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Then, “My underwear.”
“Boxers, briefs, or boxer briefs?”
Silence, hot and terse, and I want to melt into the hardwood floor right then and there. I actually said that out loud.
Out.Loud.
And because I am a glutton for punishment, my stare can’t stay away from those pretty, pretty hazel eyes.
I get lost in them for several tense moments.
Then he flicks his brows up again, this time as if we’re playing a game of Chicken.
And maybe we are.
“Boxer briefs,” he says, tone a challenge.
Sweet baby Jesus. My favorite.
I can’t stop my gaze from flicking down, from wondering exactly what that ass would look like clad in tight gray fabric. It would definitely put gray sweatpants to shame.
Focus.
On his ass? Or his penis lovingly cupped in skintight cotton?
“Woof!” Steve barks, focusing for me.
Because I know the tone of that bark.
It’s theI’m staying under this bed until I’m good and ready to come outbark.
I bite back a wince and manage to climb to my feet. “It would probably be best if we let him come out on his own,” I say. “Steve has a bit of…an underwear fetish.”
“Don’t we all,” Lake says dryly, walking by me like he hadn’t just made a joke.
He disappears behind another door, the wooden panel shutting with a decisiveclick.
I sigh, peek back beneath the bed. “Steve, baby. Come out with the mean man’s underwear.”
“Woof!”
Lake is right.
My dogisan asshole.
Eight
Lake
I comeout of the closet, shirt on and half expecting her to be stripped down naked and lying in my bed, legs spread, breasts perky and on display like an offering to the sex gods.
Or maybe that’s just what I’m hoping for.
But there’s no sign of her.
The dog, on the other hand…
The tiny demon growls when I bend and look under the bed, still going to town on my underwear.
