Chapter 27
Calvin
Irummage through my bag, my frustration building with each moment that passes when I can’t find what I am looking for.
I had left my electric razor back home and while that wouldn’t usually be something that would set me off like this, add in a full body ache from my sleeping arrangements paired with exhaustion from not having slept properly in three days, and I am about to explode.
Oh, let’s not forget that when I am able to fall asleep, all I dream about is Nikita in compromising positions, that has a whole different kind of frustration percolating beneath my skin.
“Morning!” Her more-than-chipper tone sings as she walks out of the room looking fresh-faced and well-rested.
Must be nice.
I mumble a hello.
Our interaction during the early hours of this morning was what made it difficult to fall asleep again in the first place. She stepped out of her room in nothing but an oversized t-shirt that stopped halfway up her thigh, leaving very little to the imagination and a lot to enjoy. And when she lifted her shirt revealing her tight ass in those baby pink boy shorts? I don’t think I’ve ever gone hard that quickly before. Especially since I had the fresh memory of what her ass felt like in my hand.
If there is something I love, it’s a woman in an oversized shirt. Pair that with a messy bun on her head and it’s easily one of my favorite sights.
Violet was not an oversized shirt kind of woman. She wore only silks and matching sets to bed after carefully completing her hour-long skin-care routine that helped her wind down before bed. It isn’t something I have noticed before, but being around someone like Nikita is opening my eyes up to things that I had somehow chosen to ignore. It never occurred to me that I had immersed myself in Violet’s life to the point that I didn’t know where mine started or ended without her. Three years wrapped up in her and now that I have been cut off from it, there is nothing else for me to do but settle into life without her. It has been more revealing than I had expected it to be.
“Someone’s in a mood,” Nikita accuses, tapping at the last shred of patience I have, “I guess Calvin after dark has gone back into hibernation.”
I continue to rummage through my bag in a last ditch effort to find what I’m looking for, trying to ignore that not only is Nikita fully-rested, she also looks way too good. There is no reason she should be allowed to look that naturally beautiful which only adds fuel to the wildfire already igniting inside of me.
“What are you looking for?”
“My razor.”
“For what?”
I sigh, standing up straight again, ignoring the way I stretch the sensitive skin on my stomach a bit too much. “For my beard, Nikita.” Her laughter catches me off-guard. I shoot a look in her direction, “What are you laughing at?”
She heads towards me, her eyes filled with amusement. “That thing you call a beard on your face. That’s barely a five o’clock shadow.”
I run my fingers over my jaw feeling the scruff against my hand, “Whatever. This facial hair needs to go, but I left my razor behind.”
“Buy a disposable one.”
I glare at her. “I don’t use disposable razors. I have a process, alright? I only use my electric razor and certain facial products.” I watch her hold back a smile., “Don’t laugh. I have a routine, I’m sure you have a skin care one - this is basically the same thing.”
“I don’t have a skin care routine. Genetics were on my side and products only make it worse.”
“Well, aren’t you lucky.”
“I am.” She smiles up at me, taking me by surprise at how close she has chosen to stand to me. I can smell a new sweet vanilla scent on her. “You don’t need to shave. The facial hair suits you.”
Her statement catches me by surprise, especially how much that compliment seems to warm something deep inside of me. Shaking my head, “I hate it.”
That isn’t exactly true. I don’t hate it, but letting it grow isn’t what I usually do and even a small change like this has me feeling off-balance.
“Have you ever thought about growing your beard out?” she asks.
I think for a moment, knowing that there isn’t a time over the last few years where I had allowed it to grow out. Violet didn’t like my facial hair and she made that very clear.
It is fascinating to me that I hadn’t realized how many decisions I make in my life based on what Violet liked.
“No.”
She lifts her hand to rest on my cheek, my breath getting caught in my throat as she rubs her thumb over my cheek, “You should try it sometime.”
I grab her hand, removing it from my face as I fight through the growing frustration that is building inside of me. “I’ll decide what I do with it, thank you very much.”
Her eyes narrow slightly before rolling, pulling her hand from mine, “I forgot how much of a dick you are.”
She turns on her heels, reaching across the kitchen counter to grab her handbag. “I was going to invite you to join me for breakfast, but I’m in a great mood today and you’re getting in the way of that so you can stay put.”
I open my mouth to make a smart-mouthed remark but she wastes no time leaving the hotel room and when the door shuts closed, I feel like a dick. The frustration that has been building inside of me is approaching a breaking point and there are very few things that I can actually do to sort that out.
Usually it is a physical activity.
I’d choose sex over going for a run right now, but I don’t have that luxury and I curse my mind for immediately thinking of Nikita as the first option.
There are many reasons why fucking Nikita would be a bad idea.
I shake these thoughts out of my mind. How can I be drawing up a list of all the reasons not to fuck Nikita? This has never been a problem I’ve had to deal with before and it’s unsettling to me.
I decide going for a run on the beach is my best option, hoping that will sort me out or at the very least, distract me from the thoughts turning in my mind.
Nikita is off-limits.
No matter how much I want her.