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“Well, I’m more in tune with my favorite color than you are then. Walls, clothes. Obviously, when I was a kid the personal shopper dressed me and my brothers, so tan had to be her favorite, too.”
“Obviously,” I countered.
“When I got old enough to shop for myself, I hired my own personal shopper because I had no clue what I was doing. Now my clothes magically appear in my closet clean, pressed, and ready to wear.”
“Wow, a clothing fairy.”
I thought of how I’d watched him in the mornings, naked in his house.
Still foreplay.
“My mother chose my clothes growing up. A few things now, too. Those cardigans in the cam room were thanks to her.” I thought of the velvet dress for the holiday party and the foreplay was over. “Except for the Steaming Hotties t-shirts. The torn jeans. Oh, and the dangly earrings I love so much. Those are definitely not her doing. The other night, she brought over a dress for me to wear to their annual holiday party. It’s a Hunter thing.” It usually explained everything and I didn’t have to say more.
“As in the Hunters of Hunter Valley.”
“Right.”
“If the dress she bought for you is a problem, know that I really like you naked,” he said, giving my butt a firm squeeze.
“I like you naked, too.” And up close. It wassomuch better up close.
39
SILAS
Theo texted.
Heard you’re stuck at the inn with Eve.
My brothers were the biggest fucking gossips.
Worried about me?
No. And I’m no longer worried about your dick or your carpal tunnel.
Fucker.
40
SILAS
I leaned against the wall,taking in Eve, in just my shirt, fixing us coffee. Decaf this time because we’d gone through a lot of fucking coffee. I’d mastered the simple coffee maker in the cafe area. Add water, add grounds to a filter, turn on. The fancy espresso machine was another story.
Watching her was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, and I seemed to be doing it a lot. Just watching her.
Eve could make coffee in a man’s shirt and kill it camming. The virgin librarian version of her would have serious competition.
To me, her efficient and skilled actions were porn. Especially in my shirt.
But no more camming. This time, she was here, in front of me. Where she belonged. Where I could see her. Touch her. Make her mine.
“Take off the shirt,” I said.
She spun on her bare feet, startled. The machine hissed behind her. Her eyes raked over me in my jeans. On, but not buttoned. Nothing else. “What?”
“Make me coffee. Bare.”
She softened and responded to my deep command. Her lids lowered, cheeks flushed. And she started to squirm, just like she did in the cam room when she was turned on. “Silas.”
