Jett by Honey Palomino Page A

his all business attitude.  I abandoned all my fantasies, and left him sleeping to go shower.  But they time I was out, he was up making coffee.  Still in his fucking boxers.
    “Hey, Mr. Professional,” I said jokingly, as I walked into the kitchen. “Maybe you should put some clothes on.”
    He turned to me, smirked and ignored my comment.
    “Good morning! Coffee?”
    “Yeah, sure…” I replied.  “Tons of cream and sugar. Tons.”
    His laughter echoed through the room.  I watched him as he moved skillfully around the kitchen.  His torso was covered in muscles that were in turn covered in tattoos - snakes, skulls, creepy monsters, even a horse on his arm, and on his back, a full piece that replicated the patch on the back of his cut - every inch of him was inked and rippling.  
    “Tons? How do you keep that girlish figure?” he asked, teasingly.
    “In case you hadn’t noticed, I sweat buckets for about an hour and a half every night. It tends to work.”
    “Yeah, good point,” he said, handing me a steaming mug with a devilish smile.
    “So, what’s on the agenda for today?  I need to meet with Seth this morning; I want an update on the investigation.  And I need to know several days in advance what the schedule is going to be, so I can plan ahead.  This taking things moment by moment thing isn’t going to work out for me, if I’m going to protect you properly.”
    “I have an itinerary on the bus.  I appreciate you taking this all so seriously, Colt.  You seem to be the only one doing it.”
    “Yeah, it appears so, doesn’t it?” he grumbled, his smile fading.  “It’s fucked up, Jett.  You should have a team of bodyguards, not just some big bear that looks like he wouldn't hurt a fly.”
    “Yeah, I guess,” I replied.  He was right.  I knew it.  I had felt the same way for years, but nobody would take me seriously.  They just dismissed me, and handed me a drink, in hopes of keeping me complacent.  It usually worked.  I let it work.  Having Colt here was like wrapping a warm, fuzzy blanket around me.  
    “I slept better last night than I have in days,” I said.
    “I can imagine. But I’m glad to hear it, Jett,” he said, walking over to stand in front of me.  He reached up and pushed a strand of hair behind my ear as he stared down at me.  I could smell him, and since I had decided it wasn’t so gross anymore, my nipples hardened in response.
    “Listen, you don’t have to worry anymore.  Nobody is getting close to you again, I promise.  Not as long as I’m around.”
    “Thank you,” I whispered gratefully.  
    “You’re welcome,” he replied, turning away from me.  My eyes slid down to his muscular ass, the white cotton of his boxer shorts draped across it.  I wondered if I’d ever get a chance to unveil it, touch it, feel the muscles move under my fingertips.
    I sipped my coffee, watching him, and I sighed heavily.
    “I need to do some shopping this morning,” I said, trying to bring myself out of my fantasy.  “You’re coming with me.”
    “Shopping. My favorite thing,” he replied, sarcastically.
    I walked towards my bedroom, calling to him over my shoulder.
    “I’ll pack. You should put some clothes on, before I rip those boxers off of you.”
    He chuckled without replying, and I shook my head as I closed the bedroom door, flopping onto my bed in exasperation.  
    By the time I came back out, he was fully dressed.  Jeans, black t-shirt, his leather cut again, his tattoos on full-display.  Fuck.  He almost looked better in clothes than he did out of them.  Almost.
    “Do you have to wear that everywhere?” I asked.
    “Yes. Yes, I do,” he answered without hesitation.
    “Okay, if you say so,” I replied.  I didn’t really care, it was sexy, actually.  And I knew it unnerved Rex, so it secretly delighted me.  “Sam just called.  The limo is waiting outside.  We’ve got three hours to do some shopping and get back to the