“Some of these clothes are work clothes and shouldn’t be washed with anything else. Maybe I should do those myself.” Ian put the basket down on the floor and began to sort.
Rémy bent down, picked up all of the clothes, and dumped them down the chute going all Alpha on Ian. “Marie Claire does the laundry. She wouldn’t take too kindly to you messing up her laundry system. Let it go. You don’t get to win this bout.”
Ian’s lower lip went out in what surely was a pout. Rémy wondered how long it had been since he got to do that. Rémy ran his finger along Ian’s lower lip. “You pout beautifully. Should I kiss that lower lip so that you pull it back where it belongs?”
Ian gave Rémy the evil eye, picked up his basket, and took it back into the room. Rémy followed. “You don’t have to do everything by yourself anymore. You have friends, people who like you and are willing to help.”