Katie? “Thank God!” She would’ve liked the option of checking through a peephole before opening the door, but since security didn’t seem to be an issue in the boonies of Alaska—at least security against human beings—and peepholes didn’t come standard on the cabin’s heavy wooden doors, she slid the bolt aside and inched the door open instead.
That was so not her friend. But it—or rather he—was clearly a gift from Katie. He had to be. Another of Katie’s naked-man kind of gifts.
Bless her, Katie’d sent a stripper out of guilt to keep Abby-the-City-Girl from getting bored and lonely.
“Uh…may I help you?” She grinned, blinked a few times and opened the door wider. If that was the abominable snowman, then this frigid, isolated place had just taken on some charm. “Did Katie hire you? I love that girl! For my birthday, she sent a stripper dressed as a cop. He was something…was he ever. But didn’t anyone tell you you’re supposed to wear a costume and then take it off after you come inside? That’s half the fun. Oh, and where’s your tunes? And your car?” She tried to peer around him. His frame was wide. The kind of wide she could appreciate.
“Wh-who’s Katie?” Hugging himself for warmth, the guy standing outside stuttered between chattering teeth, “C-can I come in for a minute?”
Ah, so he was going to deny he’d been hired by Katie. That’s the way Katie had played it last time she’d hired a stripper too. No problem. She knew there could be no other reason for a man to be standing nude on her front porch at eight o’clock in the evening. Especially since she doubted there were any nude beaches in the area, and even if there were it was damn cold for swimming. His erect nipples testified to that fact.
She wasn’t too ashamed to say she’d noticed the cold had not negatively affected certain other erect…parts. That in itself was a wonder of nature worth the long flight from Detroit to see. Forget the mountains and glaciers and northern lights.
Back in Detroit, she would’ve never thought of letting a strange, naked man into her house, even if he was built like a god, had an erection that defied nature, and possessed the crooked smile of a devil. But after Katie’s vague promise about making up for her tardy arrival, not to mention the rabid animal that had tried to rip down her door, and her sorry survival skills, having an extremely manly man for company didn’t sound like such a bad idea.
So he didn’t quite have the whole stripping thing down yet? That was nothing to hold against him, especially considering how he was built. As long as he didn’t hear voices, have a parole officer, or consider animal torture a hobby, all was well.
She was going with that. Beggars couldn’t be choosers.
“Sure, you can come in. For a minute,” she said, playing along with their game. “You look like you’re freezing.”
“Th-thanks. I am.” He stepped inside and wiped his feet on the doormat. Bless his mother. Outside of teaching her son it wasn’t exactly kosher to go a-visitin’ wearing nothing but a smile and a coat of goose bumps, she’d taught him some manners.
“Um, since you’re sort of denying having been hired by my best friend to assuage my anger, I’m curious. What’s your story? Did someone steal your clothes? Or were you in some kind of car accident?” It was a shame to cover the rippling muscles, bumps…and bulges…that comprised the anatomy of her visitor, but she had to feel sorry for the guy. Although his skin was the warm mocha of a suntanned beach bum’s, his face was pale and he was shivering. Nothing looked funnier than a naked guy quaking with a hard-on. His dick was doing this funny little bobbing thing, which made it all the more tempting to stare. She pulled the quilt off her shoulders and handed it to him. “Here.” He could do his routine after he’d warmed up a bit. A pathetic, shivering naked guy wasn’t quite as appealing as a studly, hot naked guy.
“I’m not sure what my story is, to tell you the truth…thanks again.” He accepted the blanket with a smile that inspired a few thanks on her part and wrapped it around his glorious body. Despite the fire she’d somehow managed to build without the aid of a push-button ignition switch, he stood by the door looking scrumptious if a bit pathetic. The look in his eyes reminded her of Zoë, the mutt that had parked her pathetic furry behind on Abby’s front porch one frigid January night and given her a dose of the saddest puppy eyes ever. That had been almost five years ago. Zoë was now officially the world’s most spoiled dog. Abby was not the kind of girl who could resist sad puppy eyes.