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Shoot me now. “And how can I prove that?”
He shoves his fingers through his hair. “I have no fucking idea.”
“Fine! Can you at least look away?”
“Why?” he asks, then finally looks around.
Sex toys are everywhere. I must have knocked them all off the shampoo shelf while I was flailing.
“Oh,” he says, eyes widening. “You were—”
“Sailing the catamaran.” My cheeks burn impossibly hotter. “Fanning the fur. Womansplaining myself.”
He bends down and grabs the dildo I never got a chance to use. “How did this stuff get in here?”
I dart a glance at the still-open toilet tank, and he follows my gaze.
“Seriously?”
I blush harder.
He looks at me, then at the toys, then back at me with a frown. “Why the stealth? I thought you blogged about this stuff. You could just keep it all in your nightstand.”
I roll my eyes so hard my eyeballs hurt. “Yeah. Sure. Should I also use them while you’re next to me in bed?”
His pupils dilate to the size of dimes. Swallowing, he mutters, “Maybe not that, but I’m not always going to be home. I can also just work on my computer in the office when you need to…” He wiggles the dildo. “…take care of your needs.”
I snatch the offending object out of his hands. “Fine. Anything to stop this conversation.”
Before he can reply, I grab an armful of toys and sprint out of the bathroom.
He follows me, probably to make sure I’m okay.
I open the closest nightstand drawer and toss the toys in. “There. Can I get some privacy now?”
He looks me over again. “Are you absolutely sure you’re not hurt?”
“Positively.”
He reaches for his nearby pajamas. “Promise to yell if something starts to hurt?”
“I swear on what’s left of my dignity.”
He goes back to the bathroom and comes out wearing the PJs.
“I’ll be back in a few.” He leaves the bedroom.
I lock the bedroom door behind him and use the towel that’s covering me to dry myself before putting on my nightie.
There’s a knock.
I unlock the door and get into bed.
Art is standing there with some tools. As I gape at him, he starts to repair the bathroom door with the utter nonchalance of someone who knows exactly what he’s doing.
Damn it. He’s handy too. Even if I had gotten a chance to use the toys, I’d probably require another session after this.
“You still okay?” he asks when the door is as good as new.
