Sex And Writing|| 18+ [{Completed}]

9

"Hello?" C.J. asked in a high pitch tone, concern lacing his voice. Eyebrows shooting up into his hairline in surprise. He eyed the Rolex resting on his wrist, the wheels in his brain turning.

"Yeah--- I'll be there." He said gruffly, irritation drifting into his tone. He looked over at me, narrowing his eyes, and ending his call.

"I've got an appointment to get to. It's important. I'm going to leave this here." He said sternly, pointing to his laptop with some hesitation.

I nodded my head, "Of course," finding it slightly odd he'd trust me enough to leave his laptop unattended. It was like a child to him, he never let it out of his sight, with good reason.

I got up from the chair and followed him like a lost puppy dog to the front door of my apartment, twiddling my fingers together. The thoughts that had kept me up the night before came back to me.

What are we? What does he expect from me?

"Hey--uh, C.J.," I stuttered with uncertainty, unsure of how to talk to him about this, it wasn't a big deal. But I hated not knowing where we stood and what we were. I wasn't ready or wanting anything serious, especially after Neil's trainwreck of a relationship.

He raised a brow, waving a hand for me to continue impatiently. The front door stood open, him half in, half out. "I just wanted to let you know, that whatever we are doing, this," I pointed between the two of us. "I'm ok with it. I'm--- pretty, uh--" I racked my brain, what the fuck was I going to say? What were the right words for a broken woman only interested in sex, supposed to say to the man providing this?

Honesty is the best policy, I suppose. Fuck it.

"I'm fucked up and broken from, well you saw him. I--I won't get attached or expect anything, but my God.....I need it."

I won't get attached, my famous last words. I felt like it had to be said, even if it was raw, uncut, and very forward.

His tongue darted out, wetting his lips. He gave a quick nod, "Ok," was all he responded with. I had expected that of course. He wasn't a man of many words or emotions. "I'll be at the bar later." He stated and I nodded trying not to let his lack of words get me down.

"My car, it's still at work..."

"I'll come by at 9:30," he simply stated walking out the door.

I stood there in the open door, watching as he walked down the stairs. His eyes never looking back at me, constantly checking his watch. Whatever he had to do, was important.

I firmly closed the door, resting my head against the cool wood frame. I fully intended on going back to the work calling my name. I had so many pages to do before he took me back to that God-forsaken bar.

What was so special about that hole in the wall anyway? It was dirty. It smelled like ass dipped in a million cigarettes, topped off with dirty coochie syrup. It was like a badly layered, ice-cream sundae that I wanted no part of. Anything it takes, right? It was severely overcrowded with shady and despicable characters lurking in the shadows, to the point I felt uneasy at times. Although, with C.J.'s enormous stature, I didn't scare easily. The noise was the worst to me though, penetrating my ears with its awfulness. Always screaming with inebriated voices and awful music.

I'm not even sure how the girls and I had ended up there that night, it was all by happenstance. We walked by on our way out of the club next door, already tipsy and went in. We, of course, spotted C J. and all his glory and decided to stay and ogle his sexy goodness.

Maybe it was fate? Maybe I was supposed to meet C.J. there, which led me to here, to this new job, to him.  Honestly--only God knew what the hell I was doing and how this would affect my future. But for now--I had work. Lots and lots of detail-oriented work, requiring my brain's full attention. So with determination, I turned on my heels to begin my descent into editing madness.