Page 104 of Gin and Lava

Not thinking about it.

Naomi will need to hire a photographer and a model. Of course, Naomi is gorgeous enough to wear her own work and sell it, but I know she’d hate that. Maybe I can ask Esme in LA if she knows how one finds models and sets up a photoshoot. If we start with some good pictures and some fancy copy, we could start Naomi’s jewelry with an Instagram account. Start small. Build.

I shoot off an email to Esme, then I open up one of those build-your-own freebie websites and start playing around with colors and fonts. I pull in some of the photos from Pinterest as placeholders, just to help Naomi get a sense of what a website could look like.

I keep playing around until the night starts to lighten and a shimmery blue color starts peeking through the palm trees. That color is in a lot of Naomi’s pins. It’s a Viking Princess blue that’s both sky and ocean.

Maybe I fall asleep.

Maybe I think about that kiss.

All I know is I wake up with Naomi snuggled against my chest and the sun is blazing through the screen windows. There’s a tiny bit of drool on her pillow, which on her is endearing. I brush the blonde hair out of her face, and get that eerie feeling Trifecta is watching us from the living room. I lift up an arm and flip him the bird, smirking when I hear him grumble and shuffle off to the bathroom. Asshole.

Naomi stretches, pressing her tits against me, and it takes all my willpower to keep from running my hands all over her body.

“Morning, Princess,” I whisper, and she smiles with her eyes closed like this is the most comfortable place in the world.

That shouldn’t get me hard, but …

It’s morning, these things happen.

Naomi’s nose nuzzles against mine. “Is that what I think it is?” she asks softly, adjusting her hip so her thigh presses against my erection.

“In my defense,” I reply, “you tore all your clothes off in the night. Getting hard is a biological certainty when you’re not wearing—”

“What?” Naomi looks down in surprise, only to find herself still clothed. She spears me with a frown, and grumbles, “Low, Haas.”

“I’m sorry, but do you call that tiny tank top and shorts clothing? You’re not going to walk into the kitchen wearing that little, are you?”

“You’ve seen me in a bikini,” she counters.

“Also sinful. Also not something you should wear in public.”

“Don’t you wish we had our own room?” she tosses back flippantly.

“Don’t you wish you had fifty pins on one of your boards,” I reply with equal sass.

Naomi shrugs. “I’m not the one with the erection.”

“True.” I roll away from her and press myself into the deflating mattress.

“There’s a bathroom just past the kitchen.” Naomi points through the window.

“And it just so happens to have Trifecta in it.”

“Did he see your—?” Naomi’s eyes widen.

I scowl. “Yes, Tate. I rolled over you while you were asleep, got up and slapped him in the face with my cock. What do you think?”

“I think this airbed is way too public.” She eyes me again.

“You made the sleeping arrangements.”

“An unfortunate fact.” She frowns. “Oh, and by the way,” she lowers her voice. “I went to the clinic, and I’m on the pill, and I’m clean. So when wearesomewhere more private …”

“Are you trying to get me to ditch my no glove no love policy?”

“Only if you’re clean, Mason.”

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