Free Dirty Desire by M Dauphin Page A

John and Leigh into a fit of sheet pulling and mumbles as they frantically try to hide their bits from me.
    “Nothing I haven’t seen before, boys,” I mumble. “Leigh. Clothes. I need them.”
    He looks at me with sleep still in his eyes and grins.
    “You didn’t last night.” He says, forcing a chuckle from John.
    “Not funny,” I huff. “I need to leave.”
    “Great.” John mumbles, earning a slug to the arm from Leigh. He looks at me and shakes his head.
    “You puked all over them on the cab ride back, Harper. They need to be washed.” His voice groggy and the frown on his face says I’m in more trouble with him than I thought.
    “I’m sorry,” I whisper, suddenly feeling like a child. “Do you have shorts and a shirt I can wear home, at least? I’ll get a cleaner here as soon as I can to clean up my mess.” He sighs and stands from the bed, walking over to his dresser without trying to cover up anything. John glares at him the entire time and I wonder how much Leigh told him about our past. Leigh’s been gay since day one, but he’s never been modest, and for good reason. The man is ripped. If he weren’t gay I’d have jumped him years ago. That being said, there’ve been plenty of drunken nights he’s disrobed in front of me. It’s impressive, but it’s not what I want.
    What I want is standing in the doorway, red faced, watching this exchange.
    “Here,” Leigh says, as he hands me a pair of gym shorts and a white t-shirt. “This’ll have to do.”
    “Thank you, you’re a life saver.” I hug him, not thinking about the clothes thing, and the blanket falls to the floor.
    “Shit,” I mutter, breaking the hug and glancing back at Knox.
    Why the hell did I do that? I don’t owe him anything. He’s not my boyfriend. He has no claim to my life. If I want to hug my gay best friend naked, then dammit I’ll hug my gay best friend naked.
    “Let’s go,” he says, storming into the room. “John. Thank you. Take the day off, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He grunts as he grabs my arm, giving me no time to process what’s happening. On the way out I stop at the bathroom and toss the clothes at Knox. The taste in my mouth can’t wait. If I have to taste like I upchucked everything from yesterday one more minute I might actually do it again.
    I use toothpaste and my finger to scrub them clean and when I come out to the living room, Knox is glaring at me and tosses the clothes back at me.
    “Put them on,” he says. I grin at him, his jaw tight from anger.
    Quirking an eyebrow, I put my hands on my hips and drop the clothes to the floor.
    “Oops,” I whisper. He shakes his head and his hands go to his hips.
    “Dress please.”
    “If you say so.” Slowly bending at the hip, I don’t lose eye contact until I’m all the way bent over. A low growl escapes his lips and I grin, knowing what this is doing to him. Slipping on the too-big shorts, I roll the waistband until I’m confident they aren’t going to fall, then glare at Knox.
    “I don’t appreciate the rude tone," I tell him, crossing my arms to perk the ladies up. His demeanor isn’t changing but his will not to stare at my chest right now is slowly breaking. A grin slips over my lips and he sighs.
    “Jesus Christ you’re stubborn.” He storms to the door. “I’ll be outside when you’re ready to go.”
    The shirt goes on smooth and I sigh. I miss wearing Leigh’s shit. Mine isn’t near as large or comfortable as his is. This shirt is staying with me.
    Outdoors, the sun scorches my eyes immediately, sending searing pain straight to my temples.
    “Fuck it’s bright out here,” I mutter, walking down the sidewalk.
“Over here, Princess.” Knox is leaning against a pitch-black sports car that looks like a million dollars.
    “I’m good,” I say, wincing at the sun. “Fuck me.”
    “I’d love to, but right now I’m making sure you’re going to make it home in one piece.” He opens the car door and the new car