I'm sorry I didn't stick around to say good-bye, but it's better this way. There are some things I didn't tell you yesterday that I prefer you didn't know. You don't have to leave right away. The room's paid for until lunch tomorrow. I know you're probably still sore, so take it easy today.
I stared at the letter in my hand, shock and disbelief making me collapse back onto the bed. Was it really so hard to find a man who didn't pull this shit in the morning? Granted I hadn't slept with any of them considering they were family, but every damn man in my life had left like this. A letter waiting for me when I woke up. First my father when I was 12, then my brother a few years later, and my cousin last August. Now Jonah.
I sighed heavily and dropped my head into my hands. What the hell was wrong with me that none of them wanted to stay? When I had met Jonah yesterday he hadn't seemed like the fuck-and-run kind of person. On the other hand, why the hell had I slept with him? I didn't even know him that well, and it didn't seem like he was a good person from his letter.
I couldn't stay here any longer, even if he had been nice enough to rent the room for and extra day. It made me wonder, did he have this planned or something? He had seemed to coordinated yesterday for a first meeting.
Oh God, I just slept with some guy I didn't even know for twenty-four hours! Again I ask: What's wrong with me?! Was I so starved for attention that I would sleep with some random stranger?
Maybe I shouldn't have gone to the bar with him. He probably put something in my drink when I wasn't looking.
I jumped up from the bed, then staggered sideways, falling to my knees. Son of a- that hurt.My hips and back ached and my ass stung every time I moved my legs. Damn it, that's the last time I have sex with a guy. I don't care how good it felt at the time.
Carefully I pried myself up from where I was kissing the carpet. The muscles in my thighs trembled as I made my way to the chair where my clothes lay, neatly folded.
Ha. Nice try, but that wouldn't get me to forgive you even if I was a girl. Which is another thing I don't understand. How women can forgive I guy so easily for anything if he does a little something nice for her.
I looked down at the note I still held tightly. Who would have known my first time would end so badly? I crunched the note in my fist, and flung it away form me. Asshole, I sniffed.
I got dressed slowly, and searched around for my keys. They were sitting on the table beside the door where I had dropped them last night. I grabbed them on my way out, and slammed the door. Looking back, I sighed mournfully. So much for that good time he promised me.
Jonah stared down at the beauty that slept beside him, regretting what he was about to do. Slowly he untangled himself from the blonds arms, and stood up.
This would be the first and last time he ever did something like this. He knew how bad it would hurt Erin when he woke, alone to an empty room. The same had happened to him a few times before.
He moved carefully, trying to keep the creaking of the mattress to a minimum. His jacket lay on the floor near the door where he had dropped it the night before. He withdrew a piece of paper and a pen from the inner pocket.
He wrote a few meaningless words down and placed it on the table beside the bed, and looked over at Erin who still lay sleeping. His hand reached out, stopping just before it touched Erin's face.
He sighed and turned away. Walking around he picked up Erin's clothes, folding them neatly and placing them on a chair not to far away. Erin would probably still be sore, and not want to get up. The room was paid for for another day so he could rest for awhile.
He checked his watch. It was time to get going. Jonah moved quickly to the door barely glancing back as he closed it silently behind him.
I've just opened the door to my apartment and drooped the keys into bowl by the door when I see the news cast playing on the TV. I don't usually watch the news. My barely there room mate, Ireland, thinks he's opened my eyes to the evil of the government controlled news. So I humor him and only watch when I know he's not here.
I wander into the kitchen, still listening to what the reporter has to say. Apparently Laiden Rosschilde, the new age mafia heir, is gay. Some tourist caught him and his boyfriend during their day out.
Laughing, I grab a glass from the drainer and fill it with water. It's amazing what people are willing to put on TV now days. Watch, that tourist is going to end up face down in a river somewhere. It's also amazing someone actually spotted the guy. I mean aren't they supposed to be really secretive and hard to find?
I guess everything is still buzzing from when his father was on trial for the murder of some 17 people in a 'boating accident'. He'd been found not guilty of course. Something which had failed to astonish me - and most likely half of America.
I'd been following the career of Richard Rosschilde for a few years myself and the things he's gotten away with tells you there's something seriously wrong with the American public. I bet the agents following him around wish they had gotten as lucky as the tourist.
I walk back into the living room just as they're playing the Rosschilde clip. I barely glance at the screen but what I see makes me do a double take. Oh my God...
What I see on the screen isn't some badly dressed Italian mob prince with some blatantly gay fairy at some cheap outdoor bar in New York. No, I see brown hair, blue eyes, and a smile that could break any ones heart. Jonah.
No. His names' not Jonah. It's Laiden Rosschilde, son of Richard Rosschilde who just stood trail for the murder of 17 people! I feel slightly dizzy. I mean, what the fuck?
This is also nothing compared to what is shown next. It's me. I'm dimly aware of the glass shattering on the floor at my feet. I don't move, I don't breath. I just stand there, shocked into staring.
We're sitting at a table at the Big Bleu cafe about a mile from the beach. Both of us are smiling, laughing at a joke he had told me 'bout some random thing. He's wearing the black cargo pants and dark blue shirt I had so much fun taking off last night.
I blush. That's not something I really want to think about right now. Not after what he did.
Key's rattle in the door behind me and it makes a creaking sound as it opens. I don't look because the only the only other person who has a key is Ire.
He drops his keys in the bowl with mine, and I hear a couple of thumps which could only be his boots hitting the wall beside the door.
"Son of a bitch, Erin! You broke another one?" I look down as he storms toward me. Yep it's definitely dead.
I move to take a step back but a hand on my shoulder stops me. "NO. Don't move," he says sarcastically."I'll get it. Knowing you you'll just cut your feet open, and then I'll have to take car of that too."
I nod absently not even bothering to tell him I still have my shoes on. He throws his hands up and leaves.
Ire is a nice guy, exactly like his name. He has red hair, and green eyes. He's taller than me by about four inches, and prefers women's shirts to men's. Just so you know.
I don't watch him. I'm still to busy watching the tourist follow me and Jo- Laiden around.
BlackRage: Whoo! My first mpreg fic. Read it, love it, and review. And keep in mind this is only the first chapter. Reserve harsh judgement's for later chapters! ;)