The Summer Deal

Twenty - I'm not picky like you

His strong masculine scent mixed with citrus cologne fogged my senses and drove me to the edge of insanity on how he touched me and how warm and electrifying he felt pressed up against me. I hadn't felt like this in a long time, and I didn't want it to stop.

"Noah," I managed a breathless whisper. I raised the bowtie to him. "Try this one last time."

Something snapped between us, and he pulled away from me to the opposite corner, crossing his arms. The room was big enough for four people to stand freely, and thankfully, Noah realized the importance of personal space before one of us did something the other person was not entirely sure of.

I picked up a white shirt that was carelessly discarded on the floor, and I motioned him to take it from me. He didn't. So I closed the distance between us, once again disregarding the importance of personal space, and nearly dropped to my knees at the sight of firm, ridged muscles covered in a perfect amount of chest hair.

Noah Jordan was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He had tiny battle scars here and there, but what fascinated me the most about him was a round scar right below his left pec. It was a bullet wound, and I wanted to know the story behind it. I wanted to know about every tiny scar he had.

Maybe later. I shook the thought off my mind. I had some other pressing matters to attend to.

"Hands straight," I commanded in an authoritative tone. He dropped them to his sides instantly. I draped the white shirt over him from behind, bringing myself closer to him than I already was. "Right hand in."

Maybe I was crossing a line by running my hand on his right arm as he wore the sleeve, feeling the texture of his skin under my skin.

"Left hand in."

He followed my command obediently, and I did the same with his left arm until I was satisfied with my own guilty pleasure, then pulled the center part of the shirt to his chest, unintentionally brushed my hand on it, and began buttoning him from his waist to neck.

"I know I'm difficult to be with," I began as I took my own sweet time to button up his muscled abdomen. "I won't change anything about it, so you better suck it up if you still want to stick with me and watch me suffer from work sickness."

The small circles he drew on my arms nearly made me crazy. Crazy for him. "Like homesickness?"

I ran a single finger from the base of his neck, stopping right above the tag chain he wore around his neck, and watched him shudder underneath it. "You can say so," I buttoned the rest of the shirt. I pulled up his collar and wrapped the bowtie around his neck, yanking him down to my height till our noses touched and our eyes met.

I was not a fan of gems and jewelry. I owned no set of diamonds. No gold. No silver.

But if I ever find a color matching Noah's eyes of this exact moment between us, I'd spend millions and billions of pounds to wear it every day.

I wet my lower lip in a quick sweep of my tongue. "So you have never worn a bowtie before today, right?"

He nudged his nose with mine. Twice. Oh, boy.

"That won't be a problem anymore..." I said as I tied a simple knot on his neck and pulled it tight. Noah made a slight choking sound and the growing tension between us dissipated into thin air. I giggled when his eyes bulged out and loosened the knot. "Oops. Sorry." Not. "That was too tight. I'm out of practice here. I promise this is your last." I made another knot and turned it into an almost perfect bow. I patted his arm. "Turn. Face the mirror."

"This one isn't so bad," he commented as he posed like a model in front of the mirror. He flexed his muscles, blew himself a kiss, and styled his hair with his fingers. "I might actually buy this one for myself if I didn't hate it so much."