Until Nico (Until #4)

Until Nico (Until #4) Page 3

“And what does that have to do with me?”

“Can she stay with you until Cassie gets the rest of her shit out of my house?”

“Hell no!” I bellow as I shove my keys into the lock.

The second the door opens, Daisy starts going wild. I scoop her up in one hand as she begins licking my chin and any other piece of me she can get to.

“You still have that dog?” He laughs, hearing Daisy through the phone.

“Yes,” I growl. All the f**kers in my life think it’s funny I own a little fur-ball for a dog. I rescued Daisy from a flophouse. She was so small at the time that she could fit in the palm of my hand. I was going to give her to one of my family members, but I couldn’t do it. After a week of having her with me, I grew attached to her.

“Look, man, I just need your help this one time.”

“No, you should have put that bitch’s shit out months ago,” I remind him. I hated his ex; she was one of those women who tried to lead you around by your dick.

“Don’t make it seem like I haven’t wanted to. She swore she was coming this weekend to get all her stuff, but until then, I don’t have room for this chick who’s coming.”

“Who is she?” I ask curiously.

“You know my friend Link who works as a bouncer in Vegas?”

“Yeah. He works at a strip club, right?”

“Yeah. Well, I guess this stripper saw some shit go down. He called and asked me to keep an eye out for her until it’s safe for her to go home.”

“Wow, your own personal stripper living with you.”

“She could live with you first.”

“I’m seeing someone, so you’re gonna have to find something else to do with this chick or toss your ex’s shit outside. Or burn it behind your house for all I care.”

“You’re seeing someone?” I can hear the disbelief in his voice. I’m not surprised—I don’t date; I hook up and go home.

“I just got home. I don’t have time for this right now. Call your ex and tell her she needs to come get her stuff tomorrow or you’re burning it. And honestly, if she doesn’t show up, I say we have a bonfire with that shit.”

“Look, you and I both know she isn’t gonna come get her crap. She thinks, if it’s here, she has a reason to come back.”

“So put it in your car, take it to her house, and put it on her lawn.”

“I would have done that, but I need a truck and haven’t had time.”

“She’s been out for almost a year. How the hell haven’t you had time?”

“Okay, I’ve had time. I just haven’t wanted to deal with all the crying that comes along with seeing her.”

“Aw, you cry when you see her?”

“Tears of joy that she’s out of my life, f**ker.”

I laugh along with him as I set Daisy on the ground and grab a beer out of the fridge, popping the top and taking a swig. “If she doesn’t come by this weekend to get her stuff, let me know and I’ll go with you to take it to her. I’m sure we can borrow Cash’s truck.”

“Sounds good. So who’s this chick you’re seeing? Is it the redhead you were talking to at the bar the other night?”

“No, and you don’t know her.” Shit, I don’t even know her.

All I know about her is that she smells like apples and cinnamon and she has the softest brown hair I’ve ever seen or felt, brown eyes that darken to almost black when she’s kissed, and skin the color of milk that turns pink when she’s nervous or embarrassed.

“Did you hear me?”

“What?” I growl, annoyed that he interrupted my daydream of beautiful Sophie.

“I asked if you were up for another job this week?”

“I’m not sure right now.”

“All right. Just let me know.”

“Yeah, sure. Later, cous’.”

“Later.”

I clicked off the phone before tossing it onto the counter. I glance down at Daisy, who is sitting at my feet looking up at me. I open up her treat jar, and her eyes follow my every move. I hold the treat a few inches above her head as she stands up on her hind legs to dance around before I drop it to her. I wander from the kitchen into my room, pull off my shirt, and toss it onto the floor, followed by my jeans and boxers.

After going into the bathroom, I start up the shower and let the glass stall steam up before stepping inside. I let the hot water run over me. My head tilts back as I think about Sophie and her big brown eyes looking up at me with nervousness and hunger but without even a hint of real fear—something I have never seen on a woman’s face before but will forever be etched into my brain. I knew the minute I saw her that she was it. How I knew? I don’t know, but it was like my soul lit up—cheesy as f**k, but also true. I don’t really have time for her right now, and she is not a woman who looks like she would ever be interested in someone like me, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.

She has a look of innocence about her; I guess it could be a front, but something tells me it’s not. I feel myself getting hard thinking about those f**king heels she had on; they should be illegal. She looked like every man’s naughty secretary fantasy, or maybe a dirty librarian. I palm myself, moving in long, steady strokes. I wouldn’t mind seeing her on her knees in front of me, her skirt up around her waist, her legs spread out to show off her pu**y, her top open with her br**sts hanging over the top of her bra, and her ni**les hard and dark pink from being sucked, licked, and bitten. I would stand in front of her, feeding her my cock. My hands would fist her hair, dictating her pace. I feel my balls draw up, my strokes moving faster. One of her hands would cup them gently while her other hand would grip the base of my c**k as I f**ked into her mouth.

“Shit,” I groan, echoing into the empty shower as long jets of cum hit the wall in front of me. I haven’t jacked off to the thought of a woman I know since I was thirteen, when Margret Jenkins showed me her tits in the boys’ bathroom on a dare. I catch my breath before I wash up and head to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a busy day.

When I walk into the middle school, I’m not surprised when the security guard asks who I am and what I’m doing here. I explain to him that I’m looking for a librarian by the name of Sophie. He doesn’t know who she is, so he sends me to the principal’s office so someone there can help me out. I’m used to being judged by my appearance. I’m covered in tattoos, and I have a fauxhawk and gauges in my ears. Basically, I look like a person you should run from.