Work In Progress (Red Lipstick Coalition #3) - Staci Hart Page 0,77
felt to have a stroke.
Tommy was locked in an epic battle of will with Gus, the towel taut and caught in Tommy’s massive fists. He pulled hand over hand, eliminating the distance so he could grab Gus by the jaw, clamp his fingers in the soft spots, and squeeze.
Gus opened up, panting so wide, he looked like he was smiling. And then he bounded away, heading for his bear again like he’d already forgotten the whole ordeal.
Tommy’s face was hard, his eyes still on the dog, towel in hand as he walked across the room again.
He almost reached the kitchen when he seemed to remember I was there.
I was staring at his dick.
“How’s the view?” he asked.
And when I looked up at him, his smirk was so smoldering hot that I gripped the countertop, grateful for its cool comfort.
I resisted the urge to press my flaming cheek to it and close my eyes.
“I…oh God, I…I’m sorry…I just—”
Tommy laughed, a comforting sound that filled the room, easing my mortification.
Him covering his junk helped. I couldn’t think with it flopping around like that.
“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Just promise me tomorrow you’ll come out for coffee in your towel so Gus can return the favor.”
I groaned and covered my face with my hands, which was a mistake. Burned on the backs of my eyelids was the vision of Tommy’s dick.
My eyes shot open when my hands dropped, my lips pursed so tight, they were pinned hard between my teeth.
A flicker of concern flashed behind Tommy’s eyes, but he was still smirking, that bastard. “You okay?”
“Mmhmm.”
“You sure?”
“Mmhmm.”
For a second, he watched me. “Melia…have you ever seen a naked man before?”
“Mmhmm. Loads,” I answered with numb lips.
One dark eyebrow arched. “Loads, huh?”
“I watch porn like any other red-blooded American,” I said with bravado I didn’t feel.
He laughed with an astute certainty that he knew something I didn’t. “Not quite the same as flesh and blood though, is it?”
I shrugged and picked up my coffee. “If you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.”
Mischief. Mischief and meaning skated off his skin and reached for me. “Oh, I don’t think that’s true at all.” His voice was low and raspy and thick with intention.
An awkward, nervous laugh bubbled out of me, and I used the moment to change the subject, tangentially at least. “I have to admit, I didn’t peg you for a tattoo-on-the-ass kind of guy.”
He let me shift the conversation, but something in his smile told me he wasn’t letting it go.
I thought he was going to explain himself, but instead, he turned around and dropped his towel enough to expose that imposing, mathematically perfect muscle. It was close enough to touch, but I clutched my coffee mug like a lifeline, leaning forward to get a better look.
Tattooed in a typewriter font on the sculpted globe of his ass were the words Made in the Bronx.
Laughter bubbled out of me, and Tommy glanced over his shoulder with that ridiculous sideways smile of his before returning the towel to its rightful place around his waist.
“What?” he asked. “It’s true.”
I rolled my eyes, though I was still giggling. “I’m sure your mother is proud.”
He shrugged one gorgeously naked shoulder. “She’s always proud. And I’m always trying to make her proud.”
“Even with your USDA ass tattoo?”
“Sure. It’s part of who I am, part of my past. I didn’t want to forget where I came from, and I think that is something that makes Ma happy.”
God, I didn’t know how he did that. How he could be this pillar of flesh and stone and beauty that set me on fire like he did and make my heart ache and long and yearn in ways I’d only found in fiction.
My smile softened. “Well, when you put it like that, I think you might be right.”
“I have my moments,” he said with a hotshot wink that was too fucking sexy.
It wasn’t even fair.
On that, he turned for his bedroom, rustling Gus’s ears when he passed. And I watched him all the way, shaking my head over my coffee.
Because, boy, did the Bronx ever turn out some winners.
Homemade Dynamite
Amelia
“If he’s a grower and show-er, you are in so much trouble,” Val said on a laugh.
I groaned, but Rin and Katherine shared in the laughter at my expense. We sat at our favorite table at our favorite bar for the first time since I’d gotten married. It felt like a lifetime ago, a different girl, a different universe.