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I almost cry out at the lost opportunity. Because he can’t just tease me like that, can he?
“Where are you going?” I ask instead of whining, why aren’t you kissing me?
“To put my celestial cock away so I can restore your vision and get ice for your nose.” The bastard winks and walks out the door.
Composing myself, I pick up my bathrobe—now stained with blood—trying not to pass out again as I put it back on.
What the fuck do I do now? I totally perved on Remi. I would carve anyone with a dull knife if they ever did that to me.
What if the hot manny did that to you? Well, then I’d have to put on a show. It’s only fair to reciprocate.
It’s all fine. An innocent mistake. I was taken off guard that I had a naked man in my bathroom, that’s all. I haven’t had one in a long time—a naked man in the shower. Or in my bed.
I’m just sexually deprived. I’ve read that sexual frustration can lead to all kinds of mental health problems, including fantasizing about a guy who is totally off limits.
It’s just about his proximity. That’s all.
And maybe the way he cares for my daughter. Yeah, that too.
And his cooking is fucking amazing. I enjoy his meals. So what?
And he’s a really great person. What’s there not to like? Platonically, of course.
And … and … I bet he fucks like a wild stallion with his huge horse cock.
I’m going to hell.
Dressed for the day, I power-stride toward the kitchen to get some coffee before I leave.
I will be cool. It’s not a big deal. I’ve seen dicks before, and I’m a grown woman. I can act like an adult and deny it ever happened ... with conviction.
As soon as I step over the threshold, my eyes catch a juicy booty bent over while its owner fishes something out of the oven.
They’re banana nut muffins. Which gives me a flashback to his banana and nuts. Which I’m going to, of course, ignore.
“You clean up nice, Queeny.” He smiles widely, and I almost pass out. Like, a real nineteenth-century swoon. Those motherfucking dimples are trying to murder me. I whisper a Hail Mary and turn away.
“What was that?” Remi taunts and saddles up to me at the counter as I pour myself coffee.
“What was what?” I huff. Tell me he heard that.
“Sounded like, ‘Oh, dear mother of God’.” He makes the sign of the cross and places his palms together. I’d laugh if I wasn’t so focused on keeping expressionless. “Is there a reason for your impromptu devotion today?”
Yes, to cleanse me from the sin of lust. “Stubbed my toe.” I shrug, still not able to face him.
“Uh-huh.” He purses his lips, mirth dancing in his eyes. “I could always kiss it and make it better.”
Does he know he’s playing with fire? Surely not.
“You wouldn’t be saying that if you saw my toe-jam.” Deflect. Deflect. Deflect.
Remi dips his head close to my ear. His cool breath teases the soft skin under my lobe, and my knees knock together.
“I know what you’re doing,” he sing-songs.
Um, trying not to fuck you? “Yeah, Captain Obvious. I’m drinking coffee,” I mumble, hoping he leaves me here to sweat it out in privacy.
His warm, strong hand glides up my back and tickles my neck. Every hair on my body is alive. For all that lean muscle, he’s quite tender in his approach.
