The door is still open, letting the rain in, so I reach over to shut it while I dry my chest. I drop the towel to the floor to mop up the puddle.
“Um, I don’t know who told you that, but?—”
I finish drying the floor before turning back to face her. “You’ve always been a shitty liar, Cupcake.”
She purses her pink lips, andfuckif it doesn’t make me want to spank her ass and kiss that attitude right off of her face.
“Who is he?”
Honestly, I wouldn’t be this angry about the fact that she actually commissioned a mural for the backyard wall if he hadn’t hugged her every single time he came over. The first time, I didn’t realize who he was through the cameras, but the second time, when he started drawing on the cinder block, it hit me.
Finding out that she no doubt spent anoutrageousamount on a mural, hid it from me,andhired some idiot who couldn’t keep his hands to himself—it makes me want to do things to him that would require me to hire a criminal defense lawyer. And I fucking hate lawyers.
She crosses her arms, unintentionally making her boobs squeeze together and look even more suckable.
“He’s a highly reputable artist. Cheri knows him too.”
“I don’t give a fuck if he painted the Sistine Chapel with Michelangelo.”
She steps toward me, lifting her chin. “That’s why I didn’t ask you. The contract is signed, Dayton.” She says my name like it’s a curse. “He stays.”
She looks up at me, pretty lips in a pout, reminding me of the way they looked in one of her lingerie pictures.
Don’t think about the pictures right now.
“How much was it?” I grit out, trying to redirect the blood that’s flowing south.
“I’m going to pay for it, I’ll have you know. You didn’t have to fly all the way here in the middle of the night. I’m taking on photography clients again to?—”
“How much was it?” I repeat.
She sighs, looking away before finally relenting. “Twenty grand. But I swear I’m going to cover it. I’ll work seven days a week if I have to. I want it. It’s a selling point.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Are you gonna pay for the cabinet upgrade too? For the hand-painted tiles? The specialty lattice on the porches?”
She’s silent. I look down at her, the perky nipples under her top begging me to taste them. I’m beyond livid with her, but all I can think about is punishing her by making her get on her knees and tie her hair up in a ponytail for me to hold on to while she opens her mouth for me.
Instead, I take a step back, feeling the erection growing in my dress pants. I turn away, bending down to unzip my duffel bag in an attempt to hide the hard length. After a few seconds of pretending to look for something, I start to pinch my arm to focus my attention on another body part.
Think about something else.
“I’m putting all my photography income toward the house to cover the upgrades.”
As if I would just let her work herself to death to pay for the fucking tiles.
Her voice, the existence of her puckered nipples right behind me, and the proximity of us being trapped in this studio together on a stormy night are making it difficult for me to get rid of my boner. I stand up, holding a pair of my gym shorts in front of me.
“I’m taking a shower.” I walk into the bathroom without another word and shut the door behind me.
I don’t want to do it. The shower isn’t that big, but I need to release this tension if I’m going to sleep in here tonight with her so damn close to me, smelling like sunshine and sea salt and coconut. I kick off my dress shoes and pull off my soaked suit pants. I turn the water on, stepping under it before it even finishes heating up.
I grip the base of my dick, pumping my fist over it fast and hard. The knowledge that Summer is out there, her ass hanging out of her shorts and the coconut smell in her hair, is all I need to think about. I could be biting those nipples. I could have my face between her thighs, savoring the scent and taste of her pussy, like I’ve been dying to do for so long.
Never gonna happen. You’re stuck with the fantasy.
I close my eyes, holding back a moan as the water finally heats. My other hand reaches down to cup my balls, squeezing them lightly.
It takes all my strength not to invite her in, to see what she’d say. She let me squeeze her thigh at Cocktails and Chaos for hours without complaint.
