Page 4 of My Italian Roommate

“Ah, yes. Well, doctor, I grew up in a large family in the Italian countryside. My father was a businessman but he later went into politics. I have three sisters and a very sweet mother. She loves to cook and garden. Very normal, well rounded…not the kind of thing that makes a man grow up to be an ax murderer.”

“Excellent,” she lets out a little giggle and I can’t help but smile. “And what about your work? You race cars? What’s that like?”

I take a deep breath and lean in toward her, “Well, just imagine sitting in a tiny, one-seat vehicle with the power to, theoretically, lift off the ground and fly away if it had wings. You sit at the starting line surrounded on each side by other men with the same amount of power at their fingertips who want nothing more than to prove that they can control this lightning in a box better than you, Better than anyone.

“The lights flash and the flag drops and your mind focuses on just one thing—speed. The adrenaline starts pumping and you feel your heart beating between your ears. You can see the track but not with your eyes. It’s etched like a map on the inside of your brain and you gobble up the pavement like a hungry monster. It’s a rush like nothing else in the world and then, it ends. If you did your job right, you crossed the finish line first.”

“Wow. Sounds exciting and scary. You really love it, huh?”

“It’s better than eating, better than drinking. It makes me feel alive.”

“Well, it must be amazing to get to do something you’re so passionate about,” she blushes.

If she only knows how passionately I want to do her.

“What about you, little girl? What are you passionate about?”

“Nothing specific right now. I just want to find my place in the world, you know? To feel like I’m making a difference. I guess that sounds pretty boring for someone like you. I mean, you’re famous, right?”

“Famous? Funny, people think that’s a good thing to be but it isn’t. Not really. Sure, it’s fun in the beginning. All that attention can be pretty addictive but, believe me, it gets old fast. I’d give anything for the chance to just have a quiet weekend somewhere nobody recognizes me.”

She smiles and says, “Well, I didn’t recognize you. Stay here all weekend and you’ll get your wish.”

I look deeply into her eyes and say, “Here’s hoping that all of our wishes come true.”

We finish our dinner and talk deep into the night. I love listening to her. She speaks with the innocence and enthusiasm of a child. That’s something you don’t hear much on the circuit. All the girls are always trying to show how smart, tough, or sexy they are. Of course, it’s mostly a façade and that’s what turns me off. Call me old-fashioned but I like authenticity and there’s nothing in the world sexier than a girl who isn’t afraid to be vulnerable and real. I’ve never felt this drawn to someone I just met.

“I don’t like to go to bed on a full stomach but it’s getting late and I have an early class tomorrow,” she tells me. “You’re welcome to stay up. I’m a pretty heavy sleeper. You won’t wake me.”

“No, I have to be at the track early, too. I think you’re right. It’s time to hit the sack.”

I help her clear the dishes and follow her to the bedroom, trying to keep my excited manhood under wraps. The last thing I need is for her to spot it and get the wrong idea. Not that I wouldn’t love to slip it inside her and make her moan, but I don’t think this is the right time for that.

She strips down to her t-shirt and panties, which almost makes my eyes bulge out of their sockets, and I take off my shirt. I wait for her to get situated on her side of the bed then join her under the covers. There’s about a foot between us, but I can feel the heat coming off her skin.

It’s supposed to feel awkward, but it doesn’t. Like this is normal, like we’ve been doing this for years.

“Good night, Mario. See you in the morning,” she whispers.

“Good night, Mallory,” I reply but I know that sleep isn’t going to come easy.

I close my eyes and pretend that I’m trying, but all I can do is listen to her breath sounds and imagine how nice it would be to make her heart beat faster. I may not be getting the peaceful night of rest that I was hoping for, but I got something even better. I’m lying in bed with this girl. She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s mine.

She rolls over to face away from me and I trace the curves of her body with my eyes, wondering what she might do if I just leaned forward and kissed her on the neck. These thoughts do nothing but make the swelling in my groin grow larger. I reach down and touch the tender tip through my shorts. It’s so sensitive now that just a stroke or two would cause me to cream my shorts. I take a few deep breaths and try to take my mind off the sweet ass that is now brushed against my leg.

Tomorrow is the last day before the semi-finals. I should be thinking about my competition. How Dylan McGee always hugs the third curve before gunning, leaving the competition in the dust…but I can’t. Screw the race and screw Dylan McGee. I don’t want to think about anything but Mallory.

She rolls over and throws her arm across my chest. Oh, fuck. How the hell am I supposed to get through this night without touching her? I’m in agony and yet, I wouldn’t trade having her body up against me for anything. I wrap my arm around her and gently stroke her hair. She sighs and nuzzles up even closer to me. Her breasts press against my ribs and she drapes her left leg across my thighs. If she bends her knee an inch, she’ll be rubbing against my fully erect cock. I think, maybe if I can sleep, the need that I feel for her will subside just a little, so I close my eyes and breathe in the scent of her.

It’s going to be a long, long night.

4

THE MORNING AFTER

MALLORY

Oh boy, what have I done? I wake up from what has to be the best night’s sleep of my life to find that, at some point during the night, I wrapped my entire body around this man. Maybe he’s still sleeping and hasn’t noticed this gross invasion of his sleeping space. I raise my head slowly to peer at his face and nearly die of embarrassment. There he is—all bright-eyed and smiling down at me.

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