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I look down to see what’s so funny and nearly lose it.
Son of a bitch.
There’s a huge white spot on the crotch of my shorts. It doesn’t help that I’m hard as a rock too, because of what she’s wearing.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt. You could have said you were busy.”
“Funny. Get the hell in here so I can get these off,” I grunt.
She steps inside my apartment and looks around. “Nice place.”
“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” I dart toward the bedroom. “It’s paint by the way,” I call over my shoulder before shutting the door.
Last goddamn time I go paintballing with Jameson and Liam too.
“That’s what they all say,” she yells back.
When I come out, I’m dressed in a nice pair of jeans and a polo shirt. Raylynn gives me a whistle and motions for me to spin around.
“Forget it. You’re not objectifying me.” I grin. “And that paint. Ask Jameson what happened.”
She holds up her hands and snickers. “I’ll pass, but thanks.”
“You good to walk in those?” I point to her shoes. “We’ll need to take the subway.”
“These old things?” Raylynn lifts a foot. “I could run laps in these.”
“We’re not running laps, but I’ll take your word for it.”
She reaches for my shoulders and starts massaging the muscles. “Aww, you’re tense. Are you in a mood?”
I’m tense because she’s standing in my apartment looking like a whole damn snack, and I know nothing is going to happen besides a few drinks.
“Sweetheart, the only mood I’m in is the mood to get out of this apartment for a while,” I lie.
“Well then , let’s get the fuck out of here!” she cheers. “Ooo. Wait a minute. Harley Wagner , are you wearing a gun or are you happy to see me?”
“Christ, I’m tense, and you’re in a really good mood.”
“Seriously, are you wearing your gun?” I sigh and slip my keys into my front pocket. “Yes, Raylynn. I’m packing heat.”
“Well, that I knew.”
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About the 425 Madison Series
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