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After making more notations, I kneel behind him and prepare to measure his inseam. First, for no good reason, I slide my palm over his pants from his knee up to the bottom of his ass cheek.
“What the fuck, Olivia?” he hisses. “Do you want to land us both in the brig?”
“I’m simply doing my job, Ty. Ensuring you have aperfect fit.”
On those last two words, I snug the tape measure directly under his balls. I hope the soft moan that just escaped me didn’t reach the soldiers’ ears.
“Have other males died from this before, Olivia? You’re killing me.”
If it was anyone else, I’d think he was joking. But I don’t think he is. His head is hanging, chin almost to his chest as he pants like a woman in Lamaze class.
“Just a moment more.” I rearrange the tape, copping a feel of his heavy balls through the thick khaki material.
By his rapid breathing, I wonder if he’s going to pass out. I’m almost swooning as I think about what his furred balls will feel like in the palm of my hand.
The moment I get the last measurement, I snatch my hand away and rise to my feet.
“Sorry,” I mumble, my gaze skittering from his. “I overstepped.”
If a man had the nerve to do something half that intimate to me, I’d consider making a police report.
“I said you were killing me, Olivia. I never asked you to stop.” His voice, a deep, sexy rumble, fades into an affectionate purr.
Between his purrs and my desire, one of us is going to pounce on the other if we don’t break the mood.
“One more question and we’re done. Do you dress to the right or the left?” I ask. It’s tailor-speak for asking whether his balls hang left or right in his pants.
“Good job!” he praises. “Changing the subject with a joke!”
I glance at him and see the Ty who walked into my shop that first day. The handsome male with the wide smile that only seems to leave his face when he’s thinking sexy thoughts about me.
“Joke?”
“Yeah. I know this one, but I’m not sure I remember the punchline. Don’t tell me. It has something to do with ‘I put my pants on one leg at a time just like you,’ right?”
This male is so adorable, I want to cup his cheeks in my palms and give him a big smack on the lips.
“Yeah, I don’t know that joke.” I step closer, knowing that any second now the soldiers are going to breach the distance from where they’ve been standing on the other side of the room and tell us to step apart.
“Asking if you dress right or left means which side do your… male parts hang.” Why I’m acting coy now after feeling him up a moment ago is anybody’s guess.
Those gorgeous golden eyes round in his face as if my question crossed a final invisible taboo.
“Why…?”
“I leave extra room,” I explain, even as somewhere in the far recesses of my mind I wonder just howmuchextra room that big boy is going to need.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ty
There have been many times in my life I thought I was going to die. Dozens, maybe hundreds, of times when our owners pitted us against each other in fights. Some of those were before humans are old enough to go to school. Things only got more serious after they trained us on weapons.
Luckily, those days are over. But with the torture Olivia is putting me through, I’m surely going to die before our big Bollywood production is over.
Her dexterous little fingers measuring me, touching me where no one has ever trespassed before, almost made me explode in front of her and those watchful soldiers.
I can’t be angry, though, not for a minute. I’ll think about her hands sliding through my fur and touching me through my pants a thousand times from now until eternity.
