Eye of the Beholder

bodacious ass clad in black silk not five feet from her nose. His strong back was bent as he put his legs into his jeans. “Gah.”

He turned around so quickly she was surprised he didn’t fall over. “Are you all right? I thought you said you weren’t in pain.” His hand cupped her cheek, his expression concerned.

She squeezed her eyes shut again, but it was too late. The sight of his unfastened jeans was permanently etched into her retinas, the thick line of his cock lovingly outlined by the black silk. “I’m good.” Hell, I’m better than good. I’ve now got a month’s worth of fantasy material.

“Are you sure?”

She heard his zipper catching, then the snap of his jeans. “Yup.”

She thought she heard him stifle a chuckle but couldn’t be sure. “I’ll be back in a little bit, sweetheart.

You get some more rest, okay?”

“Okay.”

She waited until she heard the door to the bedroom shut before opening her eyes, staring at it in confusion.

Sweetheart?

 Travis left the bedroom with a smirk. Oh, yeah. She wants me. Now all I have to do is convince her she’s got me. The look of fascination when he’d turned around after practically shoving his ass in her face had been priceless.

He leaned up against the wall next to Jordan’s bedroom and put his ear to the wall. He couldn’t hear a sound. He gently rapped on the door. “Guys? I’m going into the kitchen to make breakfast.”

He counted under his breath. “Five, four, three, two…”

Someone started moving in the other room. With a quickly smothered grin he headed for the kitchen.

He was just laying the frying pan on the stove when a hand reached out and snatched it.

“Give me that.”

He turned to find a rumpled Logan, in blue jeans and a scowl, holding the pan.

“Move, Lefty.”

He moved. “What’s for breakfast, hothead? Habanero French toast?”

Logan glowered at him as he got out the eggs and bread. “Ha. Ha.”

Travis decided to take pity on him and start the coffee. “What did you three decide last night? Don’t tell me which one got to be on top, because I really don’t want to know.”

Logan’s leer was cheerful as he sniffed at the coffee. “We’re going to do to Jamie and Jeff what we did to Jordan.”

Travis stopped and glared at Logan. He could feel the mist trying to obscure his vision.

“Not that. Damn, and they call me perv. I meant we’re going to prove a few things the hard way.”

Travis flushed. He wasn’t used to this caveman feeling where a woman was concerned.

“Coffee?” Jordan stumbled into the room, yawning so wide he was surprised her brains didn’t spill out of her mouth.

“Morning.” He hid his smile behind his mug. Without missing a beat, Logan handed her a mug he’d placed on the counter. She shuffled past, yawning again, and filled the mug from the still percolating pot.

She had barely stopped to get dressed, merely throwing on one of her mens’ T-shirts and a pair of boxers.

Travis could see her breasts swinging freely beneath the shirt.

Not that he was looking or anything.

Okay, yeah, he was. He wasn’t dead, after all, just in love, and Jordan had a nice, perky pair.

“Morning, Jordan.” Travis stepped aside, giving her room to prop up next to the coffee pot.

“Morning, baby.” Logan moved past her to grab his own mug, planting an absent kiss on the top of her head as he did so.

“Are we having French toast?” Kir bopped into the room, that ever-present grin on his lips. His blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail. He’d decided to dress all in black today, with black jeans and a muscle shirt.

Travis watched as Kir and Logan greeted one another with a tender kiss. Part of him was astonished at how well the two men got along. Of all the Aesir, he would have would have thought Baldur and Loki would have the absolute least in common with each other.

Instead, they shared a love so pure it was dazzling.

Jordan watched the exchange as well, a soft smile flirting with her mouth. The two men turned toward her, pulling her into their embrace, and suddenly Travis felt like a voyeur.

He quietly left the room, hoping to give the three lovers some privacy, and settled in on the couch in the spacious living room. He put his mug down on the coffee table and dug up the remote for the big screen TV Kir had recently installed.

“Oh Jesus God, my eyes. I think I’ll go out for breakfast. And use some Lysol, lots and lots of Lysol, when you clean that counter, okay?” Travis turned to find Jeff, a disgusted look on his face, stomping out of the kitchen. Kir’s deep throated laughter followed him. “Yuk it up, dickwad, but people have to prepare food in there. The last thing I want to taste is food a la ass.”

There was a thump from the kitchen as Kir’s laughter turned breathless. Travis figured he’d collapsed again from laughter.

“Um.” Jordan stood in the doorway, looking deliciously disheveled, a wild look on her face. “Bring back donuts?”

Jeff glared at her. “I am not bringing home anything that involves holes. God knows what those pervs would do with it.” He shrugged into his jacket, the disgust still on his face, but Travis could see the laughter trying to break through. Thank you, Jeff. Laughter was much needed around here right now, and bless Jeff for providing it.

“Oh, God.” Jordan hid her face in her hands. Logan’s deep voice wafted from the kitchen. “Breathe, Kir. C’mon, blondie.”

“What the hell is going on out here?” Travis turned to find Jamie standing in her bedroom door. “Are they having sex in the kitchen again?”

Jordan fled, heading back into the kitchen, a horrified look on her bright red face.

Jeff just stared at his sister. “What do you mean again?”

“Oh God.” Jordan’s muffled voice was nearly drowned out by Kir’s renewed laughter.

Jamie rolled her eyes. “Oh, please, like you’ve never had sex in a kitchen before.”

“I am not discussing sex with my sister.”

“You were discussing it with Jordan. Hell, from the sound of things they practically gave you a freakin’ tutorial.”

“Oh God.”

“It’s a little late to be embarrassed now, perv.” Jeff yelled toward the kitchen. “And you!” He pointed at Jamie, shaking his finger at her. “I am not discussing sex with you.”

“Oh, please. You’re just pissed because you ain’t gettin’ any.” Not even the swelling of her face could dim the South Philly accent or attitude she was throwing.

Travis sank down on the sofa, covering his mouth with his hand. Too much more and he’d be joining Kir in a heap on the floor.

Jeff threw that attitude right back at his twin. “Oh, yeah? When was the last time you got some?”

All traces of amusement disappeared under Jeff’s teasing question. Jamie wasn’t seeing anyone that Travis was aware of, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t gone out and found someone to fool around with.

Jamie’s smirk had Travis damn near growling in a caveman-like display. “More recently than you, I bet.”

Travis’s hand clenched. What? He sat up and stared at the woman who was currently glaring at her twin. His eyes narrowed as a flush crept up Jamie’s cheeks.

“The closest you’ve come is Vincente.” Jeff batted his eyelashes at Jamie outrageously. “Oh, Vincente. ”

Travis’s jaw clenched. Who the fuck was Vincente?