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“Oh. Fuck, sorry.” I stepped back, being very careful not to turn at all so he wouldn’t catch sight of the words printed across my ass.
“Thanks.” He gave me a tiny smile as he walked into the apartment, looking around with interest. Did I still have time to go and lean casually against the ironing board? Would it actually make me look cool, or like more of a total dork?
“Your place is nice,” Holt said politely as he shrugged off his coat. My belly clenched as I took in his lithe body through the tight T-shirt and jeans. Oh god, he was so hot it wasn’t fair.
“It’s not, but thanks.” My apartment sucked. It was as boring as the rest of my life. I’d never expected to stay here this long—it was supposed to be a stopgap after moving out of the home Marcus and I had shared—but like everything else, I’d just let myself get stuck here.
“It is,” Holt protested, then looked around again, trying to find something to compliment. Eventually he settled on the mass-produced print of a sunflower field that I’d bought from a thrift store when the sight of the bare walls had started to depress even me. It was still in the old frame it’d come with. “I like the picture. Sunflowers are nice. Uh… whimsical.”
Sunflowers were nice, which was why I’d bought it, but I’d still chosen the most boring photo of sunflowers imaginable. As if the photographer had just given up and snapped the picture while already walking away.
“So…” Holt was looking at me, his dark brows drawn. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m great,” I said quickly. Right now, I was mainly worried about him seeing the back of my pants.
“Taylor…”
“Really, I’m totally fine.” I held up the cupholder and paper bag. “Um, shall we eat?”
He swallowed and nodded, rounding the couch to sit down. “Seb is waiting in the car, so I can’t stay too long.”
“Oh.” Disappointment flowed through me. “Okay.”
Before sitting down, Holt looked at me with a nervous expression. “Do you mind if I…”
It took me a few moments to work out what he meant. Then it hit me. “Oh. Of course. I mean, no, of course I don’t mind.”
The pale hue of his skin was replaced by grey, like a drop of ink spreading in water. Between blinks, his irises turned hot pink, pupils becoming wobbly. The rounded tips of his ears lengthened and grew pointed. His cheekbones sharpened, features overall growing just a little less human.
It almost gave me a boner.
He sighed and flopped down onto the couch, seeming instantly more at ease. I shuffled over and awkwardly sat while trying to keep my butt hidden.
“I like your coat,” I offered shyly, nodding at it draped over the back of the couch. He smiled at me.
“Thanks.” Then his eyes trailed down my front, and his voice was huskier when he added, “I like your pants. I can see your dickprint.”
As my face flamed pink and my cock twitched in my sweats, he cringed and looked away. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be… You’re probably still thinking through everything.”
“No,” I blurted, tongue swiping over my lips. “I’m… I’ve thought it all through. I’m okay. Honestly, Holt. I’m not freaking out. And…” I gulped, feeling like a total vixen for what I was about to say. “I’m… I’m not wearing any underwear.”
Chapter Eighteen
Copper Balls
Holt’s eyes briefly closed as he took that in. When he opened them again, they were simmering with lust.
“You’re such a cocktease,” he rasped in a low voice. “I’m trying to be all noble or whatever, and you’re just sitting there in old sweats and a faded T-shirt with no underwear on.” He leaned closer on the couch, gaze trailing down my body before he nodded at the ironing board behind us and purred, “Were you ironing all your boxers last night, Taylor?”
“Y-yes.” I gulped, still clutching the cupholder and paper bag.
“God, that’s so hot.” Holt took them both from my hands and set them on the coffee table, then crawled closer, somehow still looking hot despite pausing to frown and tug at his ultra-tight pants.
Placing his hand on the centre of my chest, he gently pushed me back until he was leaning over me on the couch.
“Did you make yourself come just before I got here?” he murmured, sliding his hand down to slip it under my T-shirt and smooth it over my belly. “You’ve got that specific hint of satiation that comes from a man who’s just had an orgasm.”
I stared up at him wide-eyed, and found myself nodding as I wet my lips. “Y-yeah, I did.”
