“I hope not,” Titus said, making me realize I’d asked the question out loud.
“Oh! Wait.” I pushed away from him and scrambled to my feet beside the bed. “I have a surprise for you. An outfit just for you. It was supposed to be part of my grand gesture, but then you took me to the sea caves and I kind of just forgot. Sorry. Grand gestures are new for me.”
He grinned and my heart oozed out a beat. The man was sex on a stick, but he could also make me feel as content as a balmy summer day with an ocean breeze.
“Stay here.” I spun and ran into the bathroom. I tugged on the outfit I’d picked out with Hazel when we went shopping. I smoothed the hat over my hair and hoped I did the right thing.
“What’s going on in there?” Titus called through the door.
“Close your eyes! I’m coming out.”
Easing open the door, I peered out to see him, naked as the day he was born, his eyes closed and that famous grin of his in place. What the hell was I doing? I started second-guessing myself the moment the door was fully open.
His eyes flashed open before I could head back into the bathroom and beat myself up mentally for even thinking this was a good idea. He froze. I froze too. The moment hung there, suspended between us. Him probably wondering if I’d lost my mind. Me wondering something awfully similar.
Titus let out a loud guffaw, half snort of disbelief, half laugh that couldn’t be held in.
“What the hell, Amelia?” His eyebrows hit his hairline, the smile still in place, though it held a large measure of disbelief.
Go big or go home. The famous Amelia motto.
I cocked my hip with all the sass I could muster in a suit of felt and spun around, giving him my backside. We all have our best angle, okay? In this outfit, the back was definitely my best. A large plume of multicolored feathers swung through the air and I gave them a good shake for emphasis.
I was wearing Auburn Hill’s finest peacock costume, replete with the crazy beak on top of my head and an ass full of feathers.
Titus sounded like he might be drowning in his laughter. A loud bang had me startled enough to quit my twerking and face the guy who’d seen me at my worst and still chose me. Well, maybe this moment was my worst.
Titus had fallen off the bed and was currently laughing so hard I feared he might lose consciousness. I put my peacock hands on my hips—the costume people had taken creative license with the arms and claws—and gave him a stern look.
“Hey, I’m showing you that while I can be your little peacock, I’m not actually into pea cocking anymore.” I paused, not sure he heard me. “Titus?”
“Oh my God,” he panted, swiping at his face and trying to pull himself into a seated position on the floor. “Just…just give me a second. Or two…” He dissolved into another peal of laughter, during which I calmly waited him out.
A smile of my own tugged on my cheeks. His laugh really was contagious. And let’s be real. As far as sexy time outfits go, this probably wasn’t what he had in mind. Or what anyone had in mind. But Titus had called me a peacock and what better way for us to celebrate getting together than to be reminded of the night the real live peacock had brought us together?
“You’re so weird, Lia,” he said, sobering enough to finally stand up.
The beak hat started to slide to the left side of my head. “And you fucking love it. Right?”
Titus snagged the puffy chest plate of the bird costume and tugged me closer. The hat tumbled to the floor. His eyes heated degree by degree until I started to worry the costume might be one of the cheap flammable kinds that wouldn’t survive his gaze.
“Strip for me, peacock,” he whispered, a tease against my lips.
I smiled, knowing we were finally getting down to business, and reached behind me with both hands. One sharp tug and the whole costume split in half as the Velcro released. Two quick steps and I was out of that hot suit and deliciously naked.
“I dressed up for you too.” Titus hadn’t touched me yet, his gaze drinking me in slowly.
I quirked an eyebrow and gave him the once-over right back. The liar didn’t have a stitch of clothing on, not that I was complaining. Before I could question his definition of dressing up, he twirled around and pointed at his ass. But he shouldn’t have worried, I was already looking there, not turning down a chance to ogle this fine specimen of a man who worked with his hands all day long. The amount of muscle he carried on one human frame should be illegal.
But then a flash of color caught my eye. I gasped.
“Your virgin skin!” I exclaimed.
Titus tossed a smirk over his shoulder. I crept closer, reaching out to run a finger down the cartoon peacock he now had tattooed on his right ass cheek. It was adorable yet fierce with a stiletto-sharp beak, its colors vibrant and bold. I was speechless.
Titus lifted a sculpted shoulder and let it fall, muscles rippling along his back with the movement. “You got my name on your ass. Figured the only way I’d deface my virgin skin was with a little peacock.” He swung around and my finger was no longer on his ass. It was
