Sold to the MC Men

She was thinking of taking care of them even when she wasn’t around.

He stood close by watching her ladle out meat sauce, pasta sheets, cheese, and some kind of white sauce. His cooking ability extended to being able to pick up the phone and ordering a pizza.

He watched her finish one lasagna and move to another.

She didn’t stop until there wasn’t enough sauce left.

“I’ve got to leave them to cool, and then I’ll put the final cheese on top, and stick them in the freezer when they’re ready.”

She picked up the pots, and he admired the length of her. Her ass was so curvy, he wanted to touch her to see just how fucking juicy it was.

It looked like the kind of ass you could sink your teeth into and have a lot of fun with.

He had to resist. He couldn’t make her nervous.

“So, I was wondering, do you have a boyfriend back home?” he asked. If she did, he wouldn’t understand why she was still a fucking virgin. This woman was built for sex. He couldn’t wait to finally make his claim on her.

“No. I wouldn’t have had a reason to go hunting for my mom if I had some place else to go. I’ve never had a boyfriend.”

“Never?”

“Nope. It just never seemed the right time. I’ve gone on dates, and made out a couple of times, but whenever he wanted to take things further, I always backed out. I didn’t feel comfortable.”

“You shouldn’t ever do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

She giggled, wiping her hands on a towel. “What about you, Dig? You ever done anything to make you uncomfortable?”

“Not a thing. There’s nothing in this world that could possibly make me.”

“Wow, that sounds like a challenge.”

“No challenge. Just fucking real, babe.”

He loved her smile. He preferred it when she smiled, as opposed to the sadness he’d caught in her gaze that first day.

“I better go and check on your room. Please make sure no one eats the lasagnas. They won’t be good. The pasta’s not cooked and needs some time in the oven, but I’m freezing them.”

“Will do.”

He watched her leave the kitchen, admiring her ass. Sitting down on the chair, he stared at the door.

How could he move it to the next level? She wasn’t a whore. She shouldn’t be ordered to do things, and the guys, well, he knew for a fact each one felt something for her, be it lust or a connection.

Even Tank had a thing for her. In all the years he’d known Tank, not once had that fucker even shown himself to blush. A couple of hours in Leah’s company and he was stumbling over himself to impress her. It was crazy. They were all crazy for her.

“What’s up?” Junior asked, entering the kitchen.

“What’s up?” Dig frowned at the youngest of them all. It’s why Junior was named as such. There were only two years between Tank and Junior, but there were times the man before him had a personality of a teenager. “You can’t eat them. They’re to go into the freezer.”

“Where’s our special houseguest?” Junior asked, licking his lips.

He knew Dig was after more than food, already snagging a piece of brownie. “Cleaning my room.”

“Damn, did she offer?”

“Pretty much. She’d cleaned everything, and we’re running out of things for her to do.” He’d never known someone work so damn hard. She was constantly doing something. It was only at night where she’d disappear to her bedroom that she even relaxed. Knowing Leah like they did, she was probably cleaning some part of her room or something.

“Well, I’m going to go and see how she’s doing,” Junior said.

“You’re not going to my room.”

“I don’t have to enter your room to lure her into mine.”

Son of a bitch!

****

“You have got so many clothes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen this many outside of a department store,” Leah said.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s not. It just means you’re a guy that likes variety, I guess. I don’t know. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” She shrugged.

Junior sat on the edge of his bed, looking at the closet. For years he’d buy something and dump it in the closet. He only ever wore the same couple of shirts and jeans.

He watched as Leah began to work through the piles of crap he actually owned. She folded each shirt up, placed them in a pile, and did the same with jeans, pants, socks, and even ties. Why had he even bothered with ties? There was one with a bunch of Santas on it. Why would he buy that? He knew he had.

“If there’s anything you’d like, you can take it,” he said. He rather liked the idea of her wearing something of his. She’d look good in one of his shirts.

He’d caught her yesterday, after Dig told him of course, cleaning his room. He stayed true to his word and didn’t enter the man’s room.