However, everything else just left me reeling.
When he’d first stepped into the room, I’d expected an embarrassed apology and a quick exit. It wasn’t like he could claim he hadn’t known I wore panties and that I’d offended his delicate sensibilities or something, so it should have been a quick “my bad” and exit.
It hadn’t been.
My heart had started racing and dread washed over me as he’d walked in. I wouldn’t back down from shit or feel bad about what I liked, but he was sexy and sweet, and a reasonable roommate compared to a lot of the other ones. Not that a few hours counted for much, but nothing like I’d expected happened. He’d just stood there staring. Watching me with an almost hungry expression, and then, fuck—he’d licked his lips.
The way his eyes scanned down my body, I could almost feel his touch. When he’d reached down and absently adjusted his cock, mine about burst out of the panties he was staring at so intently. I thought he couldn’t get hotter, but when he finally met my gaze and gave me that sexy, befuddled expression, I wanted to take him in my arms…and spank him for walking in on me.
It was like the start to a Penthouse letter—except a gay one, with a Dom in panties.
There’d been a flash of fear for just a moment when he’d seemed to realize what he’d done, but by that point, yelling at him had been the last thing on my mind. There were other, much better alternatives. Especially for a guy who followed directions so beautifully.
The need to obey my orders seemed to cut through the haze and desire. And it had been desire. I wasn’t going to admit how long it’d been since someone had looked at me like that, but his reaction was clear.
Need.
Arousal.
Submission.
I still wasn’t even one hundred percent sure the guy was gay, much less a submissive, but for that one short moment when he walked over to get the key, then looked back at me in need of approval and instructions, that part had been perfectly clear.
That was probably a pretty good sign he was at least curious—but did he understand that?
I needed to back off. I knew that. But as I looked at the door, picturing him on the other side, I also knew it might be an impossible task. I didn’t want to ignore what had happened. I didn’t want to let him hide from it, either.
But for fuck's sake, why did the sexiest, most perfect guy have to be my goddamned roommate?
Staring and enjoying the view wasn’t the same as actually saying he was interested, though. I looked damned good in panties. But I couldn’t take it as a sign it meant anything else. Look but don’t touch, in this case, turned into looked but not really into touching. And just because he’d thought I was hot in the panties didn’t mean he was willing to submit.
There was no doubt that he’d respond to it, that was clear by just the limited number of instructions I’d given him. But there were some guys who thought submission was a form of weakness, and even though they wanted it, they wouldn’t let themselves have it.
Was Reece that kind of guy? I just didn’t know him well enough to even guess. Was he in his room berating himself for what had happened? Was he freaked that the gay guy in the panties was turned on? Not that he’d seen much, but still...
Finally pushing away from the dresser, I finished stripping off my panties and reached into the top drawer. They were sexy and comfortable, but with the erection I was sporting, I wasn’t going to run in lace. I had a feeling that would rub everything the wrong way, because it wasn’t going down anytime soon, that much was clear.
Getting dressed on autopilot, I kept one eye on the door. It was closed, but I couldn’t deny that some part of me wanted to see it open again. That was going to be a fantasy that would stick with me for far too long.
Eventually, I was going to have to figure out what to do. I could ignore the elephant in the room as good as the next guy, especially when I was usually the panty-wearing elephant in question. But I didn’t want to ignore his reactions. There was a huge part of me pushing to see where it went, but there was a small, very vocal piece that kept telling the rest of me to back the fuck off and give him some space.
Space, not running away—there was a difference.
Especially if he wanted more. I just had to figure out what more would look like to him. Tossing my clothes on the bed, I put my gym shoes on and headed for the door. There were so many questions running through my head, and so many things I didn’t know about him. Submissive? Gay? Straight? Curious? I was going to have to figure some of it out, just to be able to push him out of my head.
And I was really going to have to start locking that door—or at least shutting it all the way.
There was no point in scaring off a functional roommate if he was just surprised and not actually as curious as I thought he was. Hell, there was no way I was that wrong. He was curious…I just wasn’t sure about what.
As I walked by his door, I couldn’t help calling out. “I’m heading to the gym. Wait if you need help moving something.”
Maybe it came out rougher and more forceful than I’d intended; however, considering how hard I still was, that had to be expected. But it certainly didn’t account for the breathy, “Yes, Sir” that came from Reece’s bedroom.
Fuck.
What was he doing in there?
The images of what might be going on in his room followed me out the door as I tried to get my raging erection under control. I might not get arrested for indecent exposure, but there was no way I could work out while I was as hard as I was. Unfortunately, I had a feeling it was going to be a common problem in the weeks to come. At least, until I could figure shit out.
****
Exercise hadn’t helped. If anything, I was more frustrated and confused than when I’d left. Running worked my body, but it left too much room in my brain. I’d tried to focus on work and the reports I needed to go over, but it wasn’t any use.
By the time I got home, my cock was under control, but everything else in me was running in circles. Walking in, I let the door swing shut and headed back toward the bedrooms. Reece’s bedroom door was open, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
His room looked good. The furniture was solid wood and didn’t look straight out of the dorms, but his bed was slightly off from the wall, and the nightstands were on the opposite wall. He was clearly still organizing, but at least he’d followed directions and waited for help to move the furniture.
Telling myself it didn’t mean anything that he’d followed my instructions, I headed toward the kitchen. Thinking back, I couldn’t remember if I’d seen a car in Reece’s spot in the garage. As I got closer to the kitchen, I heard Reece talking to himself.
“No, that won’t work. It’ll be too hard to grab when I need it.” There was some low grumbling that I didn’t understand, but then I smiled as I heard, “Just a few more fuckin’ inches. Would that have been too much to ask for?”
Yes. Especially since I liked the way he looked.
Walking up to the door, I leaned against the frame and watched as he bent over, sorting through a box. He hadn’t been kidding about wanting space in the kitchen. My empty cabinets had probably been the only thing that he’d been interested in.
“You’re only interested in my kitchen, I knew it.” I was teasing, but he jumped up and blushed.
“I, um, I’m sorry about—”
I knew what he was going to say, so I jumped in. Not wanting the awkward apology, I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it. I need to remember to close the door better.”
“If you’re…” He trailed off, clearly not sure what to say.
“I’m sure.” Trying to change the subject, I glanced down at the boxes. “You weren’t kidding when you said you had kitchen stuff.”
He laughed and shrugged, finally starting to look more at ease. “I like to…I’ve had fun cooking for my past girlfriends.” Reece blushed faintly, clearly embarrassed by something.
Girlfriends meant straight. But the way
he’d looked at me left questions about that.
“Well, if you need someone to eat the leftovers, I’m your guy.” I smiled as he glanced around, giving me a you’re-kidding look.
“I might need to get a few things cleaned up first. Some groceries would probably help too.”
“Yes, I’m not sure I have enough to make a real meal. The leftover Thai food is still good if you’re hungry.” I laughed as Reece grimaced.
“That’s just wrong. Thai food is easy to cook. There’s no reason to order out for it.” He looked at me like I was a teenager eating take-out pizza for every meal.
I snorted; his horrified expression was too cute. “It is if you have no idea how to make it, and even less desire to learn.”
He sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll make it for you. Having you order out like that would just make me crazy.” He started to reach back down into the boxes. “Once I get everything put away, I’m going to go to the grocery store. Is there anything else you want?”
Watching his ass push out, filling his jeans temptingly, it was hard to stay focused on the conversation. Why talk about groceries when there were other, more tempting things to eat? “I like Italian.”
He straightened, glancing at me as he took something that looked like a blender over to the cabinet. “Let me guess, lasagna?”
I was in love.
“Yes.” I gave him my best, I’m-so-innocent smile. “I like lasagna.”
He just laughed. “You don’t look as innocent as you think you do. But yes, I’ll make you lasagna. We need to get some tomatoes if I’m going to make the sauce, though.”
“Doesn’t sauce come in jars?” Why in the world would he make it?
I was serious, but he grabbed his heart dramatically like he was having the TV version of a heart attack. “That’s a horrible thing to say to someone!”
“So, I shouldn’t tell you that I have one that’s frozen and just needs to be popped in the oven? Those little plastic trays they come in are handy.” His nose scrunched up like he’d smelled milk that had gone bad before I’d even finished.
“Absolutely not.” Reece started emptying out boxes faster. “That’s not going to work at all. Yes, big grocery shopping trip it is.”
I wondered what he’d cook me if I told him I’d eaten out most of the week. “You know, it’s been years since I had fried chicken that didn’t come from a drive-thru.”
Laughing, Reece started shaking his head. “You’re terrible.”
I grinned and straightened. “Is it going to get me fried chicken?”
“Maybe.” His smile said yes, so I ignored his verbal answer—I was going to get fried chicken.
And I was going to have to go to the gym a lot more often. Moving toward the boxes, I looked around. “I might not be able to cook, but I can help unload. And I’m going to help pay for the groceries. It’s only fair.”
“I’m going to let you, because I have a feeling you’re going to keep me hopping in the kitchen. Next thing you know, it will be cheesecake this and homemade bread that.” He squatted down distractedly and reached into the box to hand me something that looked like a cheese grater on steroids. “Will you put this over in that cabinet?”
I took the contraption but gave him a long look before I started to walk toward the shelf. “Homemade bread?”
“You’re going to be a handful, I just know it.”
I might be a handful, but if anyone was going to be driven crazy, it was me.
Chapter 8
Reece
“I swear to God, if you post one more half-naked blog rant about him tonight I’m going to kill you myself. You won’t have to worry about Roman doing it first.” Okay, maybe it was a little mean, but Eli was driving me crazy. “So help me, if you try to crash this site one more time when I’m supposed to be off work, I’ll talk to Preston about all this shit.”
“But—” Eli seemed contrite, but I had to remind myself he’d looked sorry the last two times we’d had the same conversation.
“No. I’m done with it. I’ve had to cancel plans and rearrange too many things lately. I even have a kitchen now, but you’ve had me working such crazy hours that I’ve eaten fast food the last two nights. Houston is starting to pout. If I have to cancel his lasagna tonight, he’s going to be impossible to live with.” If that sounded too much like we were in a real relationship, I was going to ignore it.
Eli either missed the underlying tone of the statement or was too dejected to care. “You love him more than you do me.”
His pouting tone didn’t make me feel sorrier for him. “That only works when you’re sleeping with someone. Try again.”
“You’re no fun.” Eli sighed and sank back into the chair, surprisingly fully dressed. It was weird.
Between his normal photo shoot behavior and the bet, I’d gotten used to him running around in just panties. Watching him walk into my office in jeans and a T-shirt made me want to cross myself and start planning for the apocalypse. “Because I’m tired. I’m serious, Eli.”
I was promised a forty-ish hour work week, not sixty-ish.
“I’ll behave.” He gave me a sincere smile, but I was too smart to fall for it—again.
“Just wait a few days. Then you can post again. By that time, I’ll have everything updated and we’ll be able to host a Ticketmaster event without crashing the site.” Preston had finally given the okay for an even bigger upgrade than we’d initially planned. There was no way around it.
Traffic to the site was twice what it had been even three months before, and he knew it was due to Eli’s almost daily rants. If Eli’s gawkers were just looking, then Preston would’ve had more issues with the problems, but Eli’s fans were buying what Preston called spoils of war to support Eli in his fight with Roman.
When Roman said Eli was a moron for taking bets from online strangers, Eli crashed the site again and sold out of the panties he’d been wearing when he made his ranting video post. When Eli had gone on to win the bet—that I still didn’t think Roman really understood—his followers had donated almost five thousand dollars to the LGBT youth center to protest Roman.
I was just tired of all the insanity.
I had a beautiful kitchen waiting for me and a sexy man who was desperate for me to cook for him, and I was stuck cleaning up Eli’s mess. “No more posting after hours. I don’t care how much you’ve had to drink or what Roman said. I’ll freeze your blog at night if I have to.”
I sounded like a parent grounding their teenager, but that was kind of how I felt. My “teen” was in the middle of a bad breakup with a guy he wasn’t even really dating, and we were all suffering because of it.
But if those two didn’t get their shit together, I was going to lose my mind.
Eli finally sat up, insulted. “That’s just mean.”
“You’ve forced my hand. If you’d followed the rules, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” I was officially my mother.
“But—”
“Nope. I’m done.” Yup, I distinctly remembered hearing that come out of her mouth as well. “Now, I am going home, and so are you. Stay off the computer. Find something on TV and order in takeout. No blog posts or pictures or work or anything else you’re juggling. Take the night off.”
As many hours as I worked, it always felt like Eli was doing more, so he had to be burning the candle at both ends. He must have finally understood I was serious because he slouched back in the chair and nodded. It was frighteningly un-Eli-like, and taking him to the doctor was not off the list. Maybe he was coming down with something.
Yup, my mother.
It couldn’t have been my dad, who would have told him to suck it up and move on. Shaking my head to get the mental image of my parents out, I stood up. “Go home.”
Forcing him to stand, I herded him to the door. As we walked through the studio, Eli finally started to look better. “Netflix and a pizza from that new place sounds good.”
“The one with the weird
toppings?” We’d gotten menus for a new pizza restaurant dropped off earlier in the week, and some of the combinations had been startling.
“Yeah, I’m going to try something new.” His smile widened. “If it sucks, then I’ll have ice cream for dinner.”
Eli had the metabolism of a hummingbird; some days I hated him. “Sounds like a perfect dinner. If the lasagna turns out, I’ll bring in leftovers tomorrow if I can wrestle them out of Houston’s hands. I put stuff in the crockpot this morning to make homemade sauce, and it’s probably driving him crazy.”
Eli laughed and waggled his eyebrows. “You’ll enjoy wrestling him for it.”
That was not the point. Ignoring the comment, I headed over to the stairs and started for the front door. When Eli started to detour toward the main offices, I stopped. “Go home, Eli.”
He waved off my concern. “I just have a few things to do before I can go. Paperwork stuff, nothing on the blog, I promise.”
Eli seemed genuine, so I nodded. “Alright, but quickly, and then go home. You’ve been working too much.”
“I won’t make extra work for you. Not when you want to please your maybe-master.”
He sucked. “He’s not my anything. Just my roommate who I’m still trying to butter up so I don’t have to move out anytime soon. Big kitchen and bedroom and low rent, remember?” I did not want to move.
Eli laughed. “He’s so into you.”
“He wants a free dinner.” At least, that was all I thought he wanted.
“Go have fun with your roommate.” Only Eli could make that sound dirty.
Throwing up my middle finger while he nearly giggled in the background, I headed out of the office, pleased that he seemed to be back to his old self. I just needed one full night off with no crazy emergency calls from Eli or Preston about the site.
One night to hang out with Houston and maybe get to know what else he was into besides work and the gym…like bondage, discipline…hobbies like that.
****
Houston met me at the door. “It’s going to have to be against the rules to leave something like that in the kitchen all day. The smell is distracting.”
Houston Page 6
