13 Cutter #2
“Whose fault is that?” I snap.
“You ran into me in the hall tonight.” He turns to me, a devious glint in his eyes. “And you were hard. What had you been up to, Mr. Head of Security?”
“The only reason you knew I was hard is because you grabbed me, which is highly inappropriate.”
He chuckles. “Baby, I have eyes. I saw that bulge in your pants.”
I realize I’m playing right into his hands with this conversation, but something about him just drives me to want to commit murder. “Maybe you shouldn’t be looking at another man’s pants.”
“That’s never going to happen.” He drops his voice to a cock-teasing purr. “Not with you.”
Fuck.
“Why?” Damn it, I want to know. “Why this sudden fixation on me?”
“Who says it’s sudden?” he asks impishly.
I suck in a deep breath and fight for control. If we weren’t in a moving car…
I’m so lost in my own head I don’t realize we’ve slowed down and are pulling into the driveway of a dark, low-slung house. A light comes on and I see it’s a garage door raising.
“What the fuck? Where are we?” We drive inside what has to be the cleanest garage I’ve ever seen. “Aubie, seriously, why are we here?” I don’t want to say I’m panicking, but I want nothing to do with this situation.
He shuts off the engine and turns to me with a grin. “You’re wet and my place was closer. Let’s get you warmed up.”
He opens the door and gets out of the car. This is not happening. I sit back with my arms folded, refusing to move until I realize I’m acting like a child. Still, I’m not going to let him manipulate me.
He crosses to a doorway before turning back to me. “You can sit there freezing or you can come inside and let me make you something hot to drink while we dry your clothes.”
Dry my clothes? I grab the door handle and wrench it open, climbing out of the car and stomping over to him. “If you think I’m taking off my clothes in here, you’re crazy.”
He meets my eyes for a moment then bursts out laughing. “You should see your face.” When he doesn’t get a smile out of me, he sighs. “Relax. I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”
Anything I don’t want him to? Try not being here. I didn’t ask for any of this. “I hate this.”
“I know, baby.”
He turns and opens the door, stepping inside.
After a moment’s hesitation, I follow him into what looks like a mudroom.
Aubie slips off his shoes and takes off his coat and hangs it on a wall hook, then cocks his head at me.
“I’ve got wood floors in there. Your shoes are wet.
” I risk looking like a dick if I don’t take off my boots.
“You can hang your coat up to dry,” he calls as he continues into the house.
After ditching my coat and boots, I step into something I never thought I’d see. So this is Aubie Gauthier’s world.
We’re standing in the kitchen. Naturally it’s high-end–ebony cabinets, marble countertops, an island you could land a plane on. It’s bigger than my whole kitchen.
A livingroom opens past it, dominated by a black marble fireplace that stretches all the way to the vaulted ceiling.
An overstuffed olive green suede sectional centers the room and a massive abstract painting nearly fills one wall.
I don’t know much about art, but it’s obviously not something you’d pick up at IKEA.
“Cocoa or tea?” he asks as he moves around the kitchen.
“Huh? Oh, cocoa, I guess.”
Why am I here? And what is this domestic thing he’s doing?
“Good choice.” He starts pulling things out of the cabinets; a pan, two mugs, a tin of cocoa. He grabs a carton of milk from the refrigerator and glances over at me. “Hope cow’s milk is okay. I’m not much of a milk snob.”
“That’s fine.”
“Bathroom’s around the corner. You can slip off those wet pants and change into a pair of sweats. There’s a couple of sizes in the closet in there.”
I smirk at him. “Left from past sleepovers?”
“I’m actually a good host. I do more than supply spare toothbrushes and toiletries.”
I try not to think about how many people have slept over here while reminding myself not to let down my guard. “So this is your way of getting me out of my pants?”
He quirks a brow at me. “I’m just offering to dry your clothes. You can read whatever you want into that. Now go change.”
I know he’s up to something, but I’m kind of stuck. At least until I can get an Uber here. I find the bathroom and open the closet. Yep, there are spare sweats and t-shirts on the shelves, even a basket of socks on the floor. Who is this guy?
I find a pair of pants that fit me and pull off my wet garments, retrieving my wallet, keys and phone.
My shirt is dry so I leave it on. Since there’s no way I’m wearing someone else’s underwear–not that there’s any available–it looks like I’m going commando.
That thought almost makes me reconsider this whole situation.
Aubie will know I’m not wearing underwear. A glance down at the clingy sweats makes it painfully obvious.
“Shit,” I hiss under my breath. “Think about something else.”
“Everything all right in there?” Aubie calls from the kitchen, and for some reason I get a vision of him stirring a pan of cocoa in nothing but an apron.
Now my dick really is getting hard.
Fuck.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I manage to croak.
I move to the sink and turn on the cold water, sticking my hand under it to get it chilled.
It doesn’t take long since the water this time of year is freezing and I was already cold.
I dry off on the hand towel then reach into my pants and grab my cock, sucking in a shocked breath.
Fuck, that’s cold. Maybe this will work.
Think about doing your taxes.
I don’t know if it’s the subject matter or my icy hand, but things start to soften up enough for me to leave the room without giving Aubie any ideas. I grab my wet clothes and peek around the corner to the kitchen.
“Where’s your dryer?”
He turns to me, fully clothed. No apron. I don’t know if I’m disappointed or relieved.
“Laundry room is across the hall from the bathroom. Just toss them in the dryer. I need to put my pants in there as soon as I can get out of them.”
I meet his eyes and watch the humor there turn to heat. Nope.
I turn away and head back down the hall to find the laundry room. When I get back to the kitchen, Aubie is pouring steaming cocoa into the mugs. He adds a dollop of whipped cream to each then sets one mug in front of me and grabs his own, leaning on the counter to take a sip.
His eyes flutter closed. “Mmm. That hits the spot.”
I reach for the other mug and wrap my cold hand around it, savoring the warmth. When I don’t drink, he quirks a brow at me.
“I promise I didn’t poison you.”
“It’s not that.” I flex my fingers. “My hands are cold.” He doesn’t need to know why.
He waggles his brows. “I know what could warm them up.”
“Aubie,” I warn.
“Just saying.” He leans across the island until his face is inches from mine. “Don’t tell me you’re not thinking about it, lover.”
His eyes bore into mine and I know he’s seen the truth there when a slow smile creeps across his face. He straightens and raises his mug to his lips. “Drink your cocoa. I like it when you’re warm.”
Fuck this guy. I pick up the mug and suck in a gulp that burns the roof of my mouth. “Damn it.”
He smirks. “Do I need to show you how to drink a hot beverage?”
“I don’t need you to show me anything.”
Do I?
The truth is, I’m completely out of my element. What is it about this guy that throws me off my game so bad? I’m like a tongue-tied teenager who can’t get out of my own way.
“So what do I need to know about Cutter Knight?” he asks.
“You don’t need to know anything.”
He sets his mug down. “I’m just being friendly. We’ve got some time to kill until your clothes are dry, unless you want me to bring them to you at work.”
Oh fuck no. “They’re not getting dry until you start the dryer,” I snap.
He shrugs and reaches down to unzip his pants.
“What are you doing?” I demand.
“I can’t start the dryer until my pants are in there, too.”
“So go in the bathroom and change like I did.”
“Why?” He leans closer and runs his tongue slowly over his lips, his eyes teasing. “It’s not like you haven’t watched me get undressed before.” His eyes openly rove over my body, down to my crotch. I can feel my dick immediately respond. “As I recall, you enjoyed it.”
I swallow and clear my throat, my voice a plea. “Go in the bathroom.”
He hesitates for a minute, then shakes his head and slides his hands down his chest suggestively.
“I don’t think so.” He finishes unzipping the pants, holding my eyes with his.
“You know, I usually walk around my house naked.” His thumbs hook under the waistband and slowly start to push down, exposing his slender torso.
A sliver of the red dragon tattoo on his hip.
The whisper of a sheer purple thong.
Look away.
His eyes dare me to keep looking. To watch him shimmy out of the skintight jeans, his body lean and sinuous. As if the dragon on his side is shedding its skin.
I should leave. I should grab my phone and order a rideshare. Get out of here before he has a chance to…
To what? What is he going to do?
“You’ll eventually come crawling to me.”
I have enough self-control to resist this weird hold he has over me. I just have to get out of here. I back up and glance behind me toward the door.
“I think I should go.”
He takes a step closer.
“Is that what you really want?” He grabs the hem of his shirt and drags it over his head, dropping it on the floor. He’s only wearing the thong now.
Why does he look good enough to eat?
Another step closer.
“Is this what you want?” he purrs.
“Aubie, I…”
“What?” he whispers, his voice a silken promise. “Tell me exactly what you want, Cutter.”
Fuuuuck.
He slips one finger into the strap of his thong and pulls it away from his hip. “You want this?”
Another step closer, and now we’re inches apart.
He reaches out and closes his hand around mine, pulling it to him. Pressing it against his stiff cock while he undulates his hips.
“Feel what you’re doing to me?”