Down for Her Melissa Chambers (bts books to read txt) 📖

dryer and then turn around, resting on it. He holds back a grin, and I do the same. I jerk a thumb toward the living room. “I’m just gonna go get the broom.”

“I’ll wipe down the tables and stuff in the living room,” he says, but neither of us moves.

I chew on my lip, looking down at my shriveled hands. “You’re really sweet to help me with this.”

“I have an ulterior motive,” he says, sliding his hands onto my hips. We’re face-to-face, but neither of us makes a move.

“At least you’re up-front about that.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he says, inching closer.

I can’t figure out what to do with my hands, so I finally rest them on his shoulders. It’s so weird. I can’t remember feeling these kinds of butterflies with Joshua or anyone else before him.

He leans in and kisses me again, but this time he doesn’t stop. We kiss, sweet and innocent at first, but it doesn’t take long for us to get exploratory. We fall into a heavenly bliss of mouths and my hands on his chest and his hands on my waist and my back. He presses against me, our body parts grazing one another’s, then he pulls away to kiss my neck, and then I kiss his scratchy jawline.

A shout from outside rocks me back to reality, and I pull away from him, my lips swollen and my body panting. “I’m gonna put in this other load of clothes.”

“Okay,” he says, his eyes dreamy as he steps back from me and heads into the other room.

As I put another guy’s pants into the washer, it dawns on me that what Brett needed in order to start something with me was separation. Whatever this is between us is brand spanking new. How could that work if we were in the same house? But now, he has the freedom to try something with me knowing we have our own space to exit to.

I sweep the floors while Brett wipes down everything and then follows after my sweeping with a mop. I’m so impressed by the fact that he’s completely fine with cleaning another guy’s house just so he can be with me. It’s pretty dang sweet.

We finish the floors and put up the broom and mop in the kitchen closet, and he gets that kissing look again. I grin, trying not to look at him. “I saw two sets of clean sheets in the hall closet. Do you want to help me make up the beds?”

“Yep,” he says and follows me down the hall.

We strip the beds and put on the clean sheets and comforters, then Brett tosses me onto Cohen’s bed. I let out a girly giggle that I never knew I had in me. We get started again with a make-out session, but it’s all very innocent. There are kisses full of grins, even some teeth knocking, plenty of teasing, and nothing that would devastate me if it was secretly recorded and blasted on socials.

The buzzer on the dryer sounds. “I need to go get that.”

He pulls me back to him. “Cohen can do his own damn laundry.”

“Not if I want his ten dollars.” I peck him on the lips and roll off the bed and onto my feet.

I gather the laundry and then dump the load onto Cohen’s bed. As we start folding, Brett meets my gaze. “It’s respectable, what you’re doing here.”

“Folding laundry?”

“Doing what you have to do to make it on your own and distance yourself from your old life. I imagine as a rich girl growing up on the slopes of Aspen, you probably didn’t have to take too many cleaning jobs in order to get by.”

“To be fair, I did have a very strenuous job at a high-end boutique when I was sixteen. How do you think I got to be such an excellent folder?” I display a T-shirt, draping it over my arm and motioning to it with my other hand.

Brett picks up a pair of Cohen’s boxers, realizes what he has in his hands, and then tosses them at me. “I have my limits.”

“Another man’s underwear? That’s your cleaning limit?”

“Yep.”

I fold them and start a pile when my text alert sounds. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and see that it’s Cohen.

How’s it going?

I type back.

Good. Everything’s done except your second load of laundry. It’s in the dryer. Will probably be another hour just waiting on that.

Cool.

I re-pocket my phone, and Brett eyes me, folding a resort-issued polo.

“That was just Cohen checking in.”

“Mmm,” he grunts, and we fold in silence a moment. “He got your number?”

Do I detect a hint of jealousy? “Yep,” I say, trying not to be weird.

He picks up a T-shirt and cuts his eyes at me. “Are you into him?”

I squint at him, holding back my grin. “Would you care if I was?”

He gives me a sly look without an answer, triggering a warmth to my center.

We finish folding and I find places for all the clothes in drawers. I turn around. “All done.”

He holds his hand out to me, and I take it as we stand face-to-face, staring into each other’s eyes, my whole body on alert down to my core.

“I’d care,” he says.

My pulse is sent racing. I’m not sure what to infer from those two words, but I’m okay leaving it at that.

“Good to know,” I say.

His mouth is on my neck and he’s leaving soft kisses with bits of tongue. My eyes close and my head falls back instinctually. He pulls away and I meet his mouth with mine, my hands cupping his substantial shoulders. He’s not buff like a bodybuilder or overly broad, but he’s solid.

I am barely aware of a door shutting in the distance when Brett eases away from me, pinching my hip with a cute little grin. I straighten myself, checking my body for any evidence of my wanton lust for this man.

We walk out to find Cohen and Logan in the living room inspecting the place.