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In fact, he barely looked at me in my diapee last night. I think it’s pretty clear he’s not attracted to me. It’s much better if he’s not. This thing is complicated enough as it is.
I stand up and hobble over to the workbench. There’s a red pocket knife lying among the tools. I pick it up and tuck it into my bra. I’m going to keep this thing on me at all times now. Pays to be prepared.
Unfortunately, all my clothes are in the trunk of my car, so I’m going to have to find Finn dressed like this, still in my freaking underwear.
Oh well. He saw me like this last night. He can stand to see me again.
To think I had to go ask him for a plastic bag to throw away my diaper when I was showering. I needn’t have bothered. He found out in the end.
I limp slowly into the kitchen, but Finn is nowhere to be seen. The kitchen clock reads eleven o’clock. Oh no! Talk about sleeping in. There’s a pan of scrambled eggs sitting on the stove. They look a little cold and congealed by now, but I don’t care. I’m so freaking hungry I could eat a horse.
I go over to the sink and fill a glass with water, then raise the glass to my lips. That’s when I hear a thud outside, and I turn to look out of the window.
Oh. My. Goodness.
Finn is out there, chopping wood. He’s completely shirtless, and I can see every taut muscle in his back as he bends over the stump, bringing down the ax.
Holy hell.
This guy is ripped. With a capital ‘R’. I don’t even need to see his abs to know that. His back is the most muscular I’ve ever seen. And it’s covered in the most incredible tattoos.
It’s hard to make out exactly what that tattoos are of from a distance. There’s a tiger, a dragon, possibly a Japanese koi fish… but the overall effect of them is stunning. They wind around his body like tendrils, exploring and caressing his godly crevices.
I've never really thought about the attraction of tattoos before now. But they cling to this Man-Beast’s body in all the right places, inviting my eyes to keep sliding over the surface of his flesh. Over and over again.
He puts down the ax and stands straight, then runs his fingers through his hair. He tilts his head to the sky, then turns toward the cabin. I duck out the way a little, but it’s okay. He’s lookingbeyondthe cabin, not at me. That means I can keep standing here, and take in a view of his torso from the front.
And what a view it is.
Chiseled, beautiful abs — a six pack, no less. And firm pecs too. It’s like every bit of him is designed to make me stare. I can’t get over how taut his muscles are — like steel under his skin. I just want to run my hands over his contours, to grab onto him and squeeze every lump and bump.
Something just beyond him catches my eye. It’s my car. He’s already been out and brought it back! Thank goodness for that. He hasn’t bothered putting it underneath the tarpaulin this time. I guess now that Chris knows where we are, what’s the point? Doesn’t seem to be bothering the wildlife around here, either. In fact, there’s a rock pigeon perched on top of it right now.
When I look back at where Finn was standing, he’s gone.
The front door opens and the shirtless wonder enters.
‘Morning,’ he says.
There are sweat droplets all over him.
‘Hey,’ I say.
Play it cool, dummy.
I’d love to run my tongue over each and every one of those droplets, tasting his salty skin.
I said cool!
‘I, uh, brought your baggage in from the trunk of your car. Left it just outside your door.’ His eyes trail up the length of me, feet to neck, lingering for a moment at my crotch. I’d almost forgotten. I’m still in my bra and diaper.
‘Oh my goodness, I must have missed it,’ I say. ‘I’ll go throw something on and then have some breakfast. I’m famished.’
‘I’m famished too. How about you get dressedafterwe eat?’
Woah. Is he really suggesting we sit across the counter from each other, one of us in a bra, the other with nothing on the top half at all? I think he definitelyissuggesting that. And I’m game.
‘Sure,’ I say, letting my eyes rest on his torso for a few moments.
