I’m whistling an impromptu melody as I flush the toilet, set down the seat for my female roomie, wash my hands and finger comb my hair. This is how I dry them and style this disaster.
Opening the door, I run smack into Marion.
She cries out, “Oh my God,” covering her eyes, peeking through her fingers down at my cock.
I’m a show-er not a grower. What you see is just about what you get, and it’s impressive.
I could cover up.
Leaning on the open doorframe, I decide I’d rather not, especially since she’s in cotton pajama pants with a dancing, pink pigs pattern under a white tank top. No bra. And her nips just winked at me.
I stretch my arm to hold the other side, relaxed, casual, and free as a man can be. “Morning.”
She is fixated on my cock, her pouty lips parted. That’s all he needs to wake up.
“He says morning, too,” I smirk.
“Do you always…sleep naked?”
“You don’t?”
She blinks up, and it turns out my smile is contagious. Her lips curve despite the flashing eyes. She’s trying desperately to remain cold and aloof as she demands, “Are you going to just stand there, or were you about to get dressed?” Flustered, she stammers with a grin, “Don’t you have somewhere you’ve gotta be, is what I’m asking!”
“Gym. Groceries. Back here. But here is nice right now. Who needs the gym? I’ve got some calorie burning ideas dancing in my mind just like those little piggies on your pj’s.”
She laughs as her eyes dart toward the ceiling before she covers them. “Wow, okay. Who needs coffee when you have a naked viking suggesting morning sex?”
I dryly reply, “Right? But you don’t drink coffee.”
Laughter bubbles out of her, a soft contrast to the caustic attitude she normally leads with. Marion’s got a bad case of the giggles, and it’s getting worse.
I’m grinning now, too, as she covers her mouth with the top of her wrist, looking at me before her fingers swipe the air between us to point out my immodest physique. “Seriously, Troy! Stop it. I have to use the bathroom, and this is…Please move. You’re rock hard now!”
“A woman laughing at him gets him going, I guess. He’s got no shame. Or modesty, apparently. Down boy! What’s that? You want a treat? Be careful, boy. This one’s got teeth she’s not afraid to use.”
This sets her off again and I start laughing. My ballerina is right. This is better than coffee.
And I rarely say that about anything.
Pushing off the door, I sweep my arm inside. “Before you make us clean up the floor.”
She giggles her way in, cast awkwardly thunking along.
It shuts and I’m standing here, grinning at it.
Looks like I’m going to crack her code. Wouldn’t mind her happy like this all the time. Feels good to be the cause.
Heading to my room, I hear the bathroom door open, and glance back.
She smirks, “I had to see if the rear view was as good as your headlight.” The door quickly shuts.
Chuckling to myself, I get ready for my day. I’m not dumb enough to think anything more will happen now. We broke the ice. Now I’ve gotta let it melt.
1 This scene happens in Logan & Samantha’s book, where Marion and Troy first appear: Cocky Best Friend, Book 21 in Cocker Brothers
Chapter Eight
Marion
I’m on the couch, reluctantly holding a slice of pizza he forced upon me. But that’s not what has me feeling flustered. Vulnerable, even.
I’m waiting for Troy to react to the story I just shared with him about how I broke my leg.
With just the crust left in his thick fingers, he’s staring at me like I’m a wounded bird. “That’s probably the worst story I’ve ever heard.”
I swallow and avert my eyes. His stare is too intense. It makes me self-conscious.
Why did Jack send this guy here? He said Troy was more my age. I do like him more than I wanted to.
Is this truly a set up?
I’m trying not to hope.
Or get too comfy.
Also, I can’t get my mind off of Jack, either. What is his motivation here? He felt the same attraction I feel—he admitted it! And there’s already love here, but it’s changed into something different now.
Or are we just friends?
What a confusing concept to get my head around—all of it!
Jack, Troy.
Troy, Jack!
Part of me is pissed off that he thinks I need setting up. The other part remains curious. Was his attraction really strong enough he had to toss this hot guy at me in order to save himself from touching me in ways he never has?
An alluring concept.
If I weren’t so damned sad every day, I’d be obsessed with the two of them. But as it is, I just want to be left alone almost all of the time. And you can really lose yourself in a good movie.
Troy won’t let that happen.
Not anymore.
Despite my hardest efforts to piss him off, he keeps taking care of me. It’s been a few days since I saw him naked, when he made me laugh so hard I almost lost my bladder. Since then he’s been considerate and kind of quiet, but insistent that I do something other than fade away.
I expected him to make a move on me — one I wouldn’t be ready for — but he didn’t. He cooked me delicious pasta at night, pancakes in the morning, and chatted me up about my past.
Reaching to touch my thigh, he shakes his handsome head. “Seriously, Marion, I’m sorry that happened to you.” The warmth through my cotton dress makes my blood quicken.
“It’s fine.” But it’s not fine, is it? The tears rushing to my eyes don’t think so. “Stop being so nice to me! You’re a stranger!”
“Marion…”
Wiping my eyes, I snap, “You are! And you’re so fucking kind. It’s annoying! What do you want from me? Jack wouldn’t be like this. He would tell me to get it together and stop being a cry-baby.”
Troy’s eyes fire up with jealousy. “Would you respond better to that treatment?”
My breath catches as I hold back sobs. “No!”
His envious frown relaxes. “You’re an enigma.”
“I’m complicated!”
“No shit.” Reaching for the tissue box that now lives on our coffee table, he hands it to me. “Here. So let me tell you a story from my youth to get your mind off of this. When I was a kid I had the worst acne. Junior high? I was a leper.”
Wiping my eyes, I smile, “No way. You have no scars.”
“Modern medicine I had to apply daily. I’ve got a couple here, though, look.” He leans in to show me. In so doing I get a whiff of his masculine scent. It’s not easy to sit back and nod that I see the evidence. He continues, “But the meds couldn’t get ahead of my hormones. I was so horny I went through five pair of socks a day.” He rakes his hair back. “My mom wondered why I had so much laundry.”
“What’d you tell her?”
“That my feet stunk from sports.”
“You played sports?”
“Baseball, soccer and football. Or if you’re in Europe, baseball, football and football.”