in gym shorts or loose sweats, and they don’t do his backside a bit of justice, because holy hell he’s got an ass.
Ollie’s finger wipes at the corner of my mouth, alerting me that I’ve been caught staring. I make a face and push his hand away, wiping under my lip just in case. Milo turns and he has a scowl on his face. He looks so handsome; his hair is styled away from his face, showing off his killer jaw and his navy eyes. Either ignoring or unaware of my gawking, he shoves his thumb into the waistband of his pants while bending his knees. “I can barely fucking breathe.” He yanks his dress shirt out of his pants. As soon as it’s all the way out, he undoes the buttons and loosens the tie at his neck, keeping it tied while slipping it over his head. The shirt and tie get tossed to the back of the couch, leaving him in the sinful pants and a skintight white undershirt. Milo’s arms are corded with thick ropy muscles and veins. His wide shoulders bunch up as he pulls off his last shirt. My eyes travel down his chest to a thin line of hair just below his belly button. His stomach is ripped, his abs standing out, and I finally get the term six pack.
As my gaze continues down, I see a definite bulge in the front of his pants—they’re that tight. I look away then, feeling like I’ve violated him somehow. “Please tell me someone has slacks I can wear,” Milo’s voice is gruff. Ares sets his laptop on the coffee table and stands as he notices Milo’s state of undress. “I wore these fucking things three weeks ago.” Milo makes the statement into an accusation. His eyes shoot to Ollie like he thinks this is part of some prank.
Ollie lifts his hands, one still joined with mine, in surrender. “I didn’t take your pants.” He doesn’t hide the laughter in his voice. Milo’s eyes narrow.
“You can try mine, but they’ll probably be too big,” Ares offers, already pulling open his belt. My mouth goes dry, they’re going to strip, standing right here.
“Anything is better than these nut huggers,” Milo mumbles acerbically. He’s not wearing a belt, so he sucks in his rock-hard stomach, going almost to his tiptoes to unbutton his pants. His face is red by the time he lets out a huge breath of relief when he opens them.
My fingers cover my lips, but a giggle escapes. Milo tries pushing his pants down his hips, but they get stuck at his thighs, the open fly showcasing his privates indecently. I release Ollie’s hand and cover my eyes as I spin around so I’ll stop ogling him. And hopefully he won’t notice my shoulders shaking, because I can’t stop the laughter from bubbling up. I hear a loud, long ripping sound seconds later, coming full circle. I look back at Milo holding his black pants high in the air with a satisfied sneer on his lips. He tore them off.
“Dude, you’ve been working out.” Ollie grins.
That comment has Milo’s lips thinning. He drops the pants on the floor, straightening to his full height. I let my eyes travel from his black socks and up. My eyes get stuck on his thighs—how could I not have known what Milo was hiding under all those baggy clothes? I’ve been staring so long I missed Ares taking his pants off. He leans over, kinda tossing Milo his pants. My eyes are volleying back and forth between the two of them now. Ares’s shirt is just a little shorter than his boxers. He’s not as cut as Milo, but everything is thicker, no less powerful. I don’t even know where to look.
Milo steps into Ares’s pants, and he has to stick his leg straight out so his foot comes out of the bottom. When he places his foot back on the ground the fabric pools over his foot a bit. Widening his legs so the pants won’t fall, he tucks his undershirt over his boxers. “Thanks man,” Milo mutters shaking out his shirt and sliding his arms in the sleeves. Ares crosses his arms over his chest, completely fine standing there in his shirt and underwear.
“Shit, fuck.” Milo pinches the side of the waist after tucking in his shirt and buttoning the pants to hold them up. They aren’t clown big, but they’re definitely oversized. “Can I get your belt?”