Page 45 of Cocky Choices: Zoe Cocker

Iclose the door behind us, the click echoing in the quiet of my apartment. I glance back at Tom, who’s standing with an amused expression on his face.

“Ugh, I can’t believe I did that,” he mutters, looking down at the dark stain spread across his clothing like an inkblot. My heart twists a little at his adorableness.

“It’s just coffee,” I smile, setting Ralphie’s carrier down and unzipping it so he can stroll out to wait in the kitchen for his meal. “No big deal.”

“Meow!”

“Dinner’s coming, Ralphie.” I wave Tom deeper in, grinning, “Come on. Such a bummer it was the whole cup.”

“Yeah, and it’s my favorite work shirt,” he replies with his lopsided smile, its charm shining right into my heart.

I can’t help but chuckle, “It was really funny when it happened though. You need to take it off.” The words, “Pants, too,” slip out before I can stop them, and I feel a flush fly into my cheeks.

Tom raises an eyebrow, his expression shifting from surprise to something more intense. “Are you serious?”

I nod slowly, heart racing.

He reaches back to his shoulder blades, takes ahold of the wet polo shirt and yanks it off, six pack exposed and undulating, chest bared to me for the first time ever. I stare and he asks, voice deeper, “Like that?”

I swallow.

It’s ridiculous how tempting the thought of reaching out and touching his bare skin is — him standing right here in front of me, shirtless, in my home. But the reality of my engagement suddenly vaults into my mind, a reminder of the promise I’ve made to someone else whispering a warning.

He starts to go for his pants and I blurt, “Wait!”

Tom freezes with his hands on the zipper, and looks up at me from under his tousled brown hair. “Want me to do it nice and slow?”

I cry out in shock, “Tom!”

“I’m kidding.”

“Oh!”

“Unless you want me not to be.”

My heart thuds in my chest, and we stare at each other until I force a laugh. “Ha ha. You’re funny. Let me just get you a robe. You can change into it… in the bathroom.”

Where I’m not in danger of watching every move you make.

Crossing to my armoire I’m insanely aware of the excited goosebumps alighting my skin. Nervously, I sift through the hangers and pull out my robe, a soft pink silk with matching faux fur. I spin around and hold it up. “Here you go.”

“Now you’re the one who’s kidding.”

I blink to from it to him. “What? This is the only robe I’ve got.”

“Were you in a 50’s porno?”

A grin flies onto my face, cheeks hot. “What are you talking about? This is a classic! I found it in a second-hand store and fellin love. I told Ralphie he’s not the only one who gets to be soft and furry.”

“And now I get the honor,” Tom smirks. “Okay, fine, I’ll just… be right back.” Taking the robe from me he shakes his head with humor in his eyes. My pulse quickens as our fingers brush against one another in the hand-off. I watch him go, and try to shake off the way-too-sexy thoughts spiraling through my mind.

At the door, he gives me a wink, disappears and shuts it.

Alone in my studio, save for Ralphie who’s cleaning his paws in preparation for a feast, I take a deep breath, and run my fingers through my hair. Oh, I forgot I took it out of the bun! It feels unexpectedly sensuous this way, and I steal a glance at the mirror, gratefully finding the waves appealing. Sometimes buns curl my hair in a soft way — I’m lucky tonight is one of those nights.

What’re you thinking about, Zoe?! You don’t want Tom to find you attractive, do you?

How did we end up here?

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