“T,” he stated.
He went a bit lower, just under my collarbones.
“A,” I said.
Jun dragged his finger down and across to my nipple, where it bumped a barbell piercing. His mouth did that lopsided smile when I let out a sudden breath. “N,” he said as he drew the letter.
I swallowed.
Jun slowly brought his hand down to the middle of my stomach and pressed another shape against my body.
“A,” I whispered.
Jun smiled a bit more boldly. He slid his index finger down to my belly, then paused at another piercing. “K,” he said as he gave the ring a little nudge, and what was never an erotic piercing for me suddenly made my entire body ache. Jun raised his eyes, stared hard at me, and brought his finger down against my straining cock, drawing a shape against it.
“Ahh,” I groaned, tilting my head back against the door.
Jun removed his hand.
“Going to spell and run?” I mumbled. I started to move from the door and staggered.
Jun grabbed me. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” I insisted, moving out of his hold.
“There’s no reason to rush,” Jun confirmed.
“Except that I’ve got a chub, which, when you’re wearing skinny jeans….” I straightened my posture and pointed to the affliction I was suffering from.
Jun was amused. That bastard. He unzipped the front of his suitcase and removed a pair of black house slippers. He toed off his expensive-looking shoes, briefly flashed his bright, rainbow-striped socks, and put the slippers on.
I glanced at my torn, scuffed-up Chucks. I walked a narrow line of caring very much about my looks—let’s admit it, my hair, piercings, and back tattoo make me look fierce—while also appearing like I’ve forgotten how to adult, considering my questionable wardrobe. Cheap, teenage-style clothes mostly, and I wouldn’t be surprised if these Cons were from 1992.
“What’s with the socks?” I asked.
“My sister buys me a pair of silly socks every year. I have a lot.”
“Aww,” I cooed. “That’s cute.”
Jun cleared his throat.
I walked into the living room. “So. Downstairs.”
The cottage was probably bigger than what I needed, considering I lived by myself, but it was really quite gorgeous and I was used to rent rates that bleed you, coming from New York, so I kept it. Each room was painted in bright, beachy colors seen all over the island—blues, greens, and pinks, with a few eclectic pieces of local art on the walls. The living room had the basic essentials—television, couch, and a bookshelf full of romance novels and cookbooks.
I know, right? And my appointment book is suddenlyalways fullwhenever I find a romance novel about a chef and a cop.
I walked to the open doorway of the kitchen and flipped on the light for Jun to see. Nothing super impressive, but my old place in Brooklyn had exactly half a counter, and here I had several counter spacesanda dishwasher.
“There’s a laundry room by the back door,” I began before leading Jun to a spiral staircase. “My bed and bathroom are in the loft. You can bring your suitcase if you want.”
I went up ahead of him to make sure, in my rush to get to work earlier than usual that morning, I hadn’t left dirty socks or briefs lying around. Not like Jun hadn’t seen another man’s underwear in his lifetime; he was forty-one and not a virgin. But still. I wanted to go a full twenty-four hours before he saw what a shitty housekeeper I was.
Lo and behold, there was a pair lying on the floor, which I quickly tossed in the hamper. There were also several shirts left on the bedspread from when I was trying to pick out what would make me look the cutest, because naturally I’d wanted to impress Jun that morning. Then, of course, I realized I’d spent way too long hemming and hawing, was late, and left wearing anX-Files-themed shirt. Monster of the week wasn’t the look I had been going for, but c’est la vie.
I turned as Jun reached the top. “Not bad, right?”
“Not at all.” He pushed his suitcase to the banister that overlooked the ground floor.
