Here Comes the Heat (before we meet)

Chapter 3: Daydreaming

So...uh, I'm back? Kind of? I'm super duper sorry for being away for so long. There's been some rough stuff going on in my personal life, and I've been on writer's block as well. Not the best combination, you feel me? Anyways, this chapter is pretty short but I'm trying out a new style, so I dunno how it'll turn out.

Once again, I'm really sorry for the wait, I'm going to try my hardest to update this more regularly. I love you guys for sticking with me, even after how long this chapter took to come out.

I'm trying to write this chapter in 1st person, so I'd appreciate it if y'all could leave some feedback on whether you prefer me writing this story in 3rd (how I was writing before) or 1st person? Thanks!

This takes place a little bit before the ending of last chapter~

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I reclined languidly back into my chair, sighing with relief as I stretched out my arms. Some bullshit reality show was playing on the tv (did Lindsay Lohan really need her own show?) and I was pretty much just tuning it out. Don't ask why I was watching Lohan, please.

I rubbed my tired eyes, trying to block out the insistent and annoying artificial light above me.

My thoughts were drifting aimlessly like clouds in my head, and I twirled my fork around distractedly. Amidst the random ideas that popped up, there was one thing, or rather, one person, that made himself most apparent in my consciousness.

Yeah, you can probably guess who I’m thinking about.

Can you really blame me though? I mean, c’mon. Jerome is hot. From what I remember, he had pretty damn noticeable muscles, and that’s a huge turn-on for me. I haven’t dated a non-human in quite a few years, but from my last relationship like that, it was really… thrilling?

I don’t know if that’s the word I’m looking for, but… you know what I mean. Maybe.

Anyways, back to Jerome. I met him today, and I can’t stop thinking about him. Usually when I meet someone attractive, it takes me a few days to start thinking about them like I am with Jerome. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love being in relationships, but… I like to wait a few weeks before I decide to start one. But… there’s something different about Jerome. I just felt really… connected to him, which is strange to say seeing how I literally just met him.

Okay, back on topic now, before I start rambling.

When I was gazing, probably really creepily, now that I think about it, into his gorgeous dark eyes that were such a deep shade of brown they were almost black-

Oh god, that sounds really cliche, doesn’t it? Shit, just pretend I never said that.

Whatever, you get what I’m saying. He’s got eyes that I could get lost in (that still sounds corny, dammit!). And, shit, he’s so tall! He’s at least 5 inches taller than me, which is saying something since I’m around 5’10”. Okay, well… that might not be that much taller, but whatever.

His voice is surprisingly not as deep as it seems like it would be. It’s not super high, either. It’s kind of… in the middle, I guess. And… I wouldn’t mind that sweet voice of his whispering sweet nothings into my ear as he thrusts furiously into-

My cheeks flushed slightly. Well, I guess it was only a matter of time before I started thinking about that. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like sex. It’s just that… my fantasies get a little… interesting, if I let them run wild for too long.

And by interesting, I mean that I’m left with a hard-on and feeling sexually frustrated. So basically, don’t leave me alone when I’m horny.

“I really haven’t done cocaine more than 10 or 15 times. I’ve done it like 10 or 15 times.” Looks like I picked a wrong time to start listening to whatever garbage was on tv right now.

I rolled my eyes, pushing my chair away from the table and standing up. I really need to stop having these inner monologues, it takes up way too much time. My little speech started sometime around 6:30, and now it’s around 7:15. Oops.

I slid across the shiny linoleum floors of my kitchen to my microwave. Before I started my little story, I had put a microwave dinner in to cook. I whipped open the microwave door, testing the meal with one finger only to find that it is ice-cold. Pouting, I slam the door shut and punch a few numbers into the keypad.

I slouched back into my chair again. Hey, I was hoping that shitty food would still be warm! I’m lazy, okay?

As I threw a minor fit, my food cooked. After about 3 minutes, the machine beeped. I flew out of my seat and back over to my waiting dinner, snatching it out of the microwave. Just as I sat down and got comfortable, I was interrupted.

My goddamn phone was ringing.

I guess I forgot that Jerome was supposed to be calling me or something. This is going to be fucking awkward, I can tell already.