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Like exotic fruits. Like mangos and lychee and spice.
He’s fucking foreign and delightful at the same time.
Finally, he gets the fabric free from the dog, grumbling at him with a mock frown. I imagine him lecturing the pup about quality fabric and how expensive it is, but the dog doesn’t give a shit. He just looks up at him like he wants to play again.
Damon bends down and seems to be trying to lecture him eye to eye. The dog only licks his face and Damon gasps, leaning back and scrubbing at his cheeks.
Damn, when has a guy ever been cute?
Right now.Nowis when a guy has been cute.
Shit.
He notices me watching and gives me a glower, his hand going to his hip as he huffs and walks over to me, his saunter as graceful as he is. I can’t help but eye those legs as they move. They’re long and lean and look smooth too. For fuck’s sake. Does he not have hair on his body?
“Little fucker nearly tore my masterpiece to shreds,” Damon says, not realizing where my mind has gone.
I can’t fight the smile on my face as I climb out from under the car and grab a rag to try to wipe my greasy hands. “I saw.”
“And yet, you did nothing.” He teases, “What kind of knight in shining armor are you?”
I chuckle at that, shaking my head. “Definitely not a knight.”
“I don’t know about that,” he says, sizing me up. “You would look good in a suit of armor.”
I smile at that and then gesture to his hand. “What was it that Peanut got?”
“A ridiculous name, right? That dog is not as big as a peanut nor is he brown. And don’t get me started on his mouth. It’s like a Leviathan. He just opens it and gobbles things to pieces.”
I chuckle as he sighs. “Ugh, he got one of my scarves I crocheted. I think it’s ruined.”
I pull it from his hands and glance at it, seeing the slobber and a slight tear in the yarn.
“Can you fix it?”
He sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just wanted to relax after my recording, but then he managed to open the door and stole it right from my bed. He even smiled at me while he did it.”
My mind shifts gears, and I imagine Damon on his bed, his body writhing as he teases his fans. I haven’t watched him, of course. I mean…not that I ever would, but it would be easy enough to find. I wonder what he does on camera—what he looks like getting fucked—before shutting that thought down. No. No way in hell. I’m not gay. My mind will not be conjuring up visions of Damon. In any capacity.
My dick twitches.
Boogers, I think. Think of boogers.
“Anyways,” Damon says and then arches an eyebrow. “Whatcha doin’?”
I shrug and then gesture to my car. “Was working on the engine.”
That’s a lie. Iwasworking on the engine and then I ended up staring at Damon when he came outside. He’s the distraction I don’t need in my life right now.
“Can you show me?”
It’s a bad idea, considering he’s wearing these ridiculously short shorts and a see-through green top. But I gesture for him to follow me to my garage. He props himself on the edge of the hood, like it’s no big deal. My eyes slip to his hairless thighs before they drop to my tools. The dogs, of course, follow him over as well, loping around my property and peeing on everything they can.
My eyes move away from the mutts as I start the slow explanation of what I’m doing, surely boring him in the process, but he seems interested in what I’m saying. So I keep going, stopping every once in a while to shout at the dogs when they’re doing something they shouldn’t. My words move fluidly, almost like I’m teaching a class—a class of one incredibly alluring guy with see-through clothes.
When I’m done, stopping to draw a breath, Damon claps his hands together slowly.
“You are a teacher at heart, Tomas.”
