Jonah Fisher and Scott Eeley may both be Deaf, but they couldn’t be more different.
Scott is a color consultant who doesn’t interact well with the hearing. He watches his gorgeous new neighbor swim every morning, but has no idea how to approach him. He doesn’t even know his name.
Jonah is a bouncer with an ‘I’m Deaf, deal with it’ attitude. He doesn’t like the way Scott lets people treat him. So why can’t he stop thinking about him?
His strokes were strong and even as he glided through the water of the apartment swimming pool. Scott watched him swim lap after lap, stretching his arms, pushing his way through the water, his head coming up every fourth stroke so he could catch his breath. Graceful and gorgeous was what he was, and without any colored spots circling around him, apart from the bright red spot of pain near his right ankle.
He made another turn, just as Scott’s phone vibrated. Scott grabbed it off the table and read Kerry’s text.
dont 4gt, early meeting dis AM.
Scott sighed. He loved his personal assistant, but hated her reminding him of meetings he really didn’t want to attend. Unfortunately, they were mandatory. He texted her back to reassure her he would be on time — she would only text him again if he didn’t — and went back to watching him swim.
Him. Gorgeous. Scott had no idea what his name was. There was no name on his door or his mailbox yet and he didn’t want to ask Rosa about him. She would only go blabbing to Dad, and Scott didn’t want him prying.
Scott had lost count of the laps when Kerry texted him, but Gorgeous should be almost done by now.
Gorgeous turned, but instead of doing another lap, he made his way to the stairs and Scott grabbed the armrest to keep from getting up and leaning over the balcony. He could see Gorgeous well enough where he was, and he didn’t want to ruin the moment by drawing attention to himself. This was the best part of his mornings, lately.
Scott loved how the wet body was revealed step by step. His wet hair glistening in the early sunlight. His eyes squeezed shut as he shook his head to get rid of the excess water. Droplets landed on his broad shoulders, and Scott was drawn to a tattoo inked over well built muscles that covered the left shoulder and upper arm. Scott would never come near a needle himself, but he couldn’t help admiring it.
It looked like Medusa, the way the swirls or tentacles crossed each other, reaching away from the middle. No clear face in the middle, though, so he suspected it was a tribal design. Or a bunch of octopi fighting for space. He didn’t know what it was about that tattoo, but it called out to him, sent shivers up his spine and begged him to be touched.
As Gorgeous stepped out of the pool, Scott tore his eyes away from the tattoo and let them slide down to his swimming trunks — tight, small black swimming trunks that hid nothing. Not to mention the abs to die for, chest hair that would no doubt scratch his palms if he ran his hands across it and an attractive goatee surrounded by an almost permanent five o’clock shadow. He was hot.
Color Me © 2011 Blaine D. Arden. All rights reserved