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digs her fingers into my back as I bring her to the edge. Her eyes are fluttering and she's twisting, her back curving impossibly as I pound into her. I suck on her breast, swirling my tongue around her nipple, and she screams in ecstasy as her body convulses with pleasure. Her hot sex clenches my cock in gratifying spasms as she climaxes.
    Having attended to her needs, I'm a good guy. After all, I take care of my own. I thrust faster and harder bring myself to the edge of abandon.
    I needed this.
    In and out, faster and harder, I can feel myself approaching the edge. I grab her breasts in both hands and give over to the waves of pleasure. But when I close my eyes and come, it's not Wednesday I see. Instead, I see Savannah's pretty face, her big, caramel eyes and shiny, black hair, her perfect ass in her cutoffs, and that sassy look she gave me earlier.
    Fuck. I come hard, squirting my hot cum in the wrong body.

Chapter Nine
    Savannah
    I t's been a long day, but I still need to do something when I get home. I'm frustrated with how unsuccessful my day was and how hopeless things look. Tomorrow, I'm probably going to have to go around to the diners and fast food joints and see if any of them is hiring. Not at all what I was hoping to do, but I'll do what I need to do to pay my rent. 
    Still, I've dreamt of being a tattoo artist since I was a little girl admiring my mom's magical tattoo and I'm not giving up that easily. Maybe I can't do what I want now, but eventually. Or maybe I can find a solid job waitressing and ask Anna-Lynne if I can apprentice with her when I'm not working, just to get something on my resume and maybe a small client base.
    I'll figure it out.
    In the interim, I just need to busy myself with something productive and rewarding. I'm already filthy from walking around in the heat all day, so I may as well add to that dirt and get this place into a little better shape before I go take a shower.
    A short investigation proves fruitful and I tinker with the small radio in the living room for a few minutes until I find a good station. Then I crank it up, already feeling some of my worries slip away as I roll my shoulders and wiggle my hips to the familiar track. I grab a broom from the pantry and twirl with it, indulging myself in a brief daydream of dancing with Cooper, before getting to work.
    I sweep through the entire apartment, staying out of Cooper's room, then find some rags, cleaning detergent and brillo pads under the sink. I'm not entirely certain that they didn't come with the apartment when he got it, but I'm pleased to find them. Already feeling better, I set to work on the kitchen. As I scrub and spray and polish, zoning out to the music, I let my mind wander.
    I think briefly about home and the chaos that I must have caused, but that's too heavy and not making me feel better. Instead, I turn my thoughts to my mysterious new roommate.
    Has he always lived around here? Did he move here recently? While he seems like a down-to-earth enough guy to have been born and raised in the same town where he is now, something tells me otherwise. At the very least, I'm guessing that he lived or worked elsewhere at some point. Maybe even abroad? He has an intelligent way about him...
    I chide myself for the assumption. I've had very minimal interaction with the man and here I am, imagining him as some well-traveled, driven hunk. The only part of it that I know to be true is that he is, undeniably, a hunk. That chiseled jaw, that sculpted chest, those perfect abs, those strong arms with those perfect sleeves of ink—and that's without even considering that he has a perfect face to match that perfect body. His black hair is just the right amount of shaggy, His steely blue eyes are piercing. They're the kind of eyes you have to be careful to not look into too long, or you'll fall right into their pools of blue.
    His voice is deep and secure, his handshake grip strong, and his movements masculine, but graceful. Like