“Oh my God, he’s totally singing that on purpose,” she cries and I can hear her clapping. “It’s a sign!”
“It’s not a sign!”
I think it’s a sign.
“Oh, it so is. Go in there, do it, Jay!”
“I can’t,” I yell. “Oh man!”
“I’m hanging up. Go in there and ride that sexy biker.”
She hangs up and I growl, frustrated. I push to my feet, unable to stop myself. Every part of me says I should stay right where I am, but I can’t stop my feet from dragging me to the door. I need to get closer; I need to hear him clearer. I open my door, pushing it softly and tiptoeing into the hall. His voice becomes smoother as I near his bedroom, and my heartbeat picks up.
His door is just cracked slightly open, and his voice flows out along with the faint light. I peer in, and he’s sitting on the bed, guitar resting on his crossed legs. I can really see his heritage when he’s sitting like that. His gorgeous body is long, lean and muscled. His hair is down, flowing around his shoulders, and he’s in nothing but a pair of exercise shorts. His eyes are closed and he’s singing softly.
It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I’m so in the moment, I don’t realize I let myself relax against the door. It squeaks, jerking me out of my thoughts. Mack’s head shoots up and our eyes meet in an intense, crazy moment. I don’t know if he’s going to lose his shit, or drag me in and make my night a whole lot better. Mortified with myself, I squeak, “I love that song.”
Oh God, I’m so lame.”
He tilts his head to the side. “Yeah.”
Yeah. In other words, go away, crazy stalker nanny.
“You play beautifully.”
Take the hint, Jaylah. He doesn’t want you here.
He doesn’t answer, and instead of walking away, I go on.
“Your voice is amazing.”
He stands, dropping the guitar beside him. He walks towards me, his body lean and taut. He stops when he reaches the door, putting his hand above my head to rest on the frame. Leaning down close, so close I lose my breath, he murmurs, “Night, Lah.”
Then he closes the door.
Closes it.
Oh my God, I’m such an idiot.
I stand in the hall, horrified. I just made a complete fool of myself and in his sexy-man way, he basically dismissed me.
Fool.
CHAPTER NINE
MACK“I need a fuckin’ beer,” Krypt grumbles, taking my door handle and shoving it open.
We’re bombarded immediately by the booming sounds of music. I stop, narrowing my eyes. It would appear Jaylah lets her hair down when I’m not here. Maddox, Krypt and Tyke pass me and I follow closely behind.
“Holy. Fuck.”
That comes from Tyke.
“Fuck,” Maddox breathes.
“Jesus,” Krypt growls.
God, what’s she fuckin’ done now? She tried to cook dinner last night and nearly burned my house down, then she fucked my washing machine because she put too much soap in, and now the guys have stopped and they sound like they’re about to have a fuckin’ fit. It better not be my fridge, I love that fuckin’ fri—
Holy. Shit.
My thoughts are cut short when my eyes find what it is that’s got the guys frozen in their spots. Jaylah is on the floor, her head in the kitchen cupboard, ass in the air, and she’s wearing the tiniest fuckin’ shorts I’ve ever seen. I’m not even sure they’re considered shorts. Her ass is on display for the world to see, and she’s got a nice fuckin’ ass. Curved, firm, and fuckin’ sexy.
My eyes travel up her tanned thighs and stop at the curve on the base of her ass. Fuck. Sweet. So fuckin’ sweet. She’s wearing some sort of crop top, so the golden skin on her back can be seen stretching over her sweet hips, and she has a fuckin’ nice spine. Her thick hair is tucked up underneath a cleaning bandana and she has yet to realize there are four men watching her shake her ass.
And she’s shakin’ it.
Fuckin’ sweet.
Maddox clears his throat, and her entire body freezes. Slowly, she turns, her eyes widening as she notices us. The color drains from her face and she squeals, slipping on the damp floor and landing on her back. Krypt is the closest and quick as lightning, he swoops down and clutches her, pulling her to her feet. Her cheeks have gone from white to pink as she takes us in, her eyes stopping on me.
“I,” she begins. “I was, ah . . .”
“Know what you were doin’, honey,” I murmur, unable to keep the soft from my voice. She looks so fuckin’ sexy.
Her cheeks grow redder and she covers her chest. “The cupboards were messy and I have screwed up so much. I thought I’d clean, I thought you weren’t coming home and . . .”
“All women cleaned like that,” Maddox says, “I’d be a happy fuckin’ man.”
Her cheeks grow so red I’m sure if I put my hand to her skin, it’d be hot.
“I . . .”
“You always clean in Daisy Dukes?”
“Daisy Dukes?” she squeaks.
I nod to her shorts. “The things you’re wearin’ that can’t be considered shorts, yet aren’t panties.”
She clicks and her hands go to her hips. There she is. Sassy Jaylah.
“These are my cleaning pants, and I’m usually alone when I clean.”
“Glad you weren’t today,” Krypt mutters.