whipped around, her eyes filled with trepidation. “I am so, so sorry. God, my neighbors are going to kill me. Shit.”
While she searched for the plug, Jared tried to get the vision of her midriff out of his mind. To stop thinking of that satin-smooth skin and the pierced belly button. From this distance he couldn’t see what she had thrust through the skin of her navel but he wanted to more than his next breath. She must cause riots at the pool.
She focused on him and then quickly looked away. “Um, you’re one of those guys.”
“What guys? Witty even in the middle of the night?”
“Haha, no. One that sleeps without a shirt on.”
“Yeah, it bunches up and I don’t like it.” Sometimes talking to Poe made him feel as if he had one foot inside the twilight zone. “So, is your CD player on a timer?”
“Not exactly.”
“How did it get turned on without the help of human hands? Poltergeist, solar flare? Don’t tell me. You’ve invented a sentient CD player that likes to hear Beethoven in the middle of the night?”
“You really are quick on your feet.”
“You had to be in Afghanistan or you were dead.”
She paled a little and moved closer to him.
“I’m sorry, that was a knee-jerk reaction. So maybe I’m not totally charming at midnight.”
“No, you’re still pretty charming.”
“Poe, the CD player?”
“Right. I taught Edgar and Allan how to turn it on.”
“You’re kidding me. So they…”
“Yeah, they dance when I’m not here. They love it. I forgot to unplug it and they must have been fooling with it and brushed the volume knob. Don’t look at me like that. Jack Russells get bored so easily. When they get bored, they find unacceptable ways of entertaining themselves. Like eating gummy worms and playing football with my underwear.”
He looked down and saw the ball of lace on the floor. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, reaching down and snagging the scrap of fluff.
As soon as he stood up, he realized it wasn’t exactly underwear, but a bra and he had it by the strap. As soon as he stood with it, it unraveled like a slow striptease.
He froze as his focus narrowed down to that tiny bit of nothing. Sheer black lace, hot pink ribbons, and something he was sure a woman described as scallops along the band that would fit exactly under her full breasts.
“It’s not underwear.” Self-control was supposed to be his middle name. But his fucking hand trembled. Trembled .
“Technically it is. It’s all kinda a group of unmentionables. That’s part of a set and came with a matching pair of G-string panties.” She clapped a hand over her mouth.
If he wasn’t so turned on, he would have laughed.
“Oh, God. I can’t believe I said that out loud.”
Her voice came out strangled with embarrassment, but from his vantage point there was absolutely nothing for her to be embarrassed about. This wisp of lace was as volatile, as dangerous, as a live hand grenade, and he stood there frozen with indecision. Should he let it go and run like hell or jump on it and put himself of out his misery.
She walked across the room, snatched it out of his hand and balled it up in her fist. His mouth went dry thinking about something so delicate and barely there on her body. How much he wanted to untie those pink ribbons that were sure to be what held the miniscule G-string on her body.
“Those damn dogs.”
Ah, hell, he was trying to be professionally disengaged here, but she was undermining him at every turn. “They are incorrigible.” The words came out sounding like something he’d swallowed. His heart beat heavily in his chest.
He was going to have to kiss her. He couldn’t possibly get through the night, or even the next five minutes, without kissing her. His body was nearly electrified with the need to touch her, to somehow draw her close and bury his face in the curve of her neck and shoulder, to open his mouth on her skin and run his tongue all the way down her body
While she searched for the plug, Jared tried to get the vision of her midriff out of his mind. To stop thinking of that satin-smooth skin and the pierced belly button. From this distance he couldn’t see what she had thrust through the skin of her navel but he wanted to more than his next breath. She must cause riots at the pool.
She focused on him and then quickly looked away. “Um, you’re one of those guys.”
“What guys? Witty even in the middle of the night?”
“Haha, no. One that sleeps without a shirt on.”
“Yeah, it bunches up and I don’t like it.” Sometimes talking to Poe made him feel as if he had one foot inside the twilight zone. “So, is your CD player on a timer?”
“Not exactly.”
“How did it get turned on without the help of human hands? Poltergeist, solar flare? Don’t tell me. You’ve invented a sentient CD player that likes to hear Beethoven in the middle of the night?”
“You really are quick on your feet.”
“You had to be in Afghanistan or you were dead.”
She paled a little and moved closer to him.
“I’m sorry, that was a knee-jerk reaction. So maybe I’m not totally charming at midnight.”
“No, you’re still pretty charming.”
“Poe, the CD player?”
“Right. I taught Edgar and Allan how to turn it on.”
“You’re kidding me. So they…”
“Yeah, they dance when I’m not here. They love it. I forgot to unplug it and they must have been fooling with it and brushed the volume knob. Don’t look at me like that. Jack Russells get bored so easily. When they get bored, they find unacceptable ways of entertaining themselves. Like eating gummy worms and playing football with my underwear.”
He looked down and saw the ball of lace on the floor. “Are you sure about that?” he asked, reaching down and snagging the scrap of fluff.
As soon as he stood up, he realized it wasn’t exactly underwear, but a bra and he had it by the strap. As soon as he stood with it, it unraveled like a slow striptease.
He froze as his focus narrowed down to that tiny bit of nothing. Sheer black lace, hot pink ribbons, and something he was sure a woman described as scallops along the band that would fit exactly under her full breasts.
“It’s not underwear.” Self-control was supposed to be his middle name. But his fucking hand trembled. Trembled .
“Technically it is. It’s all kinda a group of unmentionables. That’s part of a set and came with a matching pair of G-string panties.” She clapped a hand over her mouth.
If he wasn’t so turned on, he would have laughed.
“Oh, God. I can’t believe I said that out loud.”
Her voice came out strangled with embarrassment, but from his vantage point there was absolutely nothing for her to be embarrassed about. This wisp of lace was as volatile, as dangerous, as a live hand grenade, and he stood there frozen with indecision. Should he let it go and run like hell or jump on it and put himself of out his misery.
She walked across the room, snatched it out of his hand and balled it up in her fist. His mouth went dry thinking about something so delicate and barely there on her body. How much he wanted to untie those pink ribbons that were sure to be what held the miniscule G-string on her body.
“Those damn dogs.”
Ah, hell, he was trying to be professionally disengaged here, but she was undermining him at every turn. “They are incorrigible.” The words came out sounding like something he’d swallowed. His heart beat heavily in his chest.
He was going to have to kiss her. He couldn’t possibly get through the night, or even the next five minutes, without kissing her. His body was nearly electrified with the need to touch her, to somehow draw her close and bury his face in the curve of her neck and shoulder, to open his mouth on her skin and run his tongue all the way down her body
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