I did as told; He told me to undress and take a breath. For it was my first time with anyone and I was nervous; you could hear my heart race. I thought it was about to jump out of my chest. I stood there in the middle of his master bedroom bare ass naked exposed to the cold air coming through the vent even though the windows were locked shut and the blinds were down. Both palms started to sweat as they leaked through my hands. My nipples were either hard because I wanted him, or they get like that when exposed to specific temperatures. I suddenly, heard a voice coming from down the hallway. He was standing by the door by the time I turned around. It was him, Maxwell Roseman.

"Wow; you look beautiful!" he says as he walks toward me keeping eye contact.

I shied away as my cheeks started to blush. Mr. Roseman circled me and studied the shape of my body by gently touching my waist which made my eyes flutter with excitement and desire for him. He stood behind me and rubbed my shoulders to relax me a little more.

"Lord Jesus this man had the magic touch," I said to myself as I leaned my head back resting my head on his chest.

"Your skin's so soft Queenie; like a baby wrapped in silk," he says calmly.

I didn't know if Maxwell was trying to woo me or flatter me with his words as our eyes shard a passionate gaze, but whatever he was doing it seemed to be working. My mind was racing with all these thoughts of him having his way. My heart rate slowed down as he kissed the side of my neck. I clenched my fist tight as I felt his fingertips touch my sensitive skin. I wanted him badly. He was what I needed. He was all I could think about.

I took in a deep breath as he wrapped his muscular arms around me as the lights above us made his skin glisten with every move he assembled. We hadn't broken our gaze as his hands traveled down below. He rubbed my clit with his middle finger as a tease. I bit my lip and moaned indicating how badly I craved for his touch; his taste, him.

As he turned me around, he gazed deeply into my beautiful light-brown eyes. His eyes were more of a dark-grey; the kind of eyes you'd want to get completely lost in.

I could tell Maxwell wanted me by the bulge in his boxers as it extended outward. My eyes grew wider as I looked down to see it. I felt my heart race as he slowly caressed and embraced me firmly. I could hear his heartbeat along with mine; it felt like we were connected as one as we shared an ardent kiss. The kiss felt like nothing I've experienced before.

He pressed his lips against mine as I moaned with complete passion. His tongue filled my mouth as he dug his hand into my hip; he applied his smooth palm on my thigh as he motioned my hips to sway to the beat of the music that played in the background. He slowly stroked upward to my pussy as my eyes stayed closed biting the sides of my bottom lip.

"This man is amazing," I said as I moved to the beat of the music some more.

Once he detected the wetness of my thighs, I tilted my head back and exhaled wanting this man to take me. He moved his fingers through my locks; and continued to study me. This man has such gorgeous eyes. I said to myself as he rubbed my thighs and in between my legs. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. He had me mesmerized and under his control. As I let out a baby moan, he fingered me some more as I held his shoulders he smirked a little going faster.

"Ah!" I moaned softly.

I clenched onto his muscled body as he kept a steady motion. I held on tighter as he sped up faster moving my clit back and forth with his finger, then slowed down as I started to squirm and cum on his hand. Right about now I'd throw him on the bed and have my way with him if I knew what to do; if we're honest here. "Just don't do anything stupid Queenie." my thoughts were all over the place as I continued to watch him.

"Just take me already,” I say as my eyes closed and take in a deep breath.

"Maxwell!"

I moaned once again as I bit my bottom lip to indicate I was ready and soaking wet. Maxwell is much older than me, and he probably loves to torture his women like this when it comes to sleeping with them. He owns his business downtown. "Roseman Enterprises" well his father Andrew Rosman owns the company, Maxwell is CEO of marketing; but still, he's probably used to this.  I, on the other hand, wasn't. I'm used to hanging out with friends and watching movies with my best friend, Camille.

I closed my eyes and let out a sigh as he removed his finger and abruptly out of nowhere carried me around the room as our lips touch and make out. As I was up in the air; my legs and feet dangle two inches off the ground I felt a rush of goosebumps rush through me as he kissed my collarbone, and neck. 

"Help me..."  I thought.

I didn't know what happened after that; all I knew was he laid me down and processed to thrust his waist on mine. I gripped onto the sheets tightly as we both made the bedrock. I tried not to make painful gestures as he went deeper. As he processed, he saw how uncomfortable I was; and decided to slow down. My face expressions changed, and I became more relaxed, or so I thought.

The bulge in his boxers became harder as he grunted. He propped up my leg and continued to thrust deeper as he kept a steady beat with the headboard. My moans began to increase as he continued to go faster. Grabbing the edge of the bed panting and grunting in between each breath. The picture on the wall above us started to tilt a little as our moans intensify. I started feeling uncomfortable and felt an awful amount of pain. I squeezed onto his muscles and screamed as tears formed.

"STOP!" I bellowed.

I shouted as tears fell from my face. He quickly got up and saw the blood that ruined his thread count of the silk bed sheet. I felt embarrassed better yet humiliated at the least. I couldn't face him after that. I apologized after moments of silence, and I promptly collected my clothes and anything else as I headed for the door.

Several weeks passed, and I haven't heard from Maxwell. Then one day he told me to meet him someplace to "talk" He walked me in his office and told me he was married and that what we had; had to come to an end. I felt ashamed of myself and hurt because Maxwell was my kryptonite that is until I met "her."

Her name was Marisol Simmons; she preferred to be called Miracle. She was a bit older than me like Maxwell, but she had a temper. Eventually, she was someone I grew to trust and grow close too while dealing with Maxwell who I also grown to trust. Miracle helped me get over Maxwell, and I was starting to feel like myself again. I soon began to develop feelings for her as she did the same. I didn't know who I was or who I became. She told me I had to decide on who I wanted to be with, and I had to do it fast, but I couldn't just settle on which one.

Weeks turned into months, and I had to decide. I craved them both. "What was I to do? Who was I?"

I just can't shake the fact that sex this good felt so amazing; nor can I remember the last time I came. He said it to me again, but I couldn't say it back. I can't remember the last thing I said to him. It wasn't pleasant or was it dreadful. I moved away to start over that's it. I couldn't say goodbye for I didn't want to face the shame of breaking his heart. He asked if I felt the same way as he wrapped his arms around my body, but I didn't. I didn't feel the same way. I'm young still. I couldn't say it back without lying to myself primarily, to him. I couldn't lie to him he'd see right through it. Truth is; I didn't know if I loved him. I'm still trying to figure out my life. Figure out what I like, and don't like. There's this other person I've grown let's say, I've become attached to her, and with him confessing his love to me; me of all people hell if I know if I loved him. I was trying to find myself. Did I realize that I question my sexuality? "Was I a lesbian?" "I couldn't possibly be. Right?"

+

Five months earlier...

As the sun rose, so did I. I laid there for a few moments to collect my thoughts from the previous night. I had the covers all the way up to my chest as I saw my clothes scattered all over the room. My pants were at the edge of the bed as so my panties, my shirt was hanging above me from the dashboard, my bra was attached from his love seat, and my black boots were somewhere around here. I heard a sound coming right next to me. It sounded like snoring, very awful snoring. It looked like a cat being murdered by a psychopath on cocaine. I grunted as I grabbed his pillow to drown out the sounds of death. "When will this day end?" I said to myself as I struck him with the pillow in hand. He grabbed hold of the fluffy pillow as he farted a little. "What an animal." I made a face while slowly getting dressed without waking him up.

The sun pierced through the blinds and soon through my eyes as I searched the room for my boots. My cell phone vibrated a few times as I placed my foot in one of the shoes I found from across the room as it dropped on the tan carpeted floor, which looked like it hadn't been vacuumed in months. I finally picked it up as I glanced and saw Camille who prefers to be called Cami, she sent over forty-six text messages and over thirty-eight calls. I placed it in my back pocket as I continued searching for my other boot; which I found two minutes later underneath this man's clothes that reeked of smelly socks and alcohol.

Cami's been my best friend since third grade; she's only two months older than me. We do everything together. We go shopping together, clubbing, drinking, getting into trouble together you name it. When my parents got divorced, she was there, and when I needed a place to stay Cami was there. My name's Harlee Quinzel Ramirez, but I prefer Queenie. I'm twenty-five from Toronto, Canada; but moved to New York to start over. I still don't understand why my parents named me after a DC character. Camille's twenty-six almost twenty-seven she's practically an adult by her standards anyway; and she lives in Queens, NY.

I live with her in a two-bedroom studio with excellent air conditioning, and cable TV. She's hardly ever home though. She's either out with Demetrius; her boyfriend who's twenty-nine and a complete asshole or Penelope; her other friend she works with at the Bumblebee Burger Shack. It's a diner on 32nd. Cami keeps insisting I work with her, but I prefer to paint. That's what I do to make money and pay rent. So far, I haven't painted a masterpiece yet to were it'll be showcased in the huge successful art galleries.

As I slipped into my AC/DC tank top and tied my short brownish curly hair into a messy bun, I took out my phone and sat at the edge of the bed while Cami sends me more messages. I ignore them as I skim through Twitter. I turned my head to the side to see him still laying there now on his back breathing in small breaths as I try to remember the last few hours of what happened. I place my hand on my forehead as I sigh. I looked at the man who seemed to be twenty-five or younger and analyzes his apartment I was in while I placed my phone in my back pocket once more.

Cami continued to blow up my phone with messages. I swear she's like my mother when she's worried. I look out the window and saw the cars passing by as he finally wakes. He puts on his boxers and walks beside me as he kisses the left side of my collarbone. I closed my eyes and bit the side of my bottom lip. Whoever this man was; he sure smelled of cheap cologne, and alcohol.; not to mention he needed a hot shower. I took a good look at him as he yawned and rubbed his eyes. He was not twenty-five; he was twenty-seven and handsome. He was three inches taller than me and had a little stubble. His hair was light-brown with highlights that needed to be re-done and perfect teeth. His eyes were crystal blue like the ocean. "Damn, why does he have to be so fine,” I tell myself as I cross my arms looking away trying not to look into his eyes. "So blue."  I bit my lip hard enough to distract me from making a fool of myself.

"You were amazing last night,” he says as he licks his lips while he turns my head back around to face him. His lips were pink. He had kissable, suckable lips. The kind of lips that made the inside of your pants wet and want to be kissed as he kisses your thighs. His voice made me weak. He sounded like Channing Tatum and Taylor Lautner if those two were ever in a movie together. Okay, maybe he had the body of Tatum, voice like Lautner and the muscles of Gosling.

My eyes fluttered as my palm touched his biceps. He smirked as I couldn't remember what happened. I gave him a concerned look as he backed up and sat at the edge of the bed with one hand on his knee.

"Did we?" I said with one eyebrow raised and arms crossed. He giggled under his breath and shook his head.

"No, we didn't," he said calmly I felt less tense. He looked at me and continued to explain the events that happened. I blushed and hung my head low as he finished and reached for his glasses on the nightstand. I was shocked to see him in his glasses which made him ten times hotter and me; act even more stupid. I looked at my phone as the time read 11:30 am. He looked at me for I stuttered over my words and tripping over things in the room.

"I sh-should go,” I said stumbling over my words trying to speak clearly.

"Harlee-" he says as I cut him off and head for the door. He runs his hands through his hair as it flips back and leans in close to turn the doorknob.

"I-It's Qu-Queenie,"  I say as I walk out his apartment and make my way to the stairs and out the building. He flashes a smile and waves goodbye as he closes the door to his apartment.

I left the apartment as I pulled out my phone to reply to Cami's many messages. As I crossed the street, there was this car that almost hit me. It swerved into the left lane and crashed into a vehicle in the intersection. Before I knew it, there was this man in a suit who shoved me to the side as my head hit the curb. Camille wasn't too far and rushed over to me with her handbag in hand and phone.

The man was on top of me as he pulled me up. I rubbed the back of my head as I saw Cami stand by my side. She and the handsome man in the suit exchanged a few words as he turned and looked at me. The man looked so elegant. His eyes were the most attractive thing about him; they were more of a dark-grey as I couldn't take my eyes off him. He smiled and waited for me to answer.

Cami texts her boyfriend to let him know what happened as people gathered around us, some took out their phones to record the crash. My eyes were glued to this man as he talked to Cami then left. I saw him cross the street as Cami started freaking out like an overly protected mother.

"W-What happened?" I said quietly.

She ignored me as she put on her shades to block the sun beaming in her direction, as we walked the rest of the way to the apartment. When we entered the condo, Cami placed her handbag, cell phone on the counter and then placed her shades down as I walked sluggishly towards my room. Cami followed behind as I plopped onto my bed and rested my head on my pillows. I closed my eyes only for a second as I fell asleep moments later. I woke up hours later and saw Cami watching TV in the living room; which was right next to my room. I sat down next to her on the couch as she kept flipping through channels.

"What happened to you last night Queenie? The last thing I know is us dancing on the dance floor, then as soon as I turn my back; you're gone, with some guy?" she says with a strict tone throwing her hands up in the air waving them around demanding answers. I raise my eyebrow at her and shrug my shoulders as I try to remember.

"I don't know Camille. The next thing I remember is waking up in some guys bed with no clothes on, trying to remember myself, then as I leave his apartment, I almost get killed."I say as I raise my voice.

Cami gets up to get something to drink as I continue to talk but stops with her hand on the refrigerator handle and looks at me giving me a stare that made me quite uncomfortable. She tiptoes with her drink in hand and lays all on me wanting the dirty details. She invaded my space as she stared me down with her eyes wide open and a creepy smile on her face. I ignored her as I felt my forehead. I still had a headache from the fall. I got up before she could get any closer to get aspirin. She blocked the door to the bathroom before I could get to it.

"Was he cute?" she said as she kept repeating it with a smile that turned her cheeks red. I giggled and turned away and didn't answer her as I pushed her out the way. She kept pressing me to answer her questions as she kept asking me different ones.

I finally gave in as I rolled my eyes. I poured a glass of water and took my aspirin. Cami waited for me to answer as I drank my water slowly. "Tell me Queenie" she insisted. She stood in front of me quivering her lip with hands folded giving me the "puppy dog eyes"  I sighed after looking at her make a complete fool of herself. I sat back down on the couch as she followed and sat next to me. "Y-yes he was cute,"  I said feeling embarrassed as I dug my face into the couch. Cami got up and did a little celebration dance as she got the popcorn ready.

"Movie?" she suggested as she puts it in the microwave.

"Mulan?" we both said as we both laughed. I nodded as I browse Netflix. Cami puts the popcorn in a bowl and walks towards the couch. Halfway through the movie, we hear the doorbell ring. I get up and walk over to answer it. I turn the doorknob and see him standing there. The man with the ocean eyes. I heard Cami call out to me, but her voice soon faded as I heard him say my name. The whole room was dark, and it was just the two of us. He was staring right at me, and at that moment I didn't know what to say when he spoke.

"Qu-Queenie," he says as he flashes his teeth and smiles.

What was he doing here? How did he know where I lived? Was he following me? Was he a stalker? "Damn he's fine" These are the type of questions that formed in the back of mind. What does he want? I looked at him blocking any chances for him to enter as I studied his form. It looks like he works out a lot. Butterflies formed in my stomach as my cheeks started to blush. My heart was racing like too fast for me even to take a breath. "GOD! What's the matter with me? Why can't I talk? I say to myself as I try to calm down. I heard my name being called by Cami as I saw her standing beside me out my peripheral vision, she kept nudging me as she wondered what was taking me so long. I paid her no mind as she shouted my name. I still had my headache but staring at this man at my door I don't even know his name, and I'm already making a fool of myself. "Get it together Queenie," I thought to myself as I shook the nerves away.

"Queenie" he spoke with so much bass in his voice I started to squirm in between my legs to keep my composure.

This man sounded so sexy I wish we had slept together last night. Cami got fed up with me taking so long and invited him in. When he crossed the threshold, I snapped back into reality. I went over to pour me a glass of water as he stood there in the middle of our living room/ kitchen as he flips his hair back and licks his lips. Cami looks at me like I lost my mind and returned to the movie. I lick my lips as he studied me up and down. I shy away. He was making me wet. If I stared at him any longer, I was going to burst.

"Harlee-" he says as my eyebrow raises. I cringed at the sound of my name as I squeeze my fist and dig my nails into my skin as I bleed a little.

"I mean Queenie," he says as he takes a breath and digs his hands into his pants pocket.

I blink a few times as we start up a conversation. It seems I had left my ID at his apartment and he was returning it. He handed it back to me as our hands' touch. I wanted him for some strange reason. Cami was invading our space as it made us both uncomfortable. Cami left the apartment to go to her boyfriend's house. I was left alone with a guy I still didn't get his name. I felt very uncomfortable; neither of us spoke a word, and I felt the life sucking the out of me. All these thoughts rushed through my mind of wanting him to pin me over the couch; smack my ass until red marks appear as he thrust his waist into my ass. He snaps me back into focus as he says my name.

"Oliver," he says nervously.

"My name's Oliver, by the way; I just moved here two weeks ago. I live on the fourth floor of this apartment complex. Your ID says you live on the sixth floor, so I was returning it." he says as he heads for the door. I touched his bicep as we shared a gaze.

"Thanks, Oliver," I said in a sweet tone as we both licked our lips. We spoke at the same time as he smiled. I let go of his arm and opened the door. He kissed me on the cheek as a goodbye and walked away. I closed the door behind me and slid down to the floor as my insides were screaming for help. I tried taking a bath to get Oliver off my mind, but all I do is think of him. As I step into the hot water and soak in the bubbles as it relaxes me I could feel the butterflies return.

I close my eyes and picture Oliver on top of me rubbing me down as he slowly plays with me moaning, saying his name; and caressing is boxers with my hands making the bulge bigger and wider as he arches his head back and groans while biting his lip.

Cami returned home hours later as I was still in the tub letting go of the stress and stench from the previous night. I began to moan softly as she knocked on the door to check on me. I jumped as I was startled by the knock and by my name being called. She called out to me once more, and when I didn't answer, she went to bed. I stayed in the tub as I played with my clit a little. I didn't even know Oliver, and I was playing with myself thinking about what this man would do to me. Maybe in the back of my mind, we did have sex that night, and he only said we didn't because he was excellent.

I got out of the tub a few minutes later feeling a little bit better than before and dressed in my nightwear. I walked to my room and laid down as I pictured the man in the suit who saved me from getting hit hours ago. Whoever he was he looked like one of those men from the male model magazines Cami hides underneath her bed. I didn't quite catch his name though. He looked so sexy I couldn't stop dreaming about him the whole night. I felt my eyes getting heavy as I started to fall asleep. When morning came, I took a shower, got dressed and ate my breakfast which was just a bowl of cereal. Cami has left to go to work which meant I had the house to myself. It gets lonely sometimes, but I enjoy the quiet. It helps me focus when I paint.

A few hours passed, and I decided to paint it. Camille's not going to be home until eight, and it was only 10:15 am., so I painted the remainder of the day. I grabbed my stuff and headed to the park to clear my mind for one and to see if I can get inspired. After setting up, I saw a lot of people; some were playing, mostly the kids, others were putting on shows, these mothers were sitting down talking about whatever, and a few other things. It was a beautiful day outside the wind was just right, and the sun wasn't too hot either. I saw a woman playing her violin not too far from where I was painting, and as I looked at her, I studied the way she held her instrument close and how she didn't move as much when she played. I watched her as I began to paint her.

People stopped and stared as they dropped money in her case as she smiled and nodded at them. Whatever she was playing brought tears to my eyes a little. She was very talented, and when I was done painting her, I admired my technique and the quality of how I captured her. I named it: "The Woman with the Answers" I called it that because she seemed to have all the answers when she plays. Her music was soothing, and peaceful to the mind and it cleansed the soul. I took the painting off my easel and carefully placed it down near the ground beside me. I placed my hat down too because I was getting a little hot just wearing it.

By noon not a lot of people stayed in the park. The little ones had school, and the adults had to work. The woman playing the violin packed up her things and left. A couple of people saw the painting of her and complimented me as they too placed money in my hat. I continued painting and watching teenage boys play basketball. I painted an elderly couple feeding the birds as they flew in to eat the little breadcrumbs from the ground. They looked like they've been married for years. Once I got done, I named it: "Beyond My Years" and placed it next to the other painting.

I painted six more and placed them next to each other one by one. Each painting was different and told a story. That's what I love about art; it tells a story, and we're all different. It was 2:20 pm and I was starving; luckily there was a snack bar in the park, and I grabbed me a double cheeseburger with extra pickles and sprite. I sat down on the bench eating while guarding my equipment and paintings against a distance. No one seemed to steal it or touch it while I was away from my post. Once I finished eating, I went back over to my paintings and began to do a few more. I looked down at my hat and saw I had made $89 in tips. I grabbed the money and placed it in the small pocket in front. I placed my hat down and proceeded to paint.

"Excuse me miss, but how much for the paintings?"  said the man.

He pulls out his wallet counting the bills as he licks his lips. I look up at him then at the paintings. I tensed up as he looked at each one. My mind was racing as so my heart race increased times ten. He thought long and hard about which painting to buy let alone all of them. He stared at one: It was a self-portrait of me; of my face turned to the side with very fined detailed strokes. I glanced at it as he pointed it out. I got nervous when he pointed to the one next to it. That painting was of a black married couple. The husband had his arms wrapped around his wife touching her stomach as she smiles. It was a medium-sized portrait that was worth $230; it's now only $175 because I painted that two months ago and I was happy someone bought it. He handed me the money as I gave him the painting.

"Have a nice evening," he said as he walked away waving goodbye.

I smiled and waved back and finished my painting. Around six o'clock I grew tired and hungry. I began to pack up and head back to the apartment when some man bumped into me and knocked my stuff down. I placed my hair behind my ear as I keeled down to pick up my belongings when our hands touched, and our eyes met. It was him! The man who saved me yesterday. He wasn't in his suit this time. He was in his workout attire. I had dropped and cracked my phone when we bumped into each other.

"Damn it!"  I muttered angrily.

He handed me back the rest of my things including my busted iPhone. "Something told me before I left the apartment this morning to grab my phone case," I thought to myself as I placed it in my coat jacket pocket with a frown on my face. He looked at me and saw I was troubled and offered to make it up to me. This man saved my life, then offers to make it up to me by breaking my phone. Can this day get any worse? I thought. Then it rained.

The rain came pouring down as I cover my hair with my jacket. My money was safe in my bag I brought along with my art supplies, but those got damaged. I sighed deeply as I touched my forehead because my paintings started to wash away into the sidewalk. I picked up my brushes and placed them in my bag. "Miss, I a-polo-" he says as I lift up my head. His focus was in on my eyes as the reflection made them look different the way my body was turned to him. He placed his hands on his hips and waited for me to respond.

"I'm sorry miss," he says as I look at him. I didn't say anything for I was upset about my phone, and all my paintings got destroyed. I shook my nerves away as I took in a deep breath. He placed his hand on my shoulder as we shared another gaze. I pulled out my phone to look at it. He made a face and told me he was sorry once more. I shook my heads and understood it wasn't his fault as we parted ways.

Cami wasn't home quite yet; as I came inside all wet from the rain and upset sadder that my phone broke. I placed everything to the side and stripped out of my wet clothes and took a long steamy shower. As the water running, me adjusting it to the right temperature I stepped in as the water hit my face as I turned, and it ran down my back. The water was warm then turned hot as the glass fogged the bathroom. My hair was wet and dripping down my body as I just stood there. I screamed to express myself not loud enough to break the glass, but loud enough to let out tears and I began to cry, and I did. I cried in the shower as my life was falling apart.

I practically do the same thing over and over. It's sad and pathetic if you ask me. I needed excitement; I needed adventure. I needed something to keep me motivated. Sure, painting is what I love, and I'm good at it, but when I moved here, I didn't expect the same thing to happen here as I did in Brooklyn. I stayed in the shower for another five minutes and stepped out with the towel wrapped around my body as so my hair and walked to my room and put on a yellow tank top and Riverdale sweats. I tied my hair in pigtails and walked into the kitchen to cook a decent meal.

Cami hadn't returned home, and it was almost nine o'clock. I wouldn't know because my phone's busted, but at least we had a clock on the wall and one in the kitchen. I cooked two chicken breasts seasoned with lemon pepper as garlic, mashed potatoes, and spinach. I grabbed my chicken breast and left the other for Cami if she ever decides to eat. I ambled over to the couch and flipped to Netflix as I watched Riverdale.

I ate slowly as I watched the show and heard the doorbell ring. I paused the show and got up to answer it. As I opened it still pissed my phone, it was him... Oliver.

"May I come in?" he says as I invite him in.

"What are you doing here, Oliver?" I said in a soft tone.