Page 38 of The Roommate Game
He bent his knees, swung his right leg forward, backward, and repeated the motion on the left. “Great.”
“Turn. Repeat.”
He obeyed, giving me an up close and personal view of his perfect ass, flexing and contracting. My mouth went dry as the fucking desert and let me tell you, the powdered sugar didn’t help. I coughed and tried to avert my eyes, but no…the show was too good, and it was just getting started.
Rita checked the fit at his waist, hiking Rafe’s top and exposing his lean, toned abdomen. His skin was smooth and unblemished, no tattoos, but of course my gaze locked on his happy trail and the prominent jut of his hip bones resulting in some serious V-lines. That right there was my downfall. I was a sucker for the sweet dip of contoured ridges pointing south, a.k.a. cum gutters. I swallowed hard, licking my fingers while giving myself a stern talking-to.
No perving, asshole. Rafe is your fucking roommate.
“Everything feels and looks amazing,” Rafe gushed, moving to the full-length mirror in the corner. “I was just wondering if it’s a little too snug in the crotch area.”
He splayed his hands over his junk and?—
Oh. Fuck me.I couldn’t do this.
“I,um…” I coughed, pointed at the tin and sputtered some more. “Need coffee. I’ll grab a couple of lattes and extra cream and sugar and…”
I was out the door before I’d finished my sentence, wiping beads of sweat gathered at my temple as I sucked in a gulp of air. The late March chill had the same effect as a bucket of cold water…thank God. Sure, it had been a few weeks since I’d gotten laid—or at least, since I could remember getting laid—but c’mon, this was a rather extreme reaction to a fully clothed man getting manhandled by a professional seamstress.
No, it couldn’t be the clothes or the hint of skin and muscles and a tight ass. It was Rafe. The way he moved was…seductive. I had a sudden urge to see him perform. I wanted to see that transformation in action—all that power and grace and beauty on ice. That had to be something special.
I returned to Rita’s shop with a tray of drinks, hoping they’d wrapped up their meeting. I’d taken my sweet time and made sure I had my head on straight.
It was okay to be attracted to Rafe. He was a good-looking guy and a genuinely cool person. He was exactly the friend I needed at the moment, and I wasn’t going to fuck it up by making something out of a hot kiss, a little friction, and a random peek at skin under a sequined top that looked like sex and salvation and?—
Okay, so…my chill had slipped a bit, but no one noticed. Rafe had redressed in his jeans and sweater and was chatting with Rita about his invoice.
“You pay what you can now and the rest later. It’s no problem,” she was saying.
“I’ll have the full amount next week if you’re sure that’s all right.”
She shooed him away, her eyes flicking to me in the doorway. “Ah, see…your friend has paid with coffee and a nice appetite. Take thekolachkiand go.”
Rafe hugged her, careful not to squish the plastic bag draped over his arm. “Thank you.”
I handed Rita her latte, thanked her for the cookies, and breathed a sigh of relief to be on the road again a few minutes later.
“The new Costco is in Haverton, just fifteen minutes away,” I pronounced, sliding into traffic.
“Oh…right. What do you want to buy other than corn dogs?”
“I dunno. Stuff.”
“Okay.” Rafe sighed happily as he stared out the window.
“What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing much. I’m just…in love with that costume. It’s sublime.” He twisted in his seat to face me. “I’ve had it for a few years, but it’s been slowly coming undone. I was lucky to find someone like Rita to save it from a mothball death. At a reasonable price, too.”
“I don’t get it. Doesn’t your team pay for your costumes?”
“Some amount, yes. Not all. This one is special, though. If the stars align, I’ll wear it for the Collegiate Championships tryouts. It’s a good luck charm, and I need it. I haven’t performed to a larger audience in a while,” he said wistfully.
“Your knee.”
“Ankle.”
I squinted at the glare from the Jeep sliding into my lane. “You sprained it, right?”