His eyes narrowed. “Thanks.”
“Just stating the facts. Okay, so here’s a key to my place.” I pulled it from my pocket and set it on the counter. “Feel free to come and go as you please but if you take wine, make sure to replace it.” The second he took a step forward to retrieve the key, his shorts went.
Our eyes locked right before I let mine drift down.
Commando.
I was staring at Ian’s cock. Ian was staring at his own cock. Disco’s eyes were on Ian’s cock and I quickly covered them to save her virtue. It took every bit of strength I had to look away but not before I took a mental picture. Ian cursed as he pulled up his pants and apologized.
I held up my hand surprising myself with a steady voice. “It’s fine, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” That was a lie, his dick was impressive and beautiful. I regrouped and reclaimed my tongue.
“But you should probably wear shorts that fit and underwear while you stay with me.”
“Agreed,” he picked up his wool and turned his back to me. “See you tomorrow then.”
The next morning, I heard Disco squeak at the foot of my bed and pushed off my covers just as Ian raced in after her. “Sorry, I tried to grab her before she got… fuck me—” his eyes lingered on my chest and I looked down and realized I wasn’t wearing anything but underwear and my cami. During the night it must have shifted above my miss sized tits. I laughed and pulled down my shirt to cover myself. “Now we’re even,” I yelled at Ian’s retreating back.
“Hardly. My cock is pointing north.”
“Still a Marine with that filthy mouth, huh?”
“I’ll keep it clean, Ms. Vaughn.”
I picked up a vying Disco from the foot of my bed. “Don’t worry about it, Ian. Thousands of people have seen these tits, Mardi Gras, not to mention hundreds of concerts. Alcohol has a way of temporarily curing anxiety. A few times a year, I could be quite the party girl.”
That was before you became a bohemian recluse.
I left that part out.
Ian’s voice echoed from the guest bathroom. “How worldly of you.”
“I’d like to think so.” Disco barked. “And Disco agrees.”
“Better take a Benadryl,” he said, peeking into my room to make sure I was decent before he again called me out on the fact that I was not allergic to the puppy as I tossed her around on my bed. “You needed her,” I said affectionately and unapologetically as I kissed her fluffy face. “And I wanted you to have her.”
Ian opened the door fully, sat on the edge of my bed and watched us play. After a few minutes, his voice cut through my laughter. “You grew up beautiful, Koti Vaughn.”
Our eyes met before I gave him a lopsided grin. “And you grew up so handsome, Ian Kemp.”
His smile was a sledgehammer to my chest. “So, I’ve moved my stuff into the guest bedroom. I set up my board in the living room. Hope that’s okay.”
“Of course,” I said, lunging after Disco as she tried to wander off the bed.
“Damnit, woman! Could you stop that?” He asked, pushing me back to sit upright and pulling my comforter firmly in place to cover me. “I know we’re friends, but I’m still a man.”
“Really?” I said with a chuckle before eyeing his crotch with a smirk. I was shamelessly flirting and couldn’t have cared less. “Hadn’t noticed. Besides didn’t you hammer all that pent-up sexual frustration out with barstool number five?”
Ian grinned. “No, I failed at execution and accidentally passed out while I was taking a piss. I woke up with a couch pillow under my head on the bathroom floor. She did leave me a note to call her.”
“You lied?”
“Maybe I liked seeing you jealous.”
“I wasn’t jealous and how very immature of you.”
“I never said I was a saint, Koti.”
My name sounded like heaven rolling off his tongue. His eyes grew dark as I gripped Disco tightly to me. “Why would it make you happy if I was jealous?”
Ian’s eyes roamed my neck and chest before they drifted back to mine. “Are you hungry for breakfast?”
“Are you going to answer my question?”
“No,” he said, standing abruptly. “House rules, no nudity.”
“Hey, I’m not the one with the hat-trick trousers,” I said in an attempt to mock his accent.
“That was actually pretty decent.”
“I’m trying to get better.” We shared a smile before I forced myself to look away. It had been a long time since I’d had any testosterone in my bedroom. I was seconds away from stripping down and begging him to use me. Instead, I spoke to Disco.
“Hey baby, want some bacon?”
“Not us, we eat turkey.” Ian plucked Disco from my hold and I frowned. “She loves you more, doesn’t she?”
“She better, I’m the one who’s doing all the training. Plus, she loves our runs, we’re going ten miles today.”
“You can’t walk her that hard!” I said getting out of bed and shoving my pajama pants on.
Ian looked away as I pulled a thin T-shirt over my head.
“I don’t,” he called over his shoulder as I followed him down the hall.
“What?”
He turned to me and cradled Disco in his forearm.
“You run with her like that?”
He nodded.
“Ha! I bet you get a ton of attention.”
“She’s my ace in the hole. I have an orange juice waiting every morning at mile five.”
I looked at him skeptically. “Making rounds all over the island?”
He gave me a devilish grin. “But I’ll be coming home to you tonight.”
My heart skipped an odd beat before he disappeared out the door.
I spent my day getting three houses ready and the last of it walking Mrs. Tartar through the Kemps’ spotless beach house. Ian’s new cabinetwork opened the place up, made it seem light and a bit more… airy. It was truly beautiful.
“So you live next door?”
“Yes, but I would prefer you contact me by the number on the counter.”
Mrs. Tartar twisted her lips in distaste before she rudely dismissed me. I wasn’t looking forward to a week of her scrutiny. She had a definite bug up her ass. I was counting on my island to rid her of it.
Walking back to my house, I saw my porch candles were lit and my playlist was already on. I opened the door to see Ian in the kitchen. He was wearing a navy-blue T-shirt and loose sports shorts. His white smile greeted me. “Hey, didn’t want to disturb your routine.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, thanks.”
“I wanted to cook tonight if that’s okay?”
“Of course, smells good.” I pulled a vase from the cabinet next to him and filled it with water before I slid Banion’s latest creation in.
“You brought me flowers?” he asked teasingly.
“My friend owns a flower shop. I use him to make welcome bouquets for the rentals. Beautiful, aren’t they?”
“They are,” he said as he chopped up some figs.
“What ya’ cooking?”
“Salad and very bland chicken.”
“I’ll take it,” I said, snatching a fig from the cutting board and popping it into my mouth. I picked up a mason jar that sat next to a pile of vegetables. “What’s this?”
“Pomegranate dressing.”
“Wow,” I said before I shook it up and brought a fingerful to my mouth. “Delicious.”
“Yeah, my mother insisted she teach me a few things about cooking when I was growing up.”
“That’s awesome. I had to learn my cooking skills from Paula Dean and with your diet, I’ll be hard-pressed to find a recipe suitable for you.”
“No worries. I’m easy. I also bought some bananas,” he said his deep voice pure temptation. “I’m making you pops for dessert. I figured I’d reward you for being such a good muse.”
“Good muse?” I took a seat on the stool opposite of him. “How so?”
“You always have music going, it’s always lit up over here. I think I might enjoy your bubble while I’m here.”
“They do sell candles and docking stations everywhere. You could create a bubble of your very own.”
He grinned down at his cubed figs. “I said your bubble. Should I get crystals too? Then my man card should definitely get revoked.”
“Nothing wrong with wanting a little calm in your life.”