The Girl's A Straight-Up Hustler (Jardougall)

7- The Shower Scene (?)

Jenna's body was so warm. I could've stayed cuddled up next to her forever. I liked having my head on her chest, feeling it rise and fall with every deep breath she took in her sleep. She reeked of alcohol, but I didn't mind. I could still smell a bit of her perfume.

I was already awake, had been for hours. She didn't take her arm from around me, so I resorted to drawing patterns on the fabric of her shirt. A part of me wanted to be touching more of her. Sure, sex was great. But I would be entirely okay with lying naked with her. Just our skin together. It seemed kind of weird, but it was a calming thought.

Her t-shirt was raised up a little, so I set my hand on the exposed skin. She was so warm. Her abdomen moved when I touched her, and she began to stir. I didn't want her to wake up. This was so nice. This was so perfect.

The arm that was around my body moved up my back and to my head. Jenna started lightly twirling my hair between her fingers. I loved this more than I could begin to express. It was so simple. Laying here with Jenna was calming, sweet.

"Why are you still here?" she asked groggily. I raised my head to look up at her.

"You told me to stay," I said. Her free hand grabbed mine that was on her stomach.

"I feel like shit," she grumbled. Jenna pushed me off her and sat up in bed. I just watched as she climbed out and left the room. Another door closed and I heard the sound of running water.

This felt so weird. I was alone in her room after spending the night with her, and she was showering. I thought maybe we'd have some cute and romantic moment, but no. She just up and left like nothing had happened. Like I hadn't rushed over here to help her.

I had nothing else to do except play with the blanket. A part of me wanted to explore her house, but I didn't want to get yelled at. I did it anyway.

Jenna's room was a little overwhelming. For a girl who brought girls home, you'd expect maybe a more exotic room. But it seemed kind of bland; just really large. White walls, colored lights, black leather seat in the corner by the window. Everything was so...eh...and then her closet was open. It still bothered me. It was the only thing about her room that was messy and it bothered me.

As I turned out of her bedroom, a smooth voice floated out from down the hall. Was Jenna singing in the shower? If so, her voice was so mesmerizing. Flawless. Was there anything this woman wasn't good at? (Besides drinking too much).

I wanted to hover outside of the bathroom and listen. I wanted to fall asleep to that beautiful voice. Instead, I continued walking down the stairs. I ran my hand along the wooden railing with each step, walking down to the still-white rooms. To my right was a small lounge room, with a fireplace and couches. Low-lit with orange flicker-lights. I wondered if she always left her lights on.

Before I could turn to leave the lounge, I heard footsteps on the stairs. Jenna jogged down while buttoning up her skinny jeans. Her white t-shirt was thrown carelessly over her shoulder. Her hair was still soaked from her shower, and so was the majority of her upper body. When she saw me, she let out a sigh and grabbed her shirt.

"How much longer are you staying?" she asked. She pulled her shirt on in one swift move, the thin fabric clinging to her wet stomach.

I cleared my throat. If I wanted to reply, I had to not focus on how breathtakingly sexy she was. "When do you want me gone?" I asked, looking at the floor.

Her hands moved and hit her legs again. She started to walk away from me, so I looked up. She had walked into the kitchen, so I followed slowly. Jenna didn't waste a moment in grabbing the broom and the dustpan, cleaning up the broken glass as she hummed to herself. Then she dumped the mess into the garbage can and replaced the broom.