Page 14 of Romanced By the Rat
Jeremy doesn’t forget, though. He’s the one staring at my rodent body. He blinks rapidly, smiling and returning to his cleaning. “Whatever, if you want to try to make her come tomorrow night, be my guest, I’m a vessel at your disposal.” He means to lighten the mood, make things more casual, but that’s the problem—his words never come out as he intends them to. Unless they do and he’s fighting to share his true meaning.
I’m aroused, painfully so. It’s obvious Jeremy wants this tension to end, but I’m not there yet. “The next thing you’re going to tell me is that you’ve never made yourself come more than once in asession. ”
He laughs. “Come on, dude. Now I know you’re fucking with me.”
“I bet I could show you how to come multiple times.” It’s not subtle this time. I’ve said the words that there’s no going backfrom. I’ve enjoyed controlling Jeremy, using his body to act on my passions, but I can’t deny my primal attraction toward him.
He obviously doesn’t feel the same way—I’m a rat—but I can’t help but notice his breath slowing, his eyelid drooping slightly as if letting the weight of my words settle over him. The moment is gone as quickly as it came. He pushes it away. “Whatever, man. I’m going home. I’m tired.” He turns to walk away, not before calling back. “I’ll be here at four tomorrow to pick you up for our date.”
I watch him go. I know what he means, but I can’t help hoping that there’s more weight to his words.
Chapter ten
Jeremy
Ican’t believe it. My apartment looks nothing like it did two hours ago. It should have been evident that the art my mom gave me from her travels to Greece would look better on the wall above my table instead of shoved in the back of my closet, but decorating has never been my forte. And the candles hidden in the back of the cabinet above the stove—who would have thought they still smelled like pine and could give the small apartment a warm glow?
I picked Ramsay up from the restaurant early today because I needed some help getting ready for my date with Charlotte. I figured he’d assist me in organizing the pizza toppings I bought for our meal, but that little rat had much bigger plans, most of them involving turning my space from a sad bachelor's pad into a love interest’s swanky chateau in a steamy rom-com. Okay, maybe I’m giving my straightened-up home a little too much credit, but color me impressed.
After our fight—or whatever it was—at Ratcliff’s last night, I was starting to reconsider this relationship. Of course, it’s unconventional, but I never anticipated things would get thisunhinged. I’ve never previously been attracted to men, and he isn’t even a man on the outside. I don’t find his furry appearance appealing, I’m not a sicko, but his words, the way he knows what I want without me having to speak—I can’t deny it does something to me. It’s all too much, and this can’t go on forever, but after seeing what he did with my space—I might need him more than I thought. Charlotte isn’t just a hook up. As much fun as fucking her was, I want more. I want her, for real, and if that’s possible, I need Ramsay.
“What time is it?” Ramsay asks, carefully rearranging the mini pickles on the charcuterie board. I don’t have the heart to ask if he washed his paws.
I glance at my watch. “5:30 ”
“Shit, she’ll be here any minute.”
“Dude, calm down. The place is perfect.” I motion to the expertly-lit room around me. The island counter top is dressed with powdered pizza dough, small white bowls filled with toppings, and two full glasses of wine—Pinot Noir, of course.
A knock sounds from the door.
“Shit, shit, shit. Put me on your head!” Ramsay yells, scrambling up my arm.
I sigh, grabbing him from my shoulder and placing my trusty baseball cap over him. I’m not nearly as nervous as he is, but I guess I’m not the one who has to think too hard during this date.
“You’re going to need a new hat. This one is getting old.”
I shake my head, not willing to argue about how hats can’t be a forever solution. I pull the door open, and my balance is knocked off- kilter. I just saw her yesterday, but she’s stunning—wearing a thin-strapped red dress, revealing all her curves and offering an ample view of the top of her full breasts.
“Say, hi. Idiot.”
“Hi!” I blink back to reality. “I’m sorry, come on in.”
Before she enters, she points to my head, and I quiver. “What’s with the hat?”
“What do you mean?”
“You wore it for our last date? Is it lucky or something?”
Shit. I’m hoping Ramsay is thinking fast because I’ve got nothing. “Tell her you’re growing out your hair and it keeps it out of your face.”
I repeat his words, and she scrunches her face as she registers. She doesn’t buy it completely, but I doubt she suspects I’m hiding a talking rat. She doesn’t press more. Instead, her head swivels as she takes in my surroundings. “Wow, your place looks great. Much better than my mess.”
I don’t want her to feel bad about herself. My place was a bit of a mess only two hours ago, but I can’t tell her that. “How about I come over later this week and help you put your place together? I’ve suddenly developed a knack for organizing and decorating.”
“That sounds perfect.” She grabs my hand, pulling it to her chest. I can feel her heartbeat quickening. I don’t need a rat in my ear to read the look on her face. She wants something from me, and it’s not food. But then a rat does whisper in my ear, ruining the moment. “Food first,” he orders.
I step back. “I thought it would be fun if we made our own pizzas.” I motion to the countertop.
