leaf and not sandwiched between one of those delicious toasted buns. My stomach rumbles. Trying to be thin sucks.
“What took you so long?” snaps Brandon as I strut into his living room. Now wearing perfectly ripped jeans and a white tee, he’s sitting on the couch fiddling with the remote.
“Can you show a little appreciation, please?” I snap back at him before handing him the bag with his burger and fries. “I got you a cheeseburger exactly how you like it with ketchup and grilled onions.”
Without thanking me, he reaches into the bag. I watch his toned biceps flex as he bites into his burger.
Bite me, asshole.
With my burger bag in hand, I march off.
“Where are you going?” he asks before I’ve taken two steps.
“To my living quarters. If you don’t mind, I’d like to eat my dinner in solitude.” And in peace and quiet.
He grabs a couple of fries. “That’s not going to work. We need to make this a working meal. I have a lot of catching up to do. Now take a seat.”
“Are you going to pay me overtime?”
“Yes.” His voice borders on a growl. “Now, please take a seat.”
Well, at least he said please. I search for a good place to sit, the farther away from him the better. I head toward a corner chair. His voice stops me in my tracks.
“No. I want you to sit next to me. There’s a lot to go over.”
Grrr. Reluctantly, I meander back to the couch and plop down on the leather cushion beside him, curling up in a cross-legged position. He stretches his long legs out on the coffee table in front of us. My knee brushes against his rock-hard thigh and my eyes glimpse the sizeable package between his legs. It’s quite a chunk of meat. My hunger consumes me. I take a bite of my pathetic burger.
“What exactly do you have in mind?” I ask after swallowing. The Protein Burger isn’t as bad as I thought. It’s pretty juicy.
“I thought we’d screen some episodes of my show, mainly from this past season.”
My insides light up. I love Kurt Kussler and could totally binge on it. I’ve been watching the series since the day it premiered. I’ve seen every episode a dozen times and, with my crazy memory, know many of them by heart. When I found out from the job recruiter that I’d be working for the superstar, I practically drove my car off a cliff. I should have. Little did I know at the time what I had in store.
“Sure,” I say casually, masking my excitement as he presses the remote with one of his long tapered fingers. Just like the rest of him, his hands are beautiful, sculpted works of art. The action-packed opening credit sequence set to the pulsing theme song instantly plays on the built-in big screen TV. A fast-paced montage of memorable clips culled from various episodes, each ending with Kurt in a sexy pose. Kurt Kussler is hot. So scorching hot. My heartbeat speeds up and a heat wave melts my entire being. I feel like the deconstructing Wicked Witch of the West. All hot molten liquid.
Brandon presses a button on the remote and the opening credits speed up.
“What are you doing?” I yell.
“Fast forwarding. We don’t need to waste time.”
“Stop! I love the opening credits.” I snatch the remote from him and slow down the credits to normal speed just in time to see Kurt do his signature line at the end. Lunging, he aims his big gun straight ahead and says:
“Get it. Got it? Good.” I say the words with him.
Brandon gives me an odd look as Kurt pulls the trigger and a loud BOOM! fills the room. I gasp. There’s something about Kurt holding that big gun and looking directly into the camera with those fierce violet eyes that makes my heart ricochet out of my chest every time.
“Are you okay?” asks my companion.
Is it that obvious I’m totally in love with Kurt Kussler? Just like every woman in the world. “Yes,” I pant out and then chomp into my burger to satisfy my carnal craving.
“Have some fries,” he orders after I gulp it down. He holds out the bag.
Without losing eye contact with the TV, I lose my willpower and dig in. God, they’re good. Crispy and lightly salted. Worth every sinful calorie.
The opening credits segue right into the episode. Holy moly! It’s one of my favorites. The one in which Kurt doesn’t know he’s standing