Hit the Spot

Page 57

Unfortunately, instead of scrolling down the page, I accidentally clicked on Images.

“Oh, God!” I gasped, hand flying to my mouth as the page loaded and my eyes were assaulted. I went to look away but found myself narrowing in on the third image instead, bringing the device closer to my face as I quietly remarked, “Oh, no, you didn’t. Why? Why would you bring attention to that? You can’t even really.” I tilted my head. “Oh, there it is.”

The bathroom door swung open.

Gasping again, this time somehow even more dramatic because I was about to get caught staring at a screen full of dicks, I smashed the phone against my chest and pivoted around.

Jamie stood in the doorway, brow furrowed and eyes searching the small room. “What the fuck?” he asked, looking into my face. “What happened? Why’d you scream?”

“Uh.” I slid my thumb along the front of the phone, found the Home button, and clicked it. “Nothing. I … I thought I saw a spider, or something. It scurried down the drain. It was gross. And hairy.”

His brows lifted.

I swallowed, feeling nerves constrict my throat. Then, even though I was seriously trying hard to stay quiet, those nerves got the best of me and my mouth just kept right on going at an even faster rate.

“You know, like, so much hair you can’t even see what all they got. They don’t groom themselves or anything. Not even to attract the opposite sex.” I shook my head through a laugh. “Like, take the time, you know? Put a little effort in. It won’t kill ya.”

Jamie stared at me. His brows were still lifted.

I was totally talking about the penis I just saw. Terrific.

“Anyway.” I cleared my throat and slid my phone back onto the counter, then I grabbed on to the top of my towel and held it in place while Jamie’s presence in my house tripped my awareness. I stared back at him, eyes narrowing. “You know, just because you can break into my house doesn’t mean you should. It’s rude and, honestly, a little disturbing. There’s a doorbell outside for a reason.”

“You know what time it is?” he asked, reaching up and gripping on to the door frame with both hands, causing the off-white tee he was wearing to rise up and show tanned, hard abs and the trail of hair below his navel.

I glanced at what he was showing me, briefly, then I looked back into his eyes and remembered his question. “No. I’ve been in the shower. But what’s that got to do with you picking locks instead of waiting for me to greet you?”

“Did wait,” he replied. “Got here at ten fifteen, like I said I would, knocked and rang the fuckin’ bell. Gave you two minutes to get your ass to that door and let me in yourself. You didn’t.”

I motioned at the front of me with the hand not clutching my towel. “I was showering. Hello. I would’ve greeted you when I was finished.”

“Meaning I would’ve been standing on your porch for thirty fuckin’ minutes, Legs.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s quarter of eleven, babe.”

I blinked.

Was it?

“Yeah,” Jamie answered, reading my mind as he tipped forward and flexed his arms. “Waited the two minutes, got pissed at you for not answerin’ the door when you knew damn well I’d be here at that exact time, let myself in with plans on gettin’ on your case about it, and heard you showerin’. Hearin’ that, I knew you were in here gettin’ yourself ready for me so I quit bein’ pissed at you. But straight up, babe, told you before and I’ll say it again, you’re in this house, I’m gettin’ in. If I give you time to answer and you don’t, that’s on you.”

I listened to Jamie’s reasoning, and although I liked parts of it, him using the doorbell and knocking like a civilized person for one, there were parts of it I didn’t like. I focused on one part in particular.

“Are you saying there will be occasions where you don’t give me time to answer?” I asked, moving my hand to my hip and keeping the other on the towel.

“Yep.”

“Like when?”

Jamie smiled. “Like. When,” I repeated, doing so with more sass when he didn’t answer me.

“Middle of the night and I’m horny as fuck.” He shrugged, keeping the smile. “Probably won’t bother knocking then, seeing as you’ll be asleep and won’t hear it.”

My nostrils flared. I tipped forward, the hand around my towel gripping tighter into a fist as I questioned, “Are you implying that I’m some sort of booty call to you? That you’re gonna come here whenever you want a piece of ass and use me for it?”

Jamie lost his smile. Instantly. His face wiped clean of amusement. He didn’t look angry, but he looked … something. Disturbed or disappointed. Maybe a little saddened. I couldn’t tell.

And why did I suddenly feel sorry for calling him out on his suggestion?

Really?

He was the one suggesting it!

“Didn’t mean it like that,” Jamie said, voice steady and assuring.

I straightened up, stared at him for a beat, and read his honesty. Then getting that, I informed him without sass this time, “Fine, but that’s how it sounded.”

“Yeah. I’m gettin’ that.” He dropped his arms and exhaled heavily, still holding that look I couldn’t read. Then he took a step back out into the hallway and turned sideways, facing my room. “We doin’ this?” he asked.

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