Exposed
slight wave. She'd guessed by his overall well-built stature and appearance there was some athletics in his background.
    She couldn't believe she was doing this. "If I could just get one or two paychecks, then ..."
    "Done." He responded so quickly and assuredly it made her smile up at him.
    "I won't be any trouble, I swear," she said. "I will clean up after myself." Then, under her breath, she said, "I can't believe I'm doing this."
    "It doesn't matter what they think anymore, Nia," Jack said starkly, and she knew she had to really start believing that soon.

Chapter Five
    J ack thought it was surreal, bringing Nia home. He wanted to ... it was his idea. The strange part was he was worried over what she'd think of his house. How clean it was, the decoration, and the appearance. He'd never realized homes were extensions of people, and he wanted Nia to like his. Of course, she'd seen it. But living there was quite different in intimate details. Such as the two explicit girlie magazines he'd forgotten he'd left on the guest bed when he went in there some months ago to relieve his complete sexual frustration with his wife.
    "Ah, hell, sorry."
    He dropped Nia's two suitcases and hurriedly reached for the dirty magazines on top of the black and gold bedspread. The room was otherwise neatly kept, and decorated to the hilt by his soon-to-be former wife.
    "No ... leave them," Nia said, then she immediately blushed so much when his gaze hit hers that he couldn't help smiling. "I-I've never seen one," she stammered, then she said, "It's okay." As if trying to make him feel more comfortable.
    For some reason he thought if she was going to test the waters and look at some nude magazines she shouldn’t start with such explicit ones. She was a housewife, for Christ's sake.
    "They're, ah, explicit," he said, looking down on her.
    "Okay ... I still want them," she replied, with much less embarrassment.
    Jack figured there was something going on here he was missing, which was typical about men understanding women. He just wanted one of them to think he was a hero, and therefore want to lick him from head to toe, at least once a day—then he'd never need to completely understand them. Because understanding them was impossible.
    "Well, where can I put your suitcases for you?" he asked, moving over the tricky subject, and he bent to grab her suitcases.
    "The dresser and that chair would be good," she said, walking over to peek in the bathroom with a flip of the light on and off. "This bedroom is decorated so nicely, Jack. I've never seen any guestroom so lush before. Did a decorator do it?"
    Jack stalled, wondering what it was about Nia saying the word "lush." Then he offered in a tight voice, "Sadie did it." At least he hadn't said, "My wife did it."
    "Oh, heck, I shouldn't have asked that," Nia said. "You don't want to say. I don't want to know that. We don't ..." She paused with a big breath. "The room’s too dark, Jack. And, my God, what are those awful things on the dresser?"
    Jack went from tightly wound into chuckling within seconds as he set her suitcases where she wanted them, and then he stopped by the offending "things."
    "Decorative accents, Sadie would call them. I have always thought they look like tall pregnant monkeys, and who the hell wants that on their bureau?"
    Nia laughed, and when he looked at her she had her fingers over her lips with a smile behind them. She was looking over his shoulder, and he turned. "So, Jack, is that a picture of two large black blobs on gold?"
    He could tell she was trying not to laugh outright, and he stopped being uptight about whether she'd like his house, because he realized none of the stuff in it was him. It was all Sadie. “I'm afraid to know how much I paid for that thing." He looked back at her. "It’s supposed to be abstract art, Sadie said, when I asked the same thing."
    Nia nodded, chuckling behind her fingers.
    "Nia, you have my permission to move any of this stuff you don't want
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