Chapter 6 - Clay

Maybe today can recover and be a great day. Sure my phone is probably a bust, and I’ll have to replace it before I can get in touch with Missy and Sheila to apologize for leaving them hanging and maybe make it up to them. But that’s a worry for later. All my thoughts are now centralized on Xenia’s sexy, legging-clad ass.

I’ve never had trouble getting women out of their clothes and into bed. At least not till Zeus came along. But I have high hopes this time. Meeting her was entirely his fault, and he seemed sweet on her dog. Dog aims high. Tinkerbell is a foot taller than him. No clue how he plans to tap that unless she lays flat on the ground or he uses the steps that Reese bought him to get on the furniture.

But if he’s busy trying to get close to her dog, that means he isn’t going to interfere should things go well between Xenia and me. I was kicking off my wet shoes when she mentioned why I wouldn’t want to bring a woman here. I grimaced. 

“I told you this isn’t my place,” I admitted. “My cousin… has an interesting sense of humor. Her love language is pranks. She thought it would be hilarious to swap all her art for erotic homosexual art. That’s the tamest piece.”

“Oh… okay. I mean, it is a well-done piece of art. The details put into everything are impressive.” Xenia shrugged. “Do you know what it says?” She asked, pointing to the painting.

“No clue. I’d have to ask my cousin Forrest or his wife, Riko. They can read Japanese.” I shrugged. “Not one of the languages I’m fluent in.”

“Oh, and what languages are you fluent in? And how many cousins do you have?” She arched her brow.

“English, Greek, Russian, Portuguese, and profanity.” I smiled as she rolled her eyes.

“You are such a dumbass. But it is cool that you know Greek, Russian, and Portuguese. They aren’t prevalent for most American kids to learn. Most schools give you the option of French or Spanish. What school let you learn Greek, Russian, and Portuguese?” Xenia asked, taking a cue from my bare feet to slip off her shoes before wandering further into the apartment. 

“Oh, I took French in school, I remember choice phrases, but that’s about all that’s stuck. I know Greek because hello, Nikolaidis. You don’t get more of a Greek last name.” I chuckled, gesturing to myself. “My paternal grandfather is from Sparta. I know Russian because my paternal grandmother is from Moscow. I’m second generation Nikolaidis born in the states.” I explained.

“Oh… well, that explains the Greek God statue look.” She nodded, giving me a look I was familiar with. That’s the look of a woman, considering what I might look like naked. All she has to do is ask, and I’ll happily get out of these wet clothes.

“So, will you tell me your mother is from Portugal?” She taunted, crossing her arms in a way that made her tits stand out. 

Do women know this is what happens? If they do, is it always intentional? Is this their way of weaponizing titis against men? I mean, I’m not going to complain. I’m all for a good set of tits getting pushed up and cleavage put on display. 

“No, my mother is from Boston and is one of the biggest bitches to walk the earth.” I shuddered, thinking about my mother.

“My mamãe is from Brazil,” I explained.

“Your mamãe? Let me guess, divorced parents.” She nodded in understanding.

“Yep,” I confirmed. “Dad couldn’t take the bitch till death do they part. So they split, and he got back together with his high school sweetheart. And my mamãe is the best, and she taught me Portuguese.”

“And now that you know my genealogy, we should probably be getting undressed,” I suggested, catching her off guard as she gasped.

“Excuse me? I may have come here, but don’t think you’re….” Her indigent words trailed off as I peeled my wet shirt off.

“Did you not want to wash and dry your pond-soaked clothes?” I cocked my head, smiling as she blushed, staring at me. 

I take pride in my appearance. I work hard to have these muscles while winning bodybuilding competitions is nice and of course, being healthy is always good. I mostly do it for the look Xenia’s giving me. I’m all for a woman eye fucking me. Because it usually leads to me fucking them. I don’t know if Xenia is the sort that will already be down to fuck or if she’s the type that would take a few interactions.

“Oh… right.  But I’m not going to strip naked or stand in my underwear with a guy I just met.” She laughed it off.

“Wouldn’t expect you to. The only time you should get naked is if you want to.” I assured her as I unbuttoned my jeans.

“Could you please keep your clothes on!?” She yelled, holding her hands over her face.

“I’m not getting naked. I have boxers on. I don’t want to stay in wet jeans or drip water upstairs to the laundry.” I rolled my eyes, stripping out of my jeans. 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you!” She exclaimed but was peeking through her fingers. 

“I don’t see what the big deal is.” I’m comfortable in my body and think I would still be even if I didn’t do the bodybuilder competitions. “On any given day, I usually stand around in underwear with a few hundred people looking at me.” I shrugged. 

“Huh?” Xenia furrowed her brow, dropping her hands to look at me. I smiled as her eyes widened slightly, looking at the complete package. Almost since I’m standing here in my black boxers, so she can’t see the goods. 

“I’m a bodybuilder. So at competitions, I wear a skin-tight pair of trunks or something similar to a speedo on stage.” I shrugged. 

“You can undress in the half bath.” I pointed to the hall bathroom next to the stairs. “I’ll grab you a robe from upstairs, and you can wear that while I throw our clothes through the wash.” I offered.

“Um… okay, that I can work with. What should I do with Tinkerbell?” She asked as she looked at our dogs. 

“Unleash her. She’ll be fine. I don’t think Zeus will care if she drinks his water or eats his food.” I shrugged before heading upstairs. 

I was taking the stairs two at a time, knowing I probably looked like a total goof as I did it. But I heard Xenia giggle, and that was the point. She needs to be way less tense about being here. I’m going to get nowhere unless she does. So I gotta earn her trust, that’s all. I can manage that as long as Zeus doesn’t do something to screw this up.

I tossed my clothes into the stacked washer and dryer in the hallway before going into my room to grab a clean robe and throw on a pair of sweats and one of my muscle shirts. Xenia seemed to be on edge about me being in my boxers. So I’ll put clothes on if it will make her feel comfortable. 

I may get around, but I was raised right. I was taught to respect women even as dysfunctional as my family can get, mostly my mother. I mean, shit, I worship women. There isn’t a damn thing on this planet a man can do a woman couldn’t, and probably better. I learned that one as a kid.

I’d seen some smug bastard asked to speak with the man in charge, thinking that my Aunt Artemis couldn’t know squat about construction just to be put in his place because she knew the business even better than my dad. And growing up with Reese as my twin sister and best friend, I saw how differently people treated her. Even though she’s a bigger girl, they tried to make her feel inferior.

I’d always wanted to jump to fight in her honor but knew it was better to let her fight. It made a better and more lasting impression that she was a force to be reckoned with. It wasn’t just my Aunt Artemis and my sister. My other girl cousins, like Makayla, are petite or more average compared to Reese can and will handle themselves. 

Women are fucking badasses. So I realized as a boy from watching how my Uncle Shaw treated my aunt and how my dad treated my mamãe that the way to a woman’s heart was to treat them as your equal. To show them love and respect in the way they want. And while I’ve never had a committed relationship, any woman I’ve been with, whether for one night or a short-lived fling, was treated like a damn queen. 

With that thought in mind, I hurried downstairs to find the half-bathroom door closed. Tinkerbell and Zeus had migrated to the living room and took up the sofa by the fireplace. Holy shit, my dog has game! Though fuck him taking the best spot in the apartment. I could sit by the fire on the rug with Xenia. It would be an excellent way to warm up and maybe find more creative ways if she’s interested.

“Xenia, not going to look, but I have the robe if you want to trade it for your wet clothes,” I said as I knocked at the door.

The door barely opened as her arm stuck out, holding her wet top and shorts. She’s freaking adorable, hiding, so I can’t get a peek at her underwear. I took the clothes with one hand and passed her the robe. As soon as she had the robe, the door slammed shut with a “Thanks.”

I chuckled, took her clothes upstairs, and threw them into the wash with mine. When I returned, she was standing in my fluffy white robe that was way too big, pooling at her feet and trailing slightly behind her like a train. She was looking around, probably trying to figure out what to do next and if I was downstairs yet.

“Thirsty or hungry?” I asked, startling her as I approached her, careful not to stop on the robe.

She jumped, turned, and tripped on the robe. “Oh shit!” She yelped as I managed to grab her before she could land on the hardwood floor. 

“Gotcha,” I assured her, instinctively pressing her closer. 

It took me half a heartbeat to realize her tripping on the robe had opened it, and her bra-clad breasts were pressed against my chest. Her blue-green eyes darted from my eyes to my lips, her hands clinging to my muscle shirt as she licked her lips. I don’t know if that was an intentional invite, but I took it as an invite and leaned closer to kiss her.