I Heart Brooklynn

Deacon’s audition with Cup of Joe’s manager Carol went swimmingly and he was given permission to play Tuesday and Thursday evenings, with the option for more depending on customer reaction.

His phone buzzed. It was a text from Oliver. ‘Love.’

Deacon frowned, “Love?” What does that mean? Obviously he wasn’t sticking to the code. Was Oliver telling him he was in love with that Sersei girl? “Shit,” he muttered, unsure of how to respond.

Staring at the message, he replied, ‘That’s the code, nailed it. Speaking of nailing things, how did your evening go with your girl?’

‘A real man doesn’t kiss and tell, but spending the evening with Sersei was more than I could possibly have ever hoped for,’ came the response.

Deacon pursed his lips, eyes narrowing, ‘Were you navel lint?’

‘Navel lint?’

The lines on his youthful face deepened. “Right,” he murmured. Whoever was on the other end of the phone wasn’t Oliver.

There was a light rapping at his door.

“A minute,” he said, setting his phone down on the bed before strolling over and opening the door.

Brooklynn stood there, looking radiant and gorgeous, and beautiful.

Deacon swallowed hard trying to find his voice.

“Hey Deacon,” she said, flashing him a bright beaming smile.

Shaking his head, “Uh, Oliver isn’t here,” he stammered.

Brooklynn nodded, “I know, he’s over at the house with Sersei. They just asked if I wouldn’t mind coming over a grabbing a few things of his as they are thinking of sneaking off together for the long weekend,” she replied with an exaggerated eyebrow raise, moving forward essentially forcing him back into the room.

“I, um, that’s, they didn’t have time to come by themselves?” he asked slowly.

Cupping his cheek with her left hand, she leaned close, “I think they were busy enjoying each other’s company, vigorously,” she whispered with a sly grin, giving him a wink.

Deacon swallowed hard, the girl’s fresh scent teasing his senses.

“Is that your guitar?” she asked, pointing to the case on his bed.

“Um, yeah,” he replied, watching as she bounced over and parked herself on his bed.

Leaning back on the bed, “Will you play for me?” she asked, giving him a coy smile.

“No, not right now, I thought you were here for some of Oliver’s clothes and stuff?” he replied. She was sitting right there, right on his bed. God she was clouding his judgement, this goddess of desire. Damned if he wasn’t getting an erection.

Leaning forward again, she closed her eyes for a moment before getting to her feet, “Right,” she said, voice ever so slightly breathless.

“Did you bring a bag or something to carry the stuff in?” he asked, self-conscious about his growing level of excitement.

Rolling her big green eyes, “Silly me,” she chuckled, “no.”

“I, ah, maybe there’s something,” he offered, moving toward the wastebasket on his side of the room and fishing out a plastic 7/11 bag and holding it up.

Extending a long lithe arm, she pointed to Oliver’s side of the room, “His stuff is over there?” she asked.

There was definitely something wrong with the situation, it didn’t feel right at all but he felt overwhelmed. “Yeah,” he replied, nodding weakly.

“Do you think you could show me, I don’t think it would be right to just start rooting through his stuff,” she stated, an innocent expression on her perfect face.

Staggering passed her, Deacon stopped at the dresser before looking back over his shoulder, “I, we have only been roommates for like two days. I,” he paused, eyes drifting down as she adjusted her pants near the cleft of her sex. Clearing his throat, he turned back and kneeled, opening the bottom drawer, revealing socks and underwear.

“I think I got some,” he commented, glancing over his shoulder only to find she had soundlessly come up behind him and now stood over him.

“That’s good,” she cooed, smiling down at him. “I think maybe a couple of each.”

What was it Cady said, wolves in sheep’s clothing? He suppressed the urge to baa as he grabbed a couple of pairs of each. This close to her, he swore he could feel the heat emanating off her outstanding body. “Here,” he said, handing the clothes to her.

Moving back, she set the clothes on Oliver’s bed while Deacon pulled open another drawer.

“Oh, phone cord too,” she started, “No wait I see it. I got it,” she volunteered, stepping over and bending at the waist, putting her immaculate ass on display as she reached down and took the cord by the plug. Wiggling her firm bottom, she tugged the charge cord out of the socket.

Deacon shook his head slightly, imperceptibly. She was so beautiful but that little voice in the back of his brain whispered caution. There was something wrong. This was all smoke and mirrors. They were trying to pull some Jedi mind shit with Brooklynn’s hotness. Who were they? Why? Where was Oliver? This all had to be connected.

Brooklynn moved in close, placing her hand lightly on his right forearm, the contact sending a jolt through his system.

Chuckling, he raised his brows and shook his head, “Sorry, I think I gapped out or something,” he apologized.

“That’s okay,” she assured, tilting her head slightly and sucking her bottom lip seductively in between her teeth.

Pulling his arm out from under the feathery light touch of her fingers, he moved back toward his own side of the room, “You, ah knew Oliver’s last roommate?” he inquired.

Her eyes sparkled, as the grin on her face spread, “A little.”

Deacon nodded. He was about to ask about the football player Bear, but the voice warned him against tipping his hand that he knew something was out of kilter. “I guess that’s enough to get him through for a few days,” he said, forcing a smile.

Looking into the plastic bag, “What do you think, toothbrush maybe?” she asked, wrinkling her nose cutely.

Deacon pointed to Oliver’s bathroom kit, “Maybe just take the whole thing,” he suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

“Good idea,” she agreed, walking over and picking up the small plastic case.

Watching her walk, body swaying he averted his eyes when she stopping, glancing down at his hands, surprised to find them shaking. Physically he ached for Brooklynn but there was something else about her, something dark, something that made him afraid.

“I suppose that’s it for the time being,” she said, dropping the kit into the bag with Oliver’s other stuff.

Deacon nodded but kept silent.

Glancing at his guitar, “I still want you to play for me sometime,” she stated.

He smiled, “Sure, I would be happy to,” he replied. If he were a moth, she was a raging wildfire.

Moving toward the door, she lingered a moment, a touch of color in her alabaster cheeks, “Later Deacon,” she breathed touching her fingers to her lips and blowing him a kiss before exiting.

Waiting a minute or so, he let out his pent up breath, “Sweet mother of Christ.”

Closing the door, he returned to his bed, picking up his cell phone.