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I may be a “manwhore,” as Trix so lovingly pointed out this afternoon, but I have my convictions. I’m not—and never have been—a cheater.
“Left her in a real bad spot, seeing as how they lived together. And she worked in his gallery. Talk about awkward. So she packed up all her shit and moved back home.”
“I didn’t realize.”
“Yeah, she probably would kill me if she knew I spilled her personal situation. If you see her, don’t tell her I told you all that.”
“Right, okay.”
Now would be the perfect time to tell my best friend I’m working with his sister—and sharing an apartment, purely for economic reasons—but I say nothing.
His pocket buzzes and he pulls out his cell, reads the screen.
“Shit. I forgot my youngest has T-ball practice tonight. I gotta jet. But let’s grab beers soon!” Danny shoots me a wave, already jogging toward the door to avoid the wrath of Ana.
I huff out the breath I’d been holding as I watch him exit the building.
Why didn’t I mention something about Trix just then?Not the details, obviously. But he’s going to figure out we’re living in the same apartment eventually. I had the perfect intro and I let it slide right on by me like the river at high tide.
I scrub a hand over the back of my neck. My life got a lot more complicated in the last twenty-four hours. The surprising part is I’m not mad about it—and that could end up being a real issue.
“Hi, honey, I’m home!” I call out, unlocking the door and pushing inside the apartment.
The first thing that hits me is the smell—and it’s freaking delicious. The scent of roasted garlic and basil swirl through the air, tempting me, and my mouth waters. Soft music plays through the Alexa speaker, some soothing jazz mix, and there’s Trix, wearing a cute ruffled apron over her T-shirt and tiny denim shorts.
I admire the view for a second, the round globes of her juicy ass practically peeking out at me. Barefoot, she stands at the stove stirring a big pot, and she’s as edible as whatever she’s cooking right now.
Stop it, Wild. That’s your best friend’s baby sister. You cannot go there.
“Hey.” Trix glances over at me, her dark hair swishing over her shoulder. “I’m so busy I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I just got home. What are you making?” I move to the stove, stepping in closer to her and peering into the pot.
“Spaghetti with homemade sauce. My grandma’s recipe.”
“It smells delicious.” I take another big sniff, her citrusy body wash mixing with the aromatic Italian seasonings.
Great.Now I’m hungry and horny, and Trix is definitelynoton the menu. Tonight or ever.
“Why don’t you go shower up? Dinner will be ready by the time you’re out.” She scrunches her nose up at me, acting like I smell. Which, to be honest, I probably do after all-day demo followed by the gym sesh.
“You don’t need any help here?”
“You can be on clean up duty.” She shoots me a wide smile, all dazzling white teeth, but I can’t argue with her logic.
“Fine. I suppose that’s fair. Thanks.” I hustle to the shower, my stomach grumbling and my dick rock-hard.
This whole living-with-Trix thing is a lot more difficult than anticipated. I have five brothers and never cohabited with a girlfriend in my entire life. Sure, I had one or two women stay the night, but typically I prefer to go to their place and sneak out before dawn. Quicker and easier that way. No divvying up household tasks, no sharing a sink. Tidier all the way around.
I turn on the shower and strip down, eager to stand under the hot spray and cleanse myself of my dirty thoughts. Last thing I want to do is sit through an entire dinner with Trix trying to make friendly conversation with a raging boner.
Squeezing blue shower gel into my hand, I scrub at my skin, wiping away all the dust, sweat, and grime of the day. I hit my arms, torso, legs. My dick dances around, bobbing and demanding attention.
Fine.Just a quick fist, but not to fruition.
I squirt more gel onto my palm, slide my hand up and down the thick shaft.
Feels so fucking good.
