Spying On My Roommate

It’s damp. I smell it and moan. It smells like soap and aftershave. It smells incredible.

I run my hand over it, wondering which part has touched his naked cock. This is crossing the personal boundary line, but the rational part of my brain is no longer in control here. The horny part has taken over. It’s a hostile takeover. I’m powerless to stop it. I’m just along for the ride at this point.

After I’ve molested his towel, I turn to his bed.

No, Lindsay! That’s too much.

You’re a good person. You’re not a creepy pervert so stop acting like it.

But my body doesn’t listen to the rational thoughts in my head. It’s creeping toward the bed.

Before I can stop myself, I pull back the sheets and slip into them, inhaling his magical manly scent. My body reacts in a strong way, that demanding heat comes roaring back with a vengeance and settles between my legs again.

This is so wrong.

But it’s so good.

I bring the sheets to my nose and close my eyes, imagining this was happening for real. That Emmett was beside me in the flesh and I was invited in here.

My hand creeps down…

No!

Too far!

But my hand is not listening. It’s lustfully persistent with a mind of its own…

My hand grazes my burning sex when I hear keys in the front door.

“Fuck!”

I explode out of the bed like my ass is on fire and scurry back to my room, a string of curse words following me down the hall.

The door handle opens as I slam my door closed and hide in my closet.

I’m all ears as I hear Emmett walk in and close the door.

Shit! The Pop Tarts are still in the toaster!

His bed!

It was made when I walked into his room and now it’s a mess of tangled sheets.

I squeeze my eyes shut and grit my teeth.

This is so bad.

He’s going to know it was me.

How am I going to explain this? A burglar?

Get real, Lindsay. No burglar walks in, cooks Pop Tarts, takes a nap, and then leaves without taking a thing.

I’ll try Googling it for an idea. Someone somewhere must have done the same thing. Right? Probably not… There’s not a lot of people that stupid…

No! Noooo!

My phone is missing. I had it in the big pocket of my hoodie and now it’s gone.

It’s probably somewhere in Emmett’s bed. It must have fallen out when I was writhing around in his sheets like a total pervert.

I’m so busted. I’m so screwed.

There’s only one sane option for me now.

I have to move.

Far far away.

I hear that Madagascar is nice…

Chapter Four

Lindsay

* * *

It’s been ten minutes since I’ve been sitting in the closet motionless. When my right leg starts to cramp up, I quietly move to my bed, keeping my eye on the door the entire time.

I cringe every time I hear Emmett’s footsteps walking around the apartment. This is so bad. He’s probably looking at his bed, wondering if he did make it like he remembered. When he finds my phone in his sheets, he’s going to realize that he did in fact make it. He’ll also realize that his roommate is a total creeper.

I won’t blame him if he wants to move out. I won’t blame Anna either if she doesn’t want to be friends with me anymore. I kind of deserve it for lusting after her cousin like some kind of sexual deviant.

My body seizes up in panic when I hear footsteps approaching. The thin light under my door breaks with a shadow. He’s there.

I don’t think I’d be more scared if it was an axe murderer at my door.

Three loud knocks.

I hold my breath, heart pounding violently in my chest.

Two more.

“Hello?” he says in a deep sexy voice that matches him perfectly. “Lindsay?”

He knows my name. I start blushing hard from that fact.

“I think you dropped something,” he says as my cheeks burn. “In my bed.”

I grab my teddy bear and squeeze its poor neck as Emmett slides my iPhone under the crack in the door.

Why can’t I just be a normal human and open the door, apologize, give an excuse? Why am I frozen like a child? This is pathetic even for me.

I’m well aware of how sad this situation is.

He eventually gives up and leaves. I’m all ears as he rummages around the apartment for a bit and then I’m pretty sure he leaves. The front door opens and closes, then there’s silence.

I leap off my bed and retrieve my phone.

What…

It’s open to a new contact. Emmett put his number in my phone.

Emmett (Roommate)

555-893-6291

He also took a selfie of his smiling face and added it to the contact name.

I stare at it until my eyes blur over. For at least twenty minutes. It’s hard to look away from that dazzling smile.

I’m lost in his blue eyes, so I’m not prepared when the text dings in. From him.