Tongue Kiss the Chocolate off my Stomach

Clio

When the least amount of boys that live in your house on a daily basis is eleven, you're gonna wake up to stranger things than a guy licking chocolate off your belly at three in the morning.

Call it insanity, but I wait a few seconds, wondering if he'll give it up soon. Or maybe realize I'm up. But, nope, he does neither.

I groan, pushing myself up and cutting on my lamp. Light filters in the room, showing me what looks like a white boy. I automatically know who it is. He's the only light skinned one we have in the House. Jace St. Andrews. Sea green eyes, olive skin, blonde hair. The son of famous politician, Jason Sanders, and one of his many whores. The only half-child of his dad's right kids. Was going to private school, but ended up on drugs and hanging with the wrong crowd. So now he's stuck with us for the time being.

"Jace... What the hell are you doin'?" I growl, pushing myself up to a sitting position. If I'm being honest with myself, I'll admit that it could've gone on a little bit longer, and I wouldn't have had a problem with it. But it's wrong.

He looks up at me, eyes red. Yeah, he's been out smoking again. And I have a good idea with who. "See, I always wondered if black girls tasted like chocolate.... But they don't... So I put some chocolate on you, and here I am," he explains, rather slowly.

"And you couldn't have tried that with your roommate?"

"Who? Allan? He's a guy; that's just weird."

"And this isn't?" I ask, drawing my legs to myself and creating space between me and him. "How did you get in here anyway?"

He dangles the key that unlocks the door to my room, which is all the way at the back of the house, far away from the boys, who find ways to get back in my room anyway. "Key."

"I see that." I stare at him for a second.

He has a goofy grin on his face. "You know, you're real cute, Clio."

"And you're real high, Jace. Now go away. I'm sleepy."

But instead of following my command, he climbs into the bed next to me, grabbing me around the shoulders and pulling me to him. "But, Clio--"

"Jace." I pick up my rape whistle. It's usually just a warning to Mama that somebody is in here that needs to be gone. Or a fight is about to break out. I've never had to use it in it's initial response.

He sighs. "You're no fun." But he climbs out of my bed and leaves, waving his long fingers at me. He carries the bottle of Hershey Chocolate Syrup in his right hand.

I collapse back in my bed, annoyed. Once you wake me up, it's virtually impossible for me to go back to sleep.

And for Jace to be in my room! Ugh, we don't even like each other. We've clashed since the day he got here, two weeks ago. He doesn't listen to Mama. Or me. And the boys usually listen to one of us.

There's a knock at my door. "If it's not Jace, you can come in," I call, not worried about my voice. There's nobody in proximity to me.

"It's not," another male voice answers. My door opens to revel Vic, a huge black guy that plays football and is as sweet as can be. He's always had my back, and is more like a brother to me than any of the other boys. "You alright? I saw Jace sneak in."

I nod. "Yeah, it's all good. He's just high. Again."

He nods, respecting my privacy by not coming in. "Alright. Just give me a holler if he gives you any problems."

I nod, smiling. "Thanks, Vic."

He closes my door behind him. I try to fall asleep and can't.

Double ugh.