Five Weeks (Seven Series #3)

They made it to the bottom just in time to see Lexi staring down at her cutoff shorts. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

 

 

Compared to what Naya was wearing? A whole damn lot. That woman was sexilicious, even by Jericho’s standards, and he wasn’t into brunettes. Naya had on a white slim-fitted jumpsuit. The shorts were short, and the top was a sleeveless V-neck that buttoned up. You could see her black bra beneath the light fabric, and Jericho wondered what the view was from the back. His eyes traveled down her suntanned legs to the silver anklet above her right foot. Naya had luscious brown curls and burgundy lips that were full and seductive. She couldn’t be more different than Lexi, but they used to be neighbors and had forged a strong friendship. Jericho wondered why he’d never been lucky enough to live next door to an exotic dancer.

 

“Why don’t you change into something a little feminine?” Naya suggested, tapping her hoop earring. “You look like you’re going to a baseball game. All you need is a footlong and a baseball cap.”

 

Lexi curled her fingers around Austin’s arm. “Well, I might have to go upstairs for the baseball cap, but I have the footlong right here.”

 

Jericho burst out laughing and coughed in his hand to cover it up. Austin popped her playfully on the rear, and she jumped forward and squeaked.

 

“Now that’s what I like to see,” Naya purred. “Nothing sexier than a—”

 

“Footlong?” Jericho finished.

 

Naya cut him a steely glare. “I don’t believe we’ve met?”

 

“We met once, but you were on your knees,” he said with a chuckle.

 

Last year, Austin’s wolf had killed Lexi’s ex-boyfriend to save her life. Afterward, Jericho had swung by the apartment and found Naya on her hands and knees, cleaning blood and roses off the floor. She’d also called someone to dispose of the body.

 

“The name’s Jericho.”

 

Her eyes sparkled, and she brushed her hair away from her shoulder. “I know you. I’ve seen you gyrate those hips onstage before; you could give me a run for my money.”

 

Jericho took a seat on the stairs and twisted one of his rings around his finger.

 

“Do you think I look okay?” Lexi whispered to Austin.

 

He slipped his hands around her ass and crushed his lips against hers. “Good enough that I might call off your movie,” he murmured against her mouth, nibbling on her bottom lip.

 

Jericho saw a little tongue action and looked away.

 

“No, no!” Naya folded her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. “This is a planned event, and I won’t let my girl be distracted by—”

 

“A footlong?” Jericho suggested.

 

Naya picked at her fingernail. “You’re getting less funny.”

 

“That’s okay, honey. You’re getting less sexy.”

 

She feigned indifference and sighed. “Lexi, are we ready?”

 

“Yeah. Just about. My purse is upstairs. I’ll be right back.”

 

As she jogged past Jericho, Lexi did her hip shake thing, and Austin’s pupils dilated. He swiped his tongue across his bottom lip and growled, “Be right back.” Austin hiked up the stairs like a man on a mission, two steps at a time.

 

“I swear, if he makes us late again…” Naya sang to herself as she strolled toward one of the windows on the right. She held the lacy curtain between her fingers. “This is pretty.”

 

“Lynn decorated the house.”

 

Lexi’s mom suffered frequent episodes of what Jericho liked to call storegasms. She had multiples too. Every time she walked into the home section of a store, she would load up her cart. When they bought the house last year, it came unfurnished, so there were a lot of rooms to fill. Lynn was the only one around there who had a professional touch.

 

The front door swung open, and Wheeler ambled in, kicking off his shoes and slamming the door behind him. He was shirtless and red in the face. The tattoos on his arms were a collage of images he wore like sleeves. Wheeler didn’t believe in putting animals on his body; he’d once said it was bad luck for a Shifter to do that unless the image was of his own animal, so the only one he had was a wolf. His chest was free of tats, but he had one on his back.

 

Wheeler wiped his sweaty face and unbuckled his belt, throwing the leather strap on top of the pile of shoes.

 

“Where the hell have you been?” Jericho asked.

 

“Lynn wanted that space on the right side of the yard dug up for a garden. I got a real problem with the fact everyone took off and left me to hoe up that dirt by myself and lay down topsoil.” A drop of sweat fell from his head onto the floor, and he slicked back his brown hair. “Manual labor is not my thing.”

 

“I had my doubts you were capable of doing anything laborious with your hands,” Naya said. She was leaning against the wall on her right shoulder, studying her nails. Jericho could feel the tension snapping between them like live wires.

 

Wheeler hadn’t realized she was in the room, and he swiftly headed toward the staircase.

 

“And I thought I was the only * in the room,” Naya murmured, shifting her gaze out the window.