Page 49 - Interior_SPRING SUMMER FALLING_2021

SPRING SUMME R FALLING | 49

No, it’s not what you think. I don’t have a phobia about living with women
that causes me to dislike them once we live under the same roof; this is a different
crazy. It is a Selena Gomez “Can’t Keep My Hands to Myself” kind of crazy. How
do I know that? Because Sanya volunteered to cook last night. She’d turned on the
radio and said she needed cooking mood music. Unfortunately for me, her mood

music is hella sexy. Yes, I had to say “hella.”
I stood on the other side of the island, transfixed by her hips, as she shimmied
and gyrated around the kitchen to the aforementioned song, along with songs from
The Weekend, and fucking “Slow Hands.” By the time the last song finished, I was
in the middle of the coldest shower I’d ever taken.
“Fuck me!” I whisper to myself. A doe-eyed hopeful looks up, and I shake my
head negatively to thwart any misunderstanding. How am I so bad at this? How is
it possible to move in with two different women and have such contrasting
feelings? I almost couldn’t be paid to touch Cassie, and I’m pretty sure I’d pay to
get Sanya naked. I rub a frustrated hand across my face.
Sanya is my friend. We should be cooking together, talking about our day,
exchanging witty banter, or watching a movie. I should want to go home, not hide
out at the bar. But, every time I smell her unique scent or think about seeing her

half naked, my hormones dare me to do wicked things to her body. Things that she
hasn’t asked me to do; things that will severely alter our easy-going acquaintance.
I am ahead of my savings schedule, and she is leaving for the wedding in ten
days. I will have four days to get my mind and hormones together; maybe find
someone to fuck. It isn’t what I really want, but I’d mentally locked her up and
filed her in the off-limits drawer when I moved in; however, last night’s cooking
show made me take her out of the drawer and move her to an electrified cage
surrounded by sharks with laser beams on their heads. Yes, that is an Austin Powers
reference.
My mind floats back a few nights.
I’d awakened from a particularly raunchy, yet unsolicited sex dream about
Sanya. In my mind, she is one of those quiet freaks who seemed all innocent on the
surface but lest you have it any way you want it behind closed doors, and – trust me
– I had it any way I wanted it in that dream. After willing my erection down some,
I’d pulled on some underwear and went in search of a quick snack and drink.
Anything to keep me from knocking on her door.