“Yeah, it’s fine. But it’s Viola’s dog. She’ll take care of him when she’s around and then…” He slips his hands into his front pockets and shrugs carelessly. “I’ll take care of him until she’s back.”
I watch as Drew furrows his brows at Travis, trying to read his intentions. “Something weird is going on.”
“Drew, c’mon. You know I’ve wanted a dog forever.” I keep my eyes locked on his, knowing he’ll cave any second.
He inhales through his nose, and I watch as his chest rises and falls with a deep sigh. “Fine, whatever. But I’m not picking up any dog poop. I deal with enough shit at work. I don’t need more of it when I come home.”
I smile in victory but hide it behind Gryff’s head. I know Travis and I dodged another bullet with Drew, but now isn’t the right time to tell him.
“Are your clothes in the wash, Vi?” Drew asks from the kitchen. “I need to throw a load in.”
“Just set it down by the washer, and I’ll throw it in after I change mine over.”
“Okay, thanks. I’m going to hit the gym for a couple of hours then.”
I nod, and he disappears into his room for a few moments before he resurfaces in his workout clothes. “Fuck!”
I nearly jump from the couch and run down the hallway when I spot Drew standing in front of a pile of dog poop. “Oh, no.” I pick Gryff up and hold him close to my chest. He’s shaking. “He didn’t mean to. He’s just nervous.”
Drew walks around me without saying another word, and I know he’s already unhappy about the puppy. He heads down the hall, and I exhale as I hear the bathroom door click shut.
“I’ll clean it up, princess. Don’t worry. Drew’s been an emotional mess the past couple of weeks. It’s not you.”
It may not be me, but I can think of a certain someone who is probably the cause of all his pent-up aggression. Mia.
Once Travis cleans up the mess and sprays the carpet, he calls me to the kitchen. I hear him banging around pots and pans, and I can’t help but wonder what the hell he’s getting into now.
“I know you said you didn’t want anything of mine near your mouth, but I make a really kick-ass pasta dish.”
“A puppy and dinner?” I ask with a smug smile. “You sure know the way to a girl’s heart, don’t you?”
He cups my cheek and pulls me in, so our mouths are just barely touching. “Just yours, Viola.” He presses his lips to mine for a deep, passionate kiss. “You were always the girl.”
“And you were always the boy, Travis King.”
He wraps his arms around my waist and attacks my mouth with his tongue and lips. I take everything he’s offering and more.
“Let’s skip dinner,” he whispers against my mouth. “I’d much rather have dessert instead. What do you think?”
“Too much dessert in your diet isn’t a healthy balance,” I say.
“Since when have I cared about a healthy balance?”
I laugh and press my palms against his chest to push him away. “Drew’s home,” I remind him. “In fact, I should probably be cursing you out or something before he walks back in here.”
“Or we could just tell him?” He arches a brow.
I drop my shoulders and frown. “You know how that would work out if we did it right now?”
“Oh, c’mon. He’ll get one good punch in, and then—”
“Travis!” I scold, and he laughs. Asshole.
“He always takes long showers after work, so we have some time to kill.” He brushes loose strands of hair behind my ear and smiles.
“Good. Then you can make that dinner,” I say.
He groans, adjusting himself. “How the hell am I supposed to cook with this distracting me?”
“Hmm…” I pinch my lips together, pretending to ponder it. “How can we remedy this little situation?”
I kneel and start undoing his belt. I can feel how hard he is underneath the fabric of his jeans. I stare up at him, still shirtless, and study the tattoos that cover his arms and chest. I want to lick my tongue all the way up his body and suck on every design, but I stay focused on getting his jeans undone instead—for now anyway.
Once I successfully strip him out of his jeans and boxer shorts, I palm his cock and begin stroking. He nearly stumbles at the first touch, and I know I’m the only one in charge right now.
“All right, chef. Get started.”
“What? Right now?”
“Yes.” I turn my back against the oven, and he turns to face me so I can suck the tip of him. “You cook. I’ll get started on dessert.”
“Fuck, Viola,” he hisses when I slide my tongue along his shaft. “You really want me around sharp knives and a hot stove when you have my dick in your mouth?”
I nod, running my tongue along the edge of his tip as it twitches from the warm, teasing contact.
“You realize I’ll end up cutting my damn hand off or something.”
“Then I suggest you be extra careful.”
“No way.” He moans, leaning his hands on the stovetop and sliding his dick deeper into my mouth.
I pull him out and tease him once again, watching as he nearly crumples over me. “C’mon, King. You don’t want to play?”
“Goddammit, Viola,” he hisses, knowing exactly what kind of game I’m talking about. “Fuck, princess. Your mouth is fucking perfection.”
“Don’t forget the rules,” I say, reminding him of our little game. “You come before dinner’s ready, you lose.”
“Sounds more like a win to me,” he says smugly, trying to control his breathing.
“And if you don’t, you get to come somewhere else…” I drawl, lingering my words because he knows exactly what I mean. The only reason I agreed to those terms is because I know Travis King well enough to know he’ll never be able to hold off that long.
“Game on, princess.”
Chapter 12
Travis
Drew strides back into the dining room just as I’m setting the table. I can tell something’s bothering him by the way his features tighten up and how he brushes his hand through his hair. I know he’s been talking about Mia a lot lately, but he hasn’t really said much about her since the last time he told me they spoke.
“What’s going on?” Drew asks, nodding his head toward the table.
“I have some food in the oven. You want some?”
“You made dinner?” He arches a brow in disbelief.
“Yeah, Viola said she was hungry, so I put something together.”
He pulls a chair out and sits down. “Since when can you cook?”
“Since now,” I fire back. “You going to eat or drill me all night?”
“Sorry, man. Mia is driving me nuts.”
“I thought you two were going to talk or something?”
“Well, we were, but she won’t tell me anything until we’re face-to-face, and just by the tone of her voice, it doesn’t sound good.”
I pinch my lips together, knowing exactly what Mia should tell Drew, but knowing her, she’ll twist it around somehow and play the victim.