| Sick |
| The walls were shaking. This old house would probably come crashing down in a few seconds. If only Lance could be so lucky. The ceiling wouldn’t fall on him and end his misery. No, that would be too easy. He was going to have to endure this torture; he just didn’t know how much longer he could bear to listen to her screaming and moaning. It had started out with just the sound of the bed banging against the walls. Sure, he’d been pissed because his sleep had been disturbed, but he could deal with it. It wasn’t until he’d gone downstairs and contented himself with reading this morning’s newspaper that the nauseating sound effects had begun. “Oh god, Jace,” she had started moaning, “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.” Why did she have to be so vocal? Why couldn’t she just breathe harder like normal people? Didn’t she know that he could hear? She probably didn’t. JC never mentioned to his many female visitors that he didn’t live alone. He seemed to believe that women would be more inhibited if they knew another man was around. Lance swore that if she asked JC to go faster one more time that he was going to start throwing chairs around and let his presence be known. She probably wouldn’t care. He’d sneaked a peek at her through the crack of his bedroom door when JC had ushered her upstairs. Nowadays you couldn’t judge a woman’s looseness by her clothing; many women regularly wore hooker-esque clothing to regular clubs. He’d learned that the hard way. Christina still wouldn’t talk to him after ‘the incident’. If she didn’t want his hand on her ass then she shouldn’t have it out there for the world to see now should see? But the girl with JC, the girl with lungs of steel, had obviously learned that less was definitely more. He couldn’t imagine what her clothes had been when she’d bought them, but today they were a bunch of strategically placed strips of cloth. But she had been beautiful. Extremely beautiful. He could get hard right now just thinking about her. And that drove him crazier than her noisy lovemaking did. Suddenly, the noise stopped. All the moaning and professions of JC’s manliness had ceased completely. For a moment, Lance had to wonder if maybe she’d died from lack of air. He abandoned that theory when he heard JC’s door shut and light footsteps on the staircase. She was coming downstairs. Holding his breath, Lance glued his eyes to the sports page, hoping she would just pass by and not acknowledge him. If only he was that lucky. “Oh geez,” she gasped, “I didn’t know anyone was here.” Taking his eyes away from his paper, Lance focused his gaze on her just in time to see her pulling JC’s flannel robe closed. If he’d looked only seconds earlier, he’d seen all of her. “I’m Lance.” “Sandy,” she whispered nervously, clutching the robe tighter. A few seconds of uncomfortable silence passed between them before Lance finally asked, “Did you need something?” “JC wanted some water.” If he was a gentleman, he might have gotten it for her, but instead he thrust his thumb behind him and gestured to the sink. “Use the water from the sink. Cups are in the cupboard right above it.” “Thank you,” she responded, her bare feet shuffling across the wooden floor. Lance tried to focus his attention on the newspaper, but he couldn’t. She was even lovelier than he remembered. Standing there in the doorway, she’d looked almost angelic. If only the sounds of her passion weren’t still ringing in his head. “Sorry,” she apologized when her hip banged against his chair. The space between the table and sink was so small that she could barely move around without hitting his chair. That’s when he caught the faint smell of her. It wasn’t her smell though, not really. It was JC’s. It was his cologne on the robe, the smell of his sweat on her body. He’d recognize those scents anywhere. “Are you okay?” Her blue eyes bore into his worriedly. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d been staring at her for so long. “Yeah, I’m fine. Here,” he said as he handed her the cup. “Thank you.” She brought the rim to her lips and took a quick sip. That did it. Her lips were swollen from JC’s kisses, and it’s been the last straw for him. He couldn’t take it any longer. His lips were on hers in an instant. “What are you doing?” Clamping his hand over her mouth, he whispered, “Don’t say anything. Nothing at all.” His hands threw open JC’s robe and discarded it on the floor. Not once looking at her face, he shoved her onto the table on top of his newspaper. “Open your legs,” he ordered. “I…” “Now, damn it,” Lance angrily growled, pushing her knees roughly. She tried to pull her legs back together, but Lance clamped both hands on her knees, “don’t move.” “I…” Appling pressure on his hold, Lance whispered, “Not a word. I’m tired of hearing you. Don’t you dare fight me.” She nodded and even pushed her legs open more to show her compliance. Running one hand along her inner thigh, Lance slowly licked his lips. He could already taste it. “Did he fuck you good? It sure sounded like it.” Smirking, Lance pressed his lips against her inner thigh, “You know, I can almost smell him.” He sniffed her leg. “Do you think I can taste him?” He licked her thigh. “Hmm…not there. Maybe…” his face was inches away from her womanhood, “I bet he’s all over your pussy. I want to taste him. If I eat you, I can taste him.” Roughly, he ran his lips along her entrance. Delving within, he closed his eyes and imagined that he wasn’t tasting JC’s body fluids second hand but directly from JC himself. The mental image was ruined when he felt her body thrust against his mouth. “Whore,” he muttered, pulling away from her. Picking up the discarded robe, he threw it at her, “JC’s probably thirsty.” She looked extremely confused but nodded her head. “I wouldn't tell JC about this if I were you.” A defiant look crossed her face, “why? I think JC would want to know that his roommate is a sick bastard. Do you tongue fuck all of JC’s women just to ‘taste him’?” Rolling his eyes, Lance simply shrugged, “He’s probably wondering where you are.” “You wouldn’t care if I told him?” Shrugging again, he replied, “Tell him if you want, I was just trying to help you out. He won't believe you.” Placing her hands on her hips, she asked, “And why not? He probably knows you have a sick crush on him.” “He would never ever believe that.” “Why not?” “He just wouldn’t.” Getting extremely irritated that she was ruining the high he was on now that he had tasted a part of JC, he grabbed a piece of newspaper that had fallen on the floor and walked past her towards the door leading to the patio. Halfway out the door, he turned to her, a grin on his face. “My brother would never believe something like that about me.” |