“Alright. Deal. I’ll make you a suit in exchange for living here.”
“Great. So you’ll measure me tonight and have it done tomorrow, right?”
Jessie flopped her head down on the table.
Chapter 19
Jessie
I insisted on doing the dishes since Ben cooked. I wiped down the kitchen counters, but really, he’d been a surprisingly neat cook. I don’t know why I had such rock-bottom expectations of Ben. I really wasn’t being fair to him. He was nothing but nice to me, albeit a little bossy about it.
I grabbed my measuring tape from my sewing table, glancing at the new bed that indeed did carry a strong odor. I knocked at Mikey’s open bedroom door.
“Jockey?”
The en-suite bathroom door swung open, steam coming outaround him. There was Ben, buck naked and rubbing a towel over his hair. Muscles. Glorious, corded muscles, miles of them stretched over his whole body. Veins. And, “Holy God!”
I screamed and flattened myself against the wall, covering my eyes. His dick. His actual dick. Was thatsoft? I mean, I’d felt the thing pushing into my backside when we cuddled, but Jesus, was it really that big?
“Shit, my bad,” he said. “Need something, babe?”
“Babe?!” I shrieked. “You’re naked!”
“In my own room!”
“With the door open, Mikey!”
“Well, sorry, I’m not used to having a roommate yet.”
I sputtered. “I knocked! The door was open! You just came out of there like that!”
A waistband snapped. “There. I got on some pants. You happy?”
I stammered, unable to come up with anything to say.
“Jessie? Did you need something?”
My hands were still cemented over my eyes. Mikey’s footsteps came closer and his fingers closed around my wrists, pulling my hands off my face. I pinned myself against the wall behind me, gasping.
“Hey. Didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
My face flamed. “It’s—it’s just your body. Bodies are fine. I’m sorry I barged in here.”
“It’s fine,” he said, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. “I’m sorry I got you all flustered.”
“I’m not flustered,” I breathed.
The measuring tape in my hand unrolled, dropping to the floor. Mikey didn’t take his eyes off my face. Our faces were just inches apart, and he still held my wrists. His voice was low and calm. “What do you call what you are, then?”
The humid warmth of his skin from the shower pulsed into my space, a manly bodywash smell surrounding me.
I found my words. “Surprised.”
He gave a little chuckle, a smirk playing on his lips. “Is that what you call it?”
Was he putting the moves on me? Worse, was I liking it? I had that same could-morph-into-a-puddle feeling that I had when he gave his little speech about fucking me in a coat closet.
My chest heaved as I forced a breath. “Yeah.”
