“Yes, yes, I would,” Wylde said, smirking, without even the least bit of hesitation about accepting it from me.
Finally!
My brain was screamingyes, yes, yesas he pulled it out and started tuning it up, while Payne finished taking a tour of the room like he was looking for the perfect place to start. At least he hadn’t run away screaming. If anything, the bright smile on his face had only grown when he’d seen the state of the cabin.
Alrighty then. It seemed like Wylde’d had the right idea after all.
“In that case, I’ll just be right over here enjoying the show,” I said, matching Wylde smirk for smirk as I settled into the easy chair and immediately jumped to my feet when I realized there was something hard and lumpy underneath the cushion. Shaking my head, I lifted it to reveal a portable charging block.
“Oh nice, I was looking for that,” Wylde said as he adjusted a string on the guitar.
“I can certainly see why you two need my services,” Payne said. “If you’d waited any longer to call, I’d have had to bring in a whole litter of kitties to help, and I think I’d much rather have you both all to myself.”
Whoa.
Sexy Kitty winked at me, and my brain went blank. Full stop, loud screech of tires as the brakes slammed on. I sat back down, missing the edge of the coffee table when I attempted to place the charger on it. I nearly bumped heads with Payne when we both bent to retrieve it. Then our flirty boy shook a finger at me, and I straightened up and let him retrieve it and place it where I’d intended to.
It earned me a smile, then with a smirk to rival Wylde’s, as Payne spun around in a slow circle, treating me to a view of that tail, which I reached out and stroked when it brushed my knee.
“Are there proper places for everything, or should I work that part out for you?” he asked.
“It all goes wherever you think it should go,” Wylde said as he worked his way down to the final string. “We’ve been too busy to get settled in properly.”
“We might be in need of regular services,” I added.
It was true, too. While the bulk of the mess had been specifically crafted so Payne could enjoy his fantasy, neither Wylde nor I had ever been the best housekeepers in the world. Our gear was about the only thing that was always perfectly maintained.
“He’s right,” Wylde said, “we’re much too disorganized to be left to our own devices.”
“Sounds to me like tidying up after the two of you could be a full-time job,” Payne said as he shook his head at the state of the room.
“It is if you’re available,” Wylde said.
“Don’t you want to see a demonstration of my skills first?”
Wylde chuckled, gently caressing the fretboard as he spoke. “Oh, we definitely want to see a demonstration ofallyou can do.”
“In that case, I’d better get to work,” Payne replied as Wylde started strumming the opening chords to, of all things, Warrant’s“Cherry Pie”.
Payne’s eyes grew wide, and he licked his lips, then that tail started swinging when he shook his ass to the beat as he bent to pick up the boots Wylde had left in the middle of the living room rug. His hips swayed as he sashayed over to the shoe tray by the door and placed them on it.
The best part was when he started singing, because he had a soft, sweet voice that meshed beautifully with Wylde’s. This was better than dinner and a show. There was a whole private concert going on, complete with a seductive dancer who was so into his work that after less than half an hour, progress was clearly noticeable and the seductive look on Payne’s face had morphed into one of serenity and focus. The longer I watched, the more I understood what he’d been searching for in this fantasy. He truly derived pleasure from the tasks he undertook. It was there, on his face, as he thoughtfully looked around the space, seeking out the best places to put things. I could almost picture him in the actual apartment Wylde and I shared on the Ranch, moving through each room with grace and ease.
Whoa.
Where had that thought come from?
For the second time that afternoon, the sound of brakes squealing echoed through my mind, followed by the opening chords of Wylde launching into “Pour Some Sugar on Me”like he was trying to hit every stripper song he knew.
Come to think of it, he knew a lot of them. Funny, but I’d never really paused to consider why that was. Had it been a conscious choice, or did he just like the cadence of them? Because personally, the tempo of Wylde’s playing mixed with the way Payne moved was doing it for me on every level.
“Hmm, this really should be in the kitchen, probably on a high shelf where it won’t be in the way of the everyday pans and dishes. The shelf looks kind of high, though. Do you think you can help me put it back where it belongs?” Payne asked as he picked up the pasta strainer and spaghetti scoop we’d brought over since spaghetti and meatballs was one of the few things we could cook without tragic results.
“I sure can,” I said, following him in there, Wylde’s eyes tracking our movements as we left the room.
Thanks to the open floor plan and his position on the couch, Wylde had an unimpeded view of me wrapping my hands around Payne’s waist, careful of his fluffy, flowing tail as I lifted him while he placed the colander and scoop on the top shelf.
As I lowered him back to the floor, I made sure to brush his backside down the front of my body before his feet touched the ground. The sound he made in the back of his throat could almost have been a purr, and the look he gave me when he tilted his head back meant the top of his ears rubbed over the front of my shirt. Still, I felt it as intensely as if he’d stroked his fingers over it, and that grin? I never wanted it to leave his face.