Page 36 of Our Broken Pieces
“No, not scared at all. Did you take the afternoon off?”
He shakes his head. “No, just stopping to grab lunch on the way to Providence.”
“Oh, yeah, good.” I finish my water. “I, um, did some laundry and your clothes were in the dryer.”
He looks up. “Oh, I’m sorry, they were just my gym clothes.”
“Yeah, I folded them and put them in front of your door.”
“You didn’t have to do that.”
“No worries, I just wanted to be helpful.”
“Well, thank you. I’m going to make a sandwich. Do you want one?”
“No, thank you. I’m about to get ready for work.”
“I’ll make an extra one. You can take it to work if you want. If not, I’ll eat it this evening.”
“Sounds good. Thank you.”
I stand by the island as he moves around the kitchen. While he puts together the sandwiches, I can’t help but stare at his hands. His strong hands, his thick fingers. What would they feel like on my skin? The cooling effects of the water are gone as my entire body feels hot as I get lost in my thoughts.
“Sorry we haven’t seen each other much this week.”
His voice brings me back to the present moment, and I’m almost embarrassed about how I’m eying him. Almost.
“It’s all good. I’m off this weekend, so you’ll have plenty of time with me.” I slap his arm.
“We have dinner at Jax and Audrey’s tomorrow.”
“We do.” I fill up my water bottle. With the images still lingering in my mind, I can’t be close to him right now. I can’t look him in the eyes while trying to process what I found. “I’m going to get ready.”
“I’ll be gone by the time you come back out. Have a good day at work.”
“Thanks. Make sure you drive safely.”
With that, I head to my bathroom, close the door, and lean back against it. I look up at the ceiling and I want to scream out, “Marcus is into fun bedroom stuff!!” but I can’t. I can’t tell anyone this information. I wonder what else he’s into. The images return to my mind. I’m tied up and blindfolded. Or maybe I’m tied up, ass up as he spanks me. Shit. Thank God he’s fully clothed in my mind.
I shouldn’t have thought of clothing, because now my brain decides Marcus should be naked. My heart rate picks up as I close my eyes and lean my head back against the door. I wonder how big he is. I wonder what his bedroom voice sounds like.
Fuck!
My eyes pop open, and I turn to the sink, splashing cold water on my face. Nope, I can’t think about him like that. I feel shame creeping up and I shake it off. I’m just allowing my imagination to roam. I tell myself, next time, I need to imagine someone else’s face.
I stand up and walk over to turn on the shower and strip down. I never would have pegged Marcus as such a sexual free spirit. A smile forms on my lips because I guess the saying is true.
It really is the quiet ones that are the craziest.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Marcus
Gigi finally comes out of her room around noon on Saturday. She looks tired, rubbing her eyes. Her red curls are in a mess on the top of her head, t-shirt hanging off one shoulder and she has on those damn shorts she wears. Only today they’re the shortest I’ve seen yet and to top it off, she has on thick black thigh high socks. Fuck, thigh highs are one of my favorite things a woman could wear. Doesn’t matter if it’s socks or stockings. My eyes move upward, fixating on her exposed, freckled shoulder, and I feel my cock thicken in my jeans.
My brain scrambles with the feeling. This doesn’t happen for me at just the sight of some skin. We’ve spent so much time together over the past couple years, and my body never crossed that line with her. But the last couple of weeks have beendifferent. She’s single, I’m not in a situationship. It’s as if my subconscious realizes the freedom we both have now. Maybe I’ve been stuffing it down all this time and didn’t realize it. I almost feel panic at this moment, because it feels like the floodgates have opened and I can’t control it.
I’ve always appreciated Gigi’s looks, her wild hair, and her small frame. But looking at her right now, I think of how her breasts would probably fit perfectly in my hands, the perfect curve of her hips where my hands could hold her in place. I rub a hand down my face with frustration and look down at the spreadsheet I’m working on. I feel like a sick fuck looking at her like that and an even worse friend thinking about the erection I’m fighting.
