Perfect Chaos

Wait for me on the corner. I’ll be five minutes. x

Following Moya into the kitchen, I perch on a stool and watch as she sinks another glass of wine. “So what do you want to talk about?”

“How’s Sal been?”

I sensed this was coming, and I conclude quickly that honesty is the best policy. It’s obvious Moya’s feeling threatened, what with Sal’s new hot-as-fuck assistant. I need to reassure her that she has nothing to worry about . . . without telling her that, actually, I’m fucking Sal’s new hot-as-fuck assistant. “Things are crazy at the firm,” I say, watching as she takes a seat.

“Things are crazy at home, too.”

“I see that. But, Moya, you guys really need to make time for each other.”

“I’m just exhausted, Ty.”

I think it wise not to point out that Sal is, too. She won’t appreciate it. “I understand. Talk to him.” I grab my keys, but my arse doesn’t get the chance to leave the stool because Moya magics a beer from nowhere and slides it across the counter.

“Drink,” she demands, and then launches into a marathon rant about everything Sal. How thoughtless he is, how inconsiderate, how he doesn’t understand how tired she is, how he doesn’t appreciate her anymore. I peek down at my watch constantly, slowly kissing goodbye to the rest of my evening.

Half an hour later, she’s still going on. “Honestly, Ty. I feel like I’m turning into an irrational psycho.”

Turning into? I’ve got news for Moya. I resort to going for brutal honesty. But not that honest. “Moya,” I sigh. “Men are simple creatures. Give us some loving and problem solved. You know what I mean, right?”

She deflates before my eyes. “Right,” she breathes. “Basically, fuck him and all will be well.”

“Exactly.” I get up, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “He loves you, Moya. He just needs some affection. As do you.”

“What’s that?” Sal asks, wandering into the kitchen.

“Nothing.” I give him a slap on the shoulder and head for the door. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.” I toss a wink over my shoulder as I go, catching the confusion in Sal’s eyes. He better fucking get some tonight, since I’ve delayed getting some myself.

As I race down the path, I pull my phone out and call Lainey. “Where are you?” I ask as I fall into my car and start it up.

“I got tired of waiting so made my way home.”

“Damn, I’m sorry. I’ll come and get you now.”

“But I’m in my pajamas.”

“And?”

“And I was going to climb into bed.”

“Think again, beautiful. I’ve been waiting all night to get my hands on you. I’ll be there in a flick.” I hang up before she can argue and race across town to Lainey’s.After Martha buzzes me in, I take the stairs two at a time, bombing up to apartment eight, my heart hammering with pure excitement. I’m out of breath by the time I make it to her door and knock.

“Oh, it’s the stalker,” Lainey’s sister quips, opening the path for me to enter. “She’s in her room.”

I wander down the narrow corridor and break into an open-plan space with high ceilings, double doors onto a terrace, and various doors off the backend. “Which is where?”

She points to the door on the right and flops down onto the couch. “Keep the noise down.”

I chuckle to myself. The only noise there’ll be is me getting Lainey out of here, into my car, and across town again. I take the door knob and push my way in, poking my head around and scanning the room. My shoulders drop when I find her curled up on her side in the middle of a double bed. “She’s asleep.” I sigh, closing the door softly behind me.

Wandering quietly over, I crouch beside her and she doesn’t stir even a tiny bit. She looks totally out of it, and while I’m desperate to have some Lainey time, my conscience won’t allow me to wake her. I just can’t bring myself to be that selfish. So, I watch her for a time, smiling like mad on the inside, until my legs start to tingle in my crouched position. I rise, glancing around her room. It’s girlie, in a soft, subtle kind of way, with pale gray flowery wallpaper on one wall, the rest painted a light cream. A million scatter cushions are piled in a huge basket by the side of her bed, and the silver velvet chair in the corner is draped in the clothes she had on this evening. I smile as I turn on the spot, feeling a little bit closer to her, now I’ve seen her bedroom, stupid as it may sound. I wander through to the attached bathroom and take in the gray tiles on the floor and wall, with chrome and glass fittings on the modern bath and shower. It’s contemporary but cozy, and, quite frankly, that shower is looking really very appealing. It’s late evening. I could do with washing the day away. I peek over my shoulder and find Lainey’s not moved an inch. Would it be rude to help myself? Too familiar? I can’t decide, but something primal and possessive inside me likes the notion that I will have used her shower, and before I can tell myself that it’s cheeky, I’m stripping down and hopping right in. The water hits me, and I grab the shower gel, flipping the lid and taking a sniff. Christ, just the smell of her in this bottle sends me hard. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. She’s asleep, I remind myself. Waking her would be cruel. So, so cruel and thoughtless. I look down at my semi-erect cock, watching as it swells before my eyes, rising until it’s jutting from my hips. “Well, damn,” I mutter, reaching down to wrap my palm around my girth. Waking her would be thoughtless, but there’s nothing to stop me from sorting myself out. Right?