Natalie grabs the side of my hip and tugs me closer, tossing her leg over mine and tucking her head into the crook of my neck. “Better.”
I press a kiss to her forehead as I run my fingers down her spine. She smells so good like this, the strawberries present but muted against the sweet scent of sex. It’s intoxicating.
Her breaths quickly even out, and I wonder if she truly fell asleep that fast. Carefully, I lean back to turn off the light on her nightstand, trying not to jostle her body too much.
“Stay until I fall asleep?” she asks, her tone surprisingly timid, given that my face was just buried in her pussy. “Unless you need to go. I’d understand.”
My sweet Natalie. Hoping for the bare minimum of decency and expecting half of that. She has no idea how tightly I’m already wrapped around her finger. I plan to raise the bar of what she deserves myself, spoiling her with every comfort she’s ever desired. If she’ll let me. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”
She lets out a little sigh of relief, her warm breath fanning my chest. “Thank you.”
In my arms, I feel her muscles relax, one by one, as she falls asleep, and her soft snores fill the room.
I stay for another hour, maybe more, just holding her, loving the way she fits against me. There are moments when her brows pinch together and her hand grips my side, and I wonder if she’s caught in a bad dream. I lightly kiss her nose, and her grip loosens, as if she needed to know that I’m still here before returning to restful slumber.
Eventually, I slip out from under her, pausing at the foot of the bed when I spot her panties on the floor. I want to take them, smell them, keep them in my pocket as a reminder of how I made her come. But that would surely be a breach of her privacy, yes? And a clear violation of the rules we’ve set as roommates?
Those rules are likely obsolete at this point, however. We’re no longer just roommates. So…what are we?
While I currently don’t have an answer to that, the lines we previously drew have been blurred. Lowering into a crouch, I snatch the panties off the floor and quietly close the door behind me as I leave. In the hallway, I press the panties against my nose. My room in the attic is another two floors away. I can’t wait any longer. My knees buckle as I inhale her ambrosial scent. So fucking perfect.
I stay (mostly) quiet as I jerk off right outside her bedroom door, on my knees with my pants and underwear down around my thighs, my groans muffled by the soft cotton of her purple panties blocking my airways. I come in a handful of strokes, unsurprisingly.
She might not be happy I stole her underwear, but I already have plans for how I’ll make it up to her in the morning.
“I hope you like sausage,” I say as Natalie enters the kitchen. My heart leaps at the sight of her. Her blonde curls are mussed from sleep, and there are creases on her cheek from her pillow. An oversized t-shirt hangs loosely off her body, the hem hitting the middle of her thick thighs. Her nipples poke through the threadbare fabric, making my mouth water. I swear I can still taste her on my tongue.
She is radiant.
“Um,” I stammer, almost forgetting the plate I’m holding in my hand. “D-Do you like sausage? I’ve never seen you eat meat, but there was some in the freezer, so I thought–”
“Mm, I love sausage,” she replies, grabbing a napkin and taking the nearest stool at the counter. “Both kinds.” She winks.
I lean on the counter next to her, crowding her space. “Are you flirting with me, sweetheart?”
She giggles, the sound delicate and lilting. “Hey, will you come for a walk with me in a little bit? I want to show Ethel this book on gardening my coworker lent me.”
Ethel? After she almost cut Natalie’s throat with her shears? “Why would you want to talk to Ethel after what happened?”
She takes a few bites of the French toast I made for her and moans, the sound making my dick throb with need. “She was scared and confused. This time, if you’re with me, I can properly introduce myself without her freaking out.”
I don’t understand why this is so important to her. “Why do you care what Ethel thinks of you? Do you think you’ll even see her that much while you’re here?”
Her expression turns somber. “I don’t want my presence to upset anyone––dead or alive. We both live here. It’d be nice for us to get along.”
Natalie might have the softest heart of anyone I’ve met, and that’s what concerns me. I don’t think Ethel would’ve killed her if I hadn't shown up, though maybe that’s wishful thinking. Would she have hurt her? That, I don’t know. Ethel is unpredictable. And even though she doesn’t deserve it, Natalie is eager to not only forgive her but become her friend. It’s this emotional generosity that leads Natalie to tolerating poor treatment from others and ending up with partners who aren’t worthy of her attention. That’s my theory, anyway.
My stomach twists when a chilling thought enters my mind.
Am I one of those partners?
Just another sloppy simpleton like Mark? An insufferable asshole like Kyle?
I wasn’t good enough for Susanna. She was eager to remind me of that on a daily basis.
What makes me good enough for a woman as gorgeous and kind as Natalie?
“Please?” she asks, making me realize she’s still waiting for my answer.
