Chapter 7 #3
He wets his lips before his eyes slowly move up to my face. “Uh, hey,” he says before looking away.
“How was the flight?” I walk up to him, letting my breasts skim across his arm before I take his bag from his hand to set it down.
He shivers from the touch and steps back. “It was, uh . . . it was good.”
“That’s great to hear.” I smooth my hand over his arm.
“Yeah,” he squeaks. “Great flight. Just great. All around great.” He backs up to the kitchen island chairs. “Really, uh, great.”
I smirk at him. “Sounds like it was great.” I wink and then add, “I’m guessing it’s better to fly home when you win than when you lose. I’m sure my dad is a nightmare to be with on a flight after a loss.”
His eyes fall to my chest again before he glances away. “He, uh, he doesn’t really say much for a win or a loss.”
I take a step closer. “And here I thought he raged. Well, anyway, welcome home. Let me show you what I’ve done.
” I take his hand, which he seems surprised by, and lead him to the dining room table, where his pencils are set up.
I pick up the vase and say, “What do you think? Perfectly sharpened, right?”
His eyes remain fixed on me for a moment as if he’s trying to study me, and then he looks back down at the pencils. “Wow, yeah, those look sharpened.” He pulls on the back of his neck, looking so uncomfortable. Just the way I want him.
“Sniff one.”
“Huh?” he asks.
I take his hand in mine again, force him to grab one of the pencils, and bring it up to his nose. “Sniff it like a flower. I know how much you love the smell.”
“Sure, yeah. Love a good sniff.” He leans close to the pencil and takes a short but quick sniff. His eyebrows shoot up as he says, “Woodsy. That’s nice.”
“That’s what I thought when I smelled it,” I say as I press my hand to his chest. His eyes fall to my hand and dart back up to me. “It was a pleasure sharpening those for you, Levi.”
His eyes widen slightly as he sets the pencil back in the vase. “Good to know.” He takes a step back from me and sticks his hands in his pockets, clearly trying to keep his distance.
Inwardly smiling, I turn away from him and bend at the waist, making sure to stick my ass out as I put the vase back down, giving him a great view. When I glance over my shoulder, I catch him checking me out. Yup, this is going to be so much fun.
“And then here are your Skittles,” I say, showing them off at the kitchen counter. “I hope I did it right. Was this what you were looking for?” I stand behind the containers, my breasts right at the same eye level. I watch his eyes scan the Skittles but mainly remain on my chest.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “Exactly what I was looking for.”
And thank God my nipples are still hard because what a show for him right now.
“Great.” I walk around the island and take his hand again. I pick up his bag and guide him toward his bedroom.
“Uh, what are you doing?” he asks.
“Unpacking your bag for you. And I think I should get that sweatsuit into the wash. I saved a light load so I could add your travel clothes into the washer and dryer when you got home. Oh, and I ordered some dinner for you. Steak and potatoes. Not sure if that’s your meal of choice, but figured I’d give it a try. Should be here soon.”
I set his bag down on the bed and sit him next to it. “Do you want to get undressed so I can take those clothes?”
“In front of you?” he asks on a gulp.
I chuckle. “You can if you want, but if you’re shy about your body, you can change in the bathroom and hand me your sweatsuit.”
“I’m not shy, just . . . don’t want to be creepy is all.”
“Remember what I said, Levi.” I place my hand on his shoulder and lean into him. Our noses are mere inches from touching. “This is not your typical boss/assistant relationship. We are going to get intimate with each other.”
“We . . . we are?” he asks as I grip the hem of his sweatshirt and pull it up and over his head. To my surprise, he’s not wearing a shirt under it, and dear God in heaven . . .
Oh fuck me, he’s so hot.
Ughhh, look at his chest.
It’s so thick, so large. So broad. He’s a big man but packed with muscle.
His pecs protrude off his chest, flat but muscular.
His shoulders and arms are shapely, carved and rock hard like made from stone.
And then he has a set of abs I really wasn’t expecting at all.
They’re not nearly as defined as what I’ve seen on some of his other teammates, but this man is also a bruiser.
He’s dense and built on protein and weight.
And of course because he’s a brawny, sexy man, there’s the lightest smattering of chest hair across his pecs that he keeps well trimmed. I’m far too tempted to drag my fingers over the stubble.
Looking away, I say, “Not that kind of intimate.” I try to laugh it off.
Maybe this erotic torture will be harder than I thought.
Especially with the ripped body this man’s working with.
“Do you need me to take off your sweats too, or can you handle that? I can get on my knees and remove them for you.”
“No,” he says loudly. “I can, uh, I can do that.” But he doesn’t move.
“Well, are you going to remove them?”
“Yup.” He slowly nods but still doesn’t move.
“Okay, but do you realize you say you’re going to remove them, yet you haven’t removed them?”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So see where I’m confused. Because if you need help, I have no problem taking your clothes off for you. I can slip my hands right under the waistline and?—”
“I got it,” he says quickly and then stands from the bed and pushes his sweats down, leaving him in his black boxer briefs.
He holds the sweats out to me, but my eyes land on the bulge between his legs, the very large bulge.
He’s half hard. He has to be.
If he’s not, then sleeping with him is going to be a no, thank you. If that’s flaccid Posey penis, then it’s not fitting in me, that’s for damn sure.
“I’m, uh . . . I’m sorry about . . .” He gestures toward his crotch.
“Why apologize?” I say with another wink.
“It’s hot.” And as I turn away from him with sweats in hand, my legs quiver with yearning.
I toss the sweats in the closet where the washer and dryer are and then open his bag to pull out his dirty laundry.
“Did you happen to use any of the condoms I packed you?” I ask as he stands next to me.
From the corner of my eye, I catch just how muscular his thighs are, and for some reason, it’s a huge turn-on for me.
Like stick a watermelon between those thighs, and he’s cracking it open on one pulse.
“Uh, no,” he says.
“Oh, that’s sad. Couldn’t find a willing participant?” I ask.
“Didn’t look for one.”
“No?” I reply as I gather his dirty laundry and take it to the closet. “Why not?”
“Distracted,” he says from his bedroom, still just standing there. “Uh, you know, I think I might take a shower.”
“Good idea, get that plane off you.”
“Yeah, sure.”
I hear him move into the bathroom and click the door shut. I shove the laundry in the washer and then grab my phone.
Wylie: He’s frazzled, Sandie. He has stared at my breasts at least a half dozen times since he’s come home.
Luckily, Sandie is quick to text me back.
Sandie: Excellent. *Insert evil laugh* What’s he doing now?
Wylie: Taking a shower.
Sandie: Seems to me like you need to walk in there and ask him a question.
Wylie: OMG, should I?
Sandie: If we’re conducting erotic torture, then yes, you need to walk in there while he’s soaping up.
Wylie: And this is why we’re friends. I’ll report back.
I pocket my phone, and with some mustered-up courage, I open the bathroom door.
“Uh, hello?” he asks.
“Hey, just me,” I say casually, helping myself in.
“Can I help you?” he asks, his back toward me. The shower is foggy so I can’t see anything other than his silhouette. Shame. I was hoping to see a little ass at least.
“Just came in to grab your underwear. I assume you want this washed as well.”
“Sure,” he says in a tense voice.
“Oh, and I checked on the food. Should be here in the next twenty minutes.”
“Yup, that’s great.”
“I can set it up on your favored placemat if you want. Dining room or kitchen island?”
“Kitchen island is fine,” he answers, not moving.
“Sounds good. Can I get you anything else?”
“Just some privacy,” he says through clenched teeth.
“Oh.” I laugh. “Sorry about that.” I grab his underwear and head toward the door. “Enjoy your shower.”
And then I leave, smiling brightly to myself. Yup, this is going to be a lot of fun.
“Ooo, you smell amazing,” I say as I walk by a freshly showered Levi, who is now wearing a pair of shorts and a simple heather gray T-shirt with an Agitators logo on the front.
The sleeves strain around his biceps and chest while the torso clings to his muscled body.
I lean into him. “Is that your soap or cologne?”
He clears his throat as he takes a seat at the island. “Soap.”
“Wow. It’s amazing,” I say as I let my hand drag over the contours of his back before I move to the fridge to grab him a drink. “Would you like a soda?”
He’s silent for a second, and when I look over my shoulder, his eyes revert from my ass to me. “You, uh, you don’t have to serve me, Wylie.”
“Oh, I don’t mind. I’ll grab you a Diet Coke.
” I grab one for myself as well and take a seat next to him at the island, but I angle my body to face him and rest my feet on the rung of his chair.
“Here you go.” I slide the soda over to him, not really giving him any space from me.
“Hope you don’t mind if I eat here with you.
I hate when my little bedroom smells like food.
Stinks up my clothes. Also, we can catch up. ”
“Sure, yeah, you can eat here.”
“Great.” I pull the food out of the paper bag and say, “Hope you don’t mind that I got myself a salad. I can pay you back later. Just thought it would be easier.”
“You don’t have to pay me back, Wylie.”