel. He wedged the card in between the door and the jamb, sliding it down slowly, and I couldn’t tell exactly what he was doing, but he grabbed the handle with his left hand. After several seconds, he pulled the door open. “After you,” he said.

  Ah, so he’d forced the lock open. “Roman, we’re not supposed to be in here, right?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So? Isn’t that breaking and entering?” I was walking inside, despite my protests.

  “Technically, but if it makes you feel any better, my rent pays for use of the facilities. I’m just being creative because the hours they have it unlocked are not conducive to my schedule. I still realize that I am personally responsible for any injury that occurs to my person while I’m here.” I rolled my eyes, but I doubted he could see it. Even though some ambient light spilled in through the windows, it was difficult to make out details. “And that is no different than if I’d been here at three in the afternoon. So relax.”

  He walked closer to the pool area. It appeared to be, for the most part, a pretty open area, and I could at least make out the pool and the surroundings. There were a few chaise lounges and one table with three chairs and some shelves. That was where Roman was heading. I followed. When I reached him, he took the towels from me and set them on one of the shelves and then slipped his shoes off. “Hot tub or pool first?”

  Ugh. I felt sticky and miserable from the relentless heat. “Hot tub? You won’t get me in there till fall.”

  “Then pool it is. That’s probably good, ‘cause I don’t know if I could figure out how to turn it on.” He was peeling off his shorts to reveal what appeared to be swimming trunks underneath. He also placed the shorts on the shelf next to the towels. Then he pointed toward the pool. “Shallow end is on this side. Last one in is a rotten egg.” He sprinted off toward the water.

  I still had my flip flops on and hadn’t planned on running, so I could be the rotten egg. I was looking forward to cooling off in the water, though. I kicked off my shoes while I watched his shadow run towards the middle of the pool and then he took a shallow dive. I planned to be a little more dignified about it, instead walking toward the pool. By the time I got to the edge, Roman’s head was back above water and he shouted, “It’s great.” I was nervous about the volume of his voice, because if people could hear him outside the walls, we’d be caught and get in huge trouble. I’d tell him that, but no way was I going to yell it back. I could make out concrete steps on the shallow end that descended into the water, and more than half of the steps were buried underneath it. I’d be able to ease myself in rather than jumping like my friend had. And I was glad, because the water was cooler than I’d expected. Maybe instead I had been hotter than I’d thought. Either way, the t
emperature was a little shocking, and I wanted to adjust.

  Roman started swimming toward the shallow end until he stood and started walking up to where I was. My feet finally touched the floor of the pool, and my lower body was getting used to the coolness of the water. I certainly couldn’t complain about the heat anymore, though. I stayed close to the edge, planning to stretch my arms out while the rest of my body floated, but I had to ease my way into the deeper end first.

  Roman got close to me before I got too far in and he wrapped his arms around my waist. “You realize we have this whole place to ourselves?”

  I grinned and kissed him, resting my open palms on his chest. “Uh, yeah, but last time I checked, this place can be seen through from several different angles.”

  He laughed. “How many people do you see pressing their faces against the glass?” Before I could answer him, his lips were back on mine. He had a great point, so I decided to have fun with him.

  The water made me feel light and cool. Even in an air conditioned room, I wouldn’t feel as cool to the core as this pool made me feel right now, and yet I felt warm in another way. The way he held me, I could feel that he’d grown hard, and I decided to have a little fun with him. He was the one who hadn’t been worrying about people watching. I, on the other hand, found the idea a little nerve wracking. But no one said I had to get naked. I slinked my hands down his chest and then his belly and slid my hand inside his trunks. I wrapped it around his cock and squeezed slightly until I felt his reaction—a pause as he kissed me—and his brain shifted attention.

  I almost smiled then and used my other hand to pull his trunks down. The water was too cool for me to feel heated up, but it wasn’t hindering Roman at all. I bent slightly but his lips stayed on mine, and I managed to get his trunks down enough to let his cock free. Then I wrapped both hands around it. With the weight of the water, I couldn’t move quickly; add to that, the water wasn’t much of a lubricant, so it wasn’t like I could glide freely over his shaft…but I knew I could still work a little magic.

  I took the head of his cock in between the index finger and thumb of my right hand and rubbed it, kept massaging it until his jaw slackened and I knew it was having the effect I’d been going for. Once I had his attention, I started massaging the shaft with my left hand, letting the thumb and index finger of that hand also do a lot of the work. I opened my eyes and looked at Roman in the semidarkness of the cavernous room that should have been quiet but wasn’t. It was full of echoes and water sounds, and I knew our quiet voices couldn’t be overheard, but what if we got noisy and rambunctious? Would we be heard all over the courtyard of his apartment complex?