Mouth open, body slack, completely and utterly shamelessly staring at him.
I’ve never seen anything so sexy, so erotic, so tempting, so terrifying.
Emmett has no need for sheets. Or pajamas for that matter.
He’s completely naked, taking up the whole king-sized bed with the sheets twisted around his muscular leg. The corner stops over his package, barely hiding it. His pubic hair isn’t hidden though and neither is his hard pelvis that looks like it was carved by a master sculptor trying to make the perfect male sex doll.
His abs are on full display, lit up with the glow of the moon shining in through the window. He didn’t even close the curtains. We’re on the fourth floor and people can see in, but I guess when you look like that, you don’t care. Hiding this gorgeous view from people does feel like a crime against humanity. It’s selfish, really.
My mouth waters as I look at his big muscular chest. I’ve never understood why men have nipples since they don’t do shit, but it’s all making sense now. Emmett’s nipples are a gift that evolution provided for us all. I can’t take my eyes off them.
I continue my peep show, dragging my thirsty eyes up his muscular neck with the perfect length of stubble on it. If I was a vampire, I’d go for him. I’d love to sink my teeth into that stunning jugular.
His face… What can I say about his face? If I had to describe it, I’d need to become a poet. Regular words could never do it justice.
I’m no poet, but in elementary school I was known to write a mean haiku. I can feel one coming to me…
Face like a damn dream
Gets me all squishy inside
Can I sit on it?
It won’t win any awards, but if you saw him, you’d understand. Believe me, it’s fitting.
He stirs on the mattress, purring like a sleeping lion as his head moves and his arm drops down.
I gasp. My chest tightens. I’m a helpless little deer that just stepped on the sleeping lion’s tail. If he wakes up and sees me standing here gawking at him like a total perv, I’m fucked.
My feet move on their own. I’m tiptoe running all the way back to my room.
I hurry in and close the door without a sound.
Oh man. I’m trembling all over…
I stand in my room and try to compose myself as the image of him lying there in the nude replays over and over in my mind. It’s seared into my brain and I couldn’t be happier for that.
It might be the only time I see him.
Because again, I’m never leaving this room.
It’s so clear to me now.
I can’t.
Pathetic fawns don’t frolic around lions.
And pale overweight shut-ins don’t frolic around men like that.
It’s true.
I don’t make the rules.
It’s science.
Chapter Three
Lindsay
* * *
“Did somebody order a wet dream?” I ask as I strut to Emmett’s room in stilettos and a sinfully hot piece of lacy lingerie.
He turns his head and curses under his breath when he sees me, elbow up on the doorframe and hand on my jutting hip.
I have a cigarette in my mouth for some reason even though I only tried smoking once in the ninth grade with my cousin. I threw up in my aunt’s car later. But it looks super hot and badass dangling from my lips, the smoke curling sensually around my body.
It definitely gets Emmett’s attention. Those lickable abs flex and ripple as he sits up, rubbing his eyes to make sure this is reality.
“You’re awake, big boy,” my raspy voice husks out like a thirty-year smoker. “This is your dream, but also reality.”
I strut into the room and his eyes widen as he takes me in. My soccer coach from seventh grade is sitting in the corner watching us, which is weird, but at the same time, doesn’t feel weird at all.
“Let me tell you the rules of the apartment,” I say as I toss down my cigarette and grind it thoughtlessly onto the hardwood floor. “Rule number one. No clothes for you. Ever.”
He nods his head as he gawks at me in awe.
“Rule number two. You shower with the door open,” I tell him as I strut up to his hot sexy body. “I want to sit on the toilet and watch.”
Oomph. That sounded sexier in my head.
But he doesn’t seem to mind. He’s totally turned on as his eyes move up and down my hot lingerie.
“Rule number three. Don’t leave the dishcloth in the bottom of the sink. Seriously, I hate that shit.”
He nods, taking a mental note. He really is the perfect guy.
“Rule number four. Three orgasms a night.”
He reaches for me as I drop my knee on the mattress beside him, about to straddle his strappingly powerful body. Just as his strong hands are about to touch my skin, I jerk awake.