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Oh, Jesus. No straight man should be blessed with an ass like that. It would be a cosmic injustice. I’m exclusively a bottom and even I want to sink my teeth into that thing. I wonder if he likes rim jobs. I’d love to grip his cheeks in my hands while I tongue?—
Stop it! I scream internally, feeling a potent arousal pool in my gut.
God, I’m really never like this. I haven’t felt this drawn to someone in… ever. I usually take weeks if not months before I want to bring someone to bed. But I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t hook up with this man right here, right now.
Following him to the kitchen, I stand on the other side of the counter, trying not to invade his space.
“Cat toys, huh?” he asks, pulling out a small bright light to get a good look at the drain. A freaking flashlight! Why didn’t I think of that?
“Yes, unfortunately,” I say, wincing. “I think Bush is protesting the new apartment. He had more places to hide things at our old place.”
“Yeah?” he inquires, begging to pull out the top few jingly toys with long and skinny pliers. “Why’d you move?”
“Roommate from hell,” I answer honestly. “And I can afford this place now.”
“Get a new job?”
“Sort of,” I say carefully. “I do internet stuff.”
He pauses, flicking his eyes up at me. They’re the most gorgeous chocolate brown. “Like those influencer types?”
Your age is showing, mister. Why do I find that so sexy?
I smother a chuckle. “Yeah, kind of like that. I do something called ASMR. It’s like a virtual spa for your brain. Only if you like it though, plenty of people are not fans.”
“Huh,” he says without an air of judgment. “Interesting.”
“Is this what you do?” I ask stupidly. “I mean, like full-time?”
Thankfully, he takes the question without offense, lightly chuckling. “I’m just helping my brother out while he looks for a new maintenance staff. I own a vehicle repair business a few miles away.”
“You fix cars?” I ask, fascinated.
Anthony nods easily. “Do you like cars?” he asks in return.
“I don’t even have a license,” I admit. “I’m a passenger princess.”
His lips twist in amusement.
If I could smack my face, I would. I need to stop talking before I humiliate myself even more. Unfortunately, I can’t shut the fuck up even when I know I should.
“Did you say your brother?” I ask. “You’re related to my landlord?”
“He owns the building, yes,” he says, shrugging. “Our parents died when we were young, but our uncle took us in. He was a businessman and we took after him in that respect, I guess.”
“I’m sorry, my parents are dead too,” I blurt.
Anthony and I share a sympathetic look.
“I’m sorry too,” he says lightly. He’s working on pulling out the toys so slowly that I can’t tell if he’s struggling or if he’s actually enjoying talking to me.
“It’s okay,” I murmur. “My grandma raised me and she was great.”
“Was?” he inquires.
“She died last year,” I share easily. “She was ninety and it was time. She passed painlessly.”
He nods, understanding. “No siblings?”
