Page 164 of Worthy

“This isn’t up for discussion.”

That commanding voice. Ugh, just get me hard right now, why don’t you? I turn my body slightly so he can’t make out my dick perking up between my legs. It’s why I’ve taken to wearing baggy clothes around this place.

My propensity toward skirts and booty shorts doesn’t allow for the numerous erections I get just by being in Dean’s general vicinity. Hence, the overalls. Plus, I don’t think my preferred attire would go over well here.

These men are very…masculine. And I’m…well, I’m not. Standing at five foot five, I’m gangly and thin with long legs, long hair, and an obsession with high heels. I’m not afraid these guys would harm me over it, but I am wary of what they would think if I showed up all dolled up.

I’m not sure they could handle it or if they could accept me like that.

I’m not sure if I’m ready to come out and do it, either.

Accepting myself for who I am has been a bit of a journey, one that I’m still on. I think I’ll need to take some baby steps. I don’t have the full confidence yet to unleash it all into the world. Although, I have always wondered how they would react if I showed up here wearing exactly what I want to wear. Maybe I’d start slow…just a skirt and a short top with sneakers. I wonder what they’d think. Would they even say anything?

Would Dean like it?

In my dreams, maybe.

“Fine,” I say and then move around him toward his desk. “Now get out of here. I have work to do.”

I plop down on his chair as Dean swivels his head around, a smirk on his lips.

“We’re leaving at twelve,” he tells me.

“Can we take the motorcycle?” I ask, and Dean’s lips turn up at the corners.

“And put your shit where, Avery?”

I flush, realizing the mistake I made.

“The Impala it is.”

“Ugh, that thing,” I moan, but I’m grinning because honestly, it’s sexy and loud andfun.Never in a million years did I think my mind would change about how dumb cars are. That is, until I started working here six months ago. Now, I’m all about the classic cars. I know more about them than I care to admit.

Mostly because ofhim. Because I like Dean more than is reasonable. I know it’s ridiculous because there is zero chance that man would go for someone like me. But a boy can dream, right?

I will dream all the livelong day.

***

“We’ll grab your stuff and then head to my place to drop it off. You hungry?” Dean asks, his big, strong hand on the steering wheel of his 1959 Chevrolet Impala. I want him to wrap those fingers around my neck…and my dick, but I digress.

“Yeah, I could eat,” I say, buckling in.

The car is rumbling beneath us as I chew on my bottom lip again. It’s a nervous habit and right now, I’m nervous. Because apparently, I’m going to grab my stuff and move in with the man of my dreams—a man who has been a widower for almost twenty years and who only dates beautiful women. I know because I’ve seen them, all long legs, pouty lips, and flowing hair. I sometimes wonder if I bent over, could he imagine I was one? Could he get over any hangups he has about me being a man if he just closed his eyes?

I should be ashamed of my thoughts, but I know that I’d do it. I’d offer myself up for a chance to feel him inside of me.

I could probably be okay with once. Just fuckingonce.

“Put your address in so I know where I’m going,” Dean says, handing me his phone. Quickly, I input the coordinates and let him drive me across town to the run-down apartment I share with three other guys. It’s not my ideal living situation, but it worked…until it didn’t.

Until one of them decided he couldn’t accept who I was and lashed out.

At least, staying with Dean is the silver lining in all of this.

Dean parks his car and then we’re out, his body so close to mine I can feel the heat radiating off of him. Would he notice if I leaned in and sniffed?

He’d probably totally notice.

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