Page 11 of Sunny Undone

Thankfully, he’s facing away from me, but dear mother of all things holy.

He has the finest-looking body I have ever laid my eyes on. First, his ass cheeks are as firm and tight and symmetrical as the BOSU ball he’s standing on. He has broad shoulders, and strong arms that are muscular. And there is so much ink on his body, I find it hard to take it all in.

One foot is planted; the other is tucked against his thigh. One arm is extended overhead. His dirty-blond hair is up in an elastic and resembles the crown of a pineapple. And he’s completely motionless, until I cough to make my presence known.

“What the fuck?” he shouts as he turns, and I can see the moment he goes through the exact same train of thought I went through upstairs, leading to the memories of last night tearing through his brain.

While all I can think about is how his soft penis is larger than some of the hard ones I’ve seen and how I feel like I’ve been short-changed my whole life.

He points as if he can’t even recall my name. “Della,” he says finally. “You’re…here.”

“And you’re naked.”

He looks down at his exposed genitals, then back to me. “Yeah. Naked yoga in the sun. Good for the body.”

I shift my eyes to the ceiling, then fumble around for the cushion on the chair before throwing it at him. “At least try to cover it.”

Sunny chuckles as he catches it. He steps back inside, and now he has a chocolate-brown square cushion covering a small fraction of him.

“I forgot I had company. Sorry.” He doesn’t look the slightest bit sorry. He seems utterly at one with his body. And as someone who has never been able to fix her hip dips like all those exercises say you can, I’m slightly envious.

“You forgot I was here?” I ask.

He shrugs. “Aren’t those the same thing?”

I go to object, but he’s sort of right. “Okay. That’s fair.”

“Listen, Della. Your brain might fire on all its cylinders the moment those eyes of yours hurtle open, but I’m more of a death march to lucidity. I need coffee and a really good fucking stretch. My mom used to say I take as long to get up as the sun does.”

He walks by me over to the kitchen island, then steps behind it, placing the cushion on it. “Would you like a coffee?”

“What I’d like is for you to put your penis away.”

Sunny grins. “There are plenty of girls who would be quite happy to see it.”

“Please, for the love of God, do not use the word girls when it comes to penis sightings, because that kind of thing can get you put in prison unless you’re a billionaire who spent time on a seedy private island and has an in with the president.”

The front door bursts open, and I jump, hand on my chest, and run around to the other side of the kitchen island. It no longer matters whether Sunny’s penis is hanging out, just that I don’t get murdered.

“You ready to go, you son of a cunt?” The voice booms from the hallway, and then a man as large as Sunny comes around the corner looking at something on his phone. His cut reads, Ridge. “It’s hotter than Satan’s armpit out there.”

When he looks up, he immediately puts his phone away. “Shit. Sorry, brother. Didn’t know you had…company.”

I can see the minute he takes in my brown pajamas and plain features and can’t figure out what’s going on here.

“I’m not that kind of company.”

Ridge’s shoulders relax. Then, he nods as if the universe makes sense again because, of course, his highly attractive friend is not making out with me. “Sorry, easy mistake to make, seeing as my brother is standing there with his cock flying in the wind.”

I lean forward, grab the cushion, and thrust it in Sunny’s direction. “Maybe you should go get some clothes.”

He grins, and I swear to God, my brain plays an imaginary ting sound as sparkles flash off his smile. “Like I said, doll, most women are excited when I’m naked.”

I roll my eyes. “First, I am not your doll. Second, I am not most women.”

“I’m starting to see that,” he says, before throwing the cushion at me. “Help yourself to coffee.” Then, he offers me a rather spectacular view of his ass cheeks before he walks off down the hall.

Ridge walks over to me, closer and closer until I wonder if I should grab a knife to protect myself. But then, he reaches above me and pulls two mugs out of the cupboard by my head. “Relax, sweetheart,” he says. “No one is gonna hurt you in this house.”