His Shortcake

Chapter 16

Tamara Ramirez

I refuse to acknowledge the amused smirk that still lingers on Dustyn's lips. My eyes drift around the room, carefully avoiding any direct glance in his direction. I'm determined not to let his gaze weaken me. But even my best efforts at maintaining composure can't stop Eros and his unfiltered curiosity.

"Did you two have sex?" Eros asks, his tone startlingly casual as he places a freshly made plate of pancakes on the table. He sits directly across from us, a devilish grin tugging at his mouth. "Dustyn's sporting that smirk again, and you—well, you haven't looked at him once," he points out, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Dustyn's laughter escapes him before he quickly masks it with a feigned cough. I roll my eyes in exasperation, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up my neck. His enjoyment of my discomfort is palpable, and I can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. "Something better, Eros," I manage to say, my voice strained.

Eros's gaze sharpens as he scrutinizes our expressions, searching for any telltale sign that might reveal the truth. His eyes widen suddenly, a look of realization dawning on him. "Did you give him a head?" he asks, almost with the eagerness of a child discovering a new toy. His voice rises in excitement, amplifying the discomfort in the room. "Did you?!"

I shoot him a withering glare, feeling a surge of irritation. The thought of throttling him crosses my mind, though I know it's an empty fantasy. Eros's mouth seems to have no filter, and his questions cut through the tension with brutal honesty. "No. Why would you even think that?" I retort, horrified by his audacious and inappropriate line of questioning.

Eros simply shrugs, his expression one of feigned innocence. "You're blushing like crazy, Tamara. It's a dead giveaway."

As if on cue, my hands flew to my cheeks, instinctively trying to shield the undeniable flush that has remained since the incident. "I didn't do anything sexual with him," I declare, my voice hard and unyielding. The mere mention of Eros's probing questions is starting to grate on my nerves, and my mood is only adding to the tension.

Eros's response is infuriatingly casual. "Well, if you won't tell me, I'll just keep thinking that you two did the dirty," he says with an infuriatingly smug smile. He punctuates his comment by shoving a piece of pancake into his mouth, chewing with exaggerated enjoyment. I roll my eyes in frustration and turn my attention to my own breakfast, determined to ignore both men.

No.

We did not have sex.

Let me explain.

When I woke up this morning, Dustyn's side of the bed was empty. I reached over to his spot, only to find it cold and unoccupied. Assuming he might have gone to see Eros or was already down in the kitchen, I groggily shuffled into the bathroom. My eyes were half-closed, barely processing my surroundings, until I caught a glimpse of something unexpected. My heart nearly skipped a beat as Dustyn's naked backside came into view.

Sitting on the toilet, I found myself staring, unable to look away from the sight of his sculpted back. He was completely engrossed in showering, his focus on washing his hair beneath the cascading water. His back was turned towards me, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from the sight of his defined muscles flexing with each movement. It was a new experience for me, seeing a man's naked body this close. Alec, my brother, would sometimes walk around in his sleeping pants, but it never stirred any reaction from me. With Dustyn, however, my heart raced uncontrollably, and my mind seemed to go blank, fixated only on his bare form.

I tried to convince myself that it was harmless. After all, I was just looking at his back, and maybe even his naked butt. But I quickly realized how wrong that reasoning was.