I’ve made women want things they didn’t know they wanted. Made them crave me more than any drug. But then I discarded them.
When I was finished. When I was fulfilled. When I was bored.
Is this what Foxx was thinking when he warned me to stay away? And now that I’ve had her… touched her… tasted her… can I?
I wipe the steam away from the mirror, watching myself amidst the fog. My eyes say “tell her everything”; my scowl says “don’t do it.” I can’t even trust my own face to give me the answers I need. I secure a towel loosely on my hips, sulking slowly over to my black dresser where I remove my favorite flannel pants. I shift them completely over my legs and start to slide into a plain white T, when a noise from outside of the room catches my attention.
It’s soft, melodic. I think those a
