Page 36 of Outside the Lines
I kissed him back. Didn’t trust myself to speak. I didn’t have a clue what was going on in his head. Didn’t know what was going on in mine, only that here and now, Simon was in my arms, I was in his, and that was enough.
Thank goodness we opened the shop later on Sundays, because all three of us were dragging in the morning, though the sex had been so very worth it. I was sore in every glorious way I loved.
Mr. Purrbody waltzed into the guest bedroom while Ian was in the shower and jumped on the bed. He sniffed the covers with a disdain only cats manage, and stared at me.
“Yeah, well, it was fun, Flufferbutt. Don’t give me the stink-eye.”
He swished his tail, then flopped down near the end of the bed, next to the clothes I’d found for Ian to wear. A fairly innocuous T-shirt and jeans, since no one needed to know he’d spent the night here, though honestly, I was beginning not to care so much. Something I should talk to Lydia about.
A few minutes after the water shut off, Ian exited the bathroom, wonderfully naked, towel drying his wet hair. I must have been staring, because he shrugged. “Figured everyone’s seen it.”
Yeah, but I could gaze at his body for ages, the way his hips moved, the trail of hair from his belly to his cock. Those delicious nipples. His glorious tattoo displayed for all the world to see. “Mr. Purrbody hasn’t.”
He eyed the cat and slung the towel over his shoulder. “Purrbody? You called him McFluff last night.”
“He’s got lots of names. Officially, he’s Lawrence Purrbody, but also Flufferbutt. McFluff. Larry Fuzzbottom.” I laughed. “He’s our judgmental feline overlord.”
I swear, if any cat could give me a raised eyebrow, my cat could. “Love you too, sweetheart,” I said to him.
“Aww.” Ian tossed the towel on the bed. “Is he making fun of you?” Only took a few scratches on the head, and Lawrence demonstrated his surname by purring up a storm for Ian.
“There’s some clothes you can borrow.” I’d already dressed, as had Lydia. Not that Ian was slow or lazy, I’d just decided to go down on him before he crawled out of bed.
“Thanks. I’m okay with wearing my stuff from yesterday, but if we’re going to get an audience in the shop . . .”
Someone might notice he hadn’t changed and I didn’t want to hand Marlina another reason to give us grief, even if I was less worried about being out. I closed the distance and kissed him. “It’s fine.” He tasted of toothpaste and smelled of my woodsy shower gel, and I wanted more than his mouth. I craved the heat and passion of him fucking me until I couldn’t breathe.
He must have sensed my mood, because he placed a finger on my lips. “Don’t. We have to work.” He backed away and grabbed the jeans. “Bad enough that I’m going commando in your pants. Gonna be thinking about you all day.”
Oh, as if that would cool down my blood. I scratched Purrbody under the chin and was granted a deep rumble and a display of a tummy of white floof.
“Is it a trap?” Ian pulled on the simple black T-shirt and eyed the cat’s belly.
“No. Actually likes his stomach rubbed.” I demonstrated and those purrs got louder.
There were thumps up the stairs. “You guys about ready?” Lydia leaned against the doorframe, and my heart did a little flip. She was glowing and seemed happy, if a bit tired around the edges.
God, last night had been spectacular. The memory sang through my veins. Ian. Lydia. The cuffs. Her getting off. I had to be the luckiest guy alive.
“Yeah,” Ian said. “I have to get my shoes on.”
“Larry’s been distracting us.” I gave him a final pet.
“Poor neglected baby.” She pursed her lips at the kitty. “I should spend a few nights with him. I’ve nearly finished my freelance work, so I can take some time at home.”
A shuffle as Ian tied his shoes. He stood up and there was trepidation and worry in the line of his back. “I’m sorry I’ve disrupted everything in your life.”
“No, no.” Lydia strode into the room and took Ian’s hands. “God, no. You haven’t done anything. You’ve been nothing but a joy.”
He had, both in the shop and in bed. The sex had been wonderful, but I was also getting to live a piece of my dream working next to—and learning from—a real live Hollywood miniature set artist.
“I—” Ian seemed at a loss for words. Then he laughed and caught my eye before focusing on Lydia. “You two are something else.” He gave Lydia’s hands a squeeze, then dropped them. “We should probably get going.”
We left Mr. Purrbody lounging on the bed, trooped out to the SUV, and Lydia drove us into town. I sat in the front, and Ian in the back.
As the businesses started appearing along Main, Lydia asked, “Any objections to swinging by Stomping Grounds?”
“No!” Ian and I answered emphatically, practically at the same time, and Lydia laughed. Soon enough, we were in the shop and ordering our drinks. The barista gave Ian a raised eyebrow. “So now you’re bringing ’em in for coffee?”
