Page 60 of Dirty Filthy Boy
Chapter 18
MacKenna
MONDAY MORNING, I'm snuggled against Ty when my cell rings. Darn it. I'd left it behind in my room. I crawl out of the warm and cozy cocoon, and mad dash it back to my room.
All groggy voice, I answer. "Hello."
"Good morning." It's Oliver. "I didn't wake you, did I?"
"No. I was up doing . . . stuff."
"Oookay."
I can hear the smile on his face. Oh, God. Now he's probably thinking I was doing it with Ty.
"Just wanted you to know your car will be delivered in the next hour or so. Sorry for the delay, but there was a problem last night."
"No worries. Thanks. Hopefully, I won't need it that long."
"What do you mean?"
"Ty's having my car towed to a repair shop. With any luck, I'll get it back by the end of the week."
"Sounds good. But you can keep the leased one as long as you want."
"Thanks, but I'd rather not impose on you."
"It's not an imposition."
After hanging up, I dress quickly. By the time I'm done, the scent of bacon and coffee tells me Ty's busy in the kitchen whipping up some breakfast.
Determined to adopt a sunnier frame of mind today, I breeze into the kitchen with a smile on my face. "Good morning."
"Morning." He throws over his shoulder, all his attention on the bacon on the stove. Which gives me the chance to ogle him. He's looking particularly delicious this morning. His massive muscular back narrows down to a V. The sweat pants ripple across his mighty fine ass. God, even his feet are gorgeous.
Without turning around, he says, "Like what you see?"
"What?" My cheeks flame. How does he know I'm salivating over him.
"You're ogling my ass."
Busted. "I am not."
He drops the bacon on a couple of paper towels to drain, and turns off the stove. And then he swivels toward me. "Admit it. You lust after my body."
"You're so . . ."
"Hot? Ripped? Built?" With every word, he takes a step toward me.
"Arrogant!"
He smirks. "Yeah, that too." He continues walking until my back's flushed against the refrigerator. He's hard all over, including his cock that he grinds against my stomach.
My skin flushes from the contact, and my breath shorts. Still, I find the breath to ask, "Shouldn't your shoulder be in that brace?"
"I'll put it on after I dress." He leans over and kisses, suckles my neck.
I get goosebumps all over. "Wh-what's wrong with your shoulder?"
