“Oh this is my favorite,” Xavier shouted, then laughed. I perched on a stool, my elbows propped up on the kitchen island, as I snuck one bite of avocado and chicken into my mouth after the other, and almost choked to death when Xavier came into view. This model wasn’t a trunk. It was a slip, and even that term didn’t do the thing justice. The bright purple fabric didn’t cover much. I coughed. Xavier’s grin grew, and then he turned around, and I was fairly sure my legs would have given way if I hadn’t been sitting. It was some sort of thong that revealed Xavier’s perfectly shaped butt, with two strange strings under his ass cheeks. He turned back to me. “What do you think?” Not much. Any sane thought had fled my mind. My head was moments from raising a fire alarm. I sat up slowly, trying to form an articulate reply despite Xavier’s grin. “What is that?” “A jockstrap. Have you never seen one?” “Until you I wasn’t around jocks all that much,” I muttered, trying very hard not to look at how the jock thingy accentuated Xavier’s thing. But it was really really difficult not to risk the occasional peek because that man wasn’t only ripped, he also had every reason to be cocky as far as I could tell. Xavier was enjoying this far too much. I bet he wouldn’t have tried on every single piece of clothing if it wasn’t for my reaction. “Yay or nay, Evie?” “To be honest, I think ninety-nine-point-nine percent of the male population shouldn’t even be thinking of wearing something like that.” Xavier strolled over to me. Did this man not have any kind of shame? “But I should?” “God no,” I said, forcing my gaze to rest firmly on his annoyingly cocky face. Of course, the reason why Xavier shouldn’t be wearing a jock strap was an entirely different one. It was to preserve the last shreds of my sanity because seeing him in his Calvin Kleins was already bad, but this? “Why not? Share your thoughts with me.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t think it’s very manly if guys wear thongs.” What I really thought was that if Xavier didn’t start wearing more than briefs around me soon, the non-disclosure clause would be useful after all. “Sure. That’s why,” Xavier said, then turned to head back upstairs. I wasn’t sure, but I thought he flexed his butt cheeks to give me an additional show. “Only one more,” he informed me a couple of minutes later. “If it’s got less fabric than the last, I’m out, Xavier. I warn you,” I called up.