1
BENEDICT
A bare ass.
Let me rephrase. A fine bare ass is not the usual sight I get to admire when I look out the kitchen window into my backyard. Especially when said fine bare ass leads to strong thighs that look like they’d cut off the circulation to your brain if you were lucky enough to get that close, not to mention the sculpted calves you’d happily run your tongue over.
Over the months that I’ve lived in the small cottage that shares a wall with the Lydovia Royal Palace gardens, I’ve spent hours admiring the varied creatures that visit my side of the wall. Birds, squirrels, butterflies, even a mouse or two, but this particular specimen is a first.
Mr. Bare Ass moves around the yard, seemingly unworried that someone might take offense to his lack of attire. Or the fact he’s in someone else’s backyard, for that matter.
He turns around, and I’m unfortunately spared a full-on view of his junk by the box of donuts in his hands.
My mouth hangs open as I watch the surreal scene unfold. The beautiful stranger, seemingly oblivious to his state of undress, plops down on my garden bench, opens the box, pulls out a donut, and stuffs it into his mouth…whole.
My dick reacts to the sight because, at this stage, my brain still hasn’t caught up to the fact there’s a naked stranger in my yard, which is not normal.
He runs his tongue over his plump pink lips covered in white powdered sugar. Said sugar also falls across his smooth, sculpted chest.
Is this what having a stroke at forty-five feels like?
He wipes the powder off his chest and takes another donut from the box. He plops that one in his mouth with an indulgent smile, and that’s it, my dick goes all the way hard.
I groan. It’s been way too long since I’ve had any kind of sex.
Is this an offering from the powers above? Or a tease more like.
Thoughts of the reason for my exile of sorts to a foreign country intrude on my mind, and I come crashing down like someone’s dropped a bucket of icy water on my head.
I should probably do something. Call the authorities, or at least let the guy know he’s on someone else’s property. But a traitorous spark of curiosity flares within me.
Before I decide what to do, the guy closes the box and stands. With a carefree smile, he walks up to the back door and knocks.
I freeze, torn between self-preservation and an inexplicable urge to see how this bizarre situation plays out.
Against my better judgment, I crack open the door. There he stands, all tanned skin and an easy grin, holding out a donut like a naked peace offering.
“Hiya, neighbor! Sorry for the impromptu visit. I’m Zeke. Mind if I borrow some clothes? I seem to have misplaced mine during a rather ill-advised dare involving streaking for donuts.”
I blink at him, momentarily struck dumb by his casual demeanor. “I…you…what?”
Zeke’s grin widens. “Long story short: never challenge a group of bored royal guards to a game of Truth or Dare. Especially when there’s a nearby bakery and a conveniently placed pond involved.” He waggles the donut enticingly. “Apple cinnamon. Want one? I promise they’re worth the calories. Not that you need to worry about that.” His eyes roam my body from head to toe, and I hope he doesn’t notice the bulge in my pants.
A reluctant chuckle escapes me. “I think I’ll pass on the baked goods, thanks. Would you like to come inside?”
“I usually know at least a guy’s first name before I come anywhere near inside,” he teases. “I told you mine. What’s yours?”
He follows me, looking around the small kitchen.
“I’m Benedict,” I say, holding out my hand.
He takes it, but instead of shaking, he holds my hand and my gaze captive.
“That’s quite a serious name. Almost stuffy. It doesn’t suit you.”
I shrug. “It’s the only one I have.”
His lips quirk in a smile. “I’m sure I could find you a better one, Benedict,” he says like he’s trying the name out. He turns his nose up a little, which makes me laugh. “What brings you to Lydovia?”
