Tags:
Contemporary Romance,
Military,
Erotic,
enemies to lovers,
Entangled,
fling,
brazen,
Fashion,
ptsd,
Naughty Little Wished,
Nina Crespo
lean out his time so her tailor friend got cut from the schedule. He’d brought the suits with him to keep the peace. He’d suspected trying to squeeze the guy in wouldn’t work, but he’d wanted to keep her happy. An unstoppable grin tipped up his lips. And he’d left her very, very happy. Focusing on breakfast during their long weekend might save his ass when she confronted him about the change.
He tapped open the message and flipped through the accompanying photos. Tingles of shock rained over him. In the selfie, Tab wore a wet, white dress shirt and one of his red ties, naked breasts and hard nipples clearly visible underneath the fabric. The next ones showed her lying in his bed only wearing what looked like one of his suit jackets and her covered in… whipped cream and strawberries .
Drew broke out in a sweat. He loosened his tie and popped the top button of his shirt.
“Mr. Bode, are you okay?” Everyone around the conference table stared.
Hell no, he wasn’t okay. If his dick got any harder he’d fucking implode.
He turned off his phone. “I’m fine. Can someone please hand me a water?” He accepted an ice-cold bottle and gestured to the screen. “Keep going.”
Water glided down his throat, but only a freezing cold shower could combat the lingering image of the third selfie. Tab in nothing but a tie and strategically placed Fruit Loops.
Chapter Sixteen
“Tab, this is a bad idea.”
“Oh please, you’re being dramatic. You make it sound like I broke in. I’m staying here, remember?” Tab readjusted her Bluetooth headset and laid her purse on Drew’s bed. As she slipped her cell into the back pocket of her cutoffs, the knot tied in the white dress shirt she’d taken from his seemingly unlimited supply brushed over her belly button.
“You’re crossing all kinds of boundaries.”
“I don’t have a choice.” She went into his custom, walk-in closet carrying a large, boutique shopping bag. “He’s not cooperating.”
She’d thought they’d crossed a bridge of understanding, but Drew decided to retreat. He’d cancelled his suit fittings in Montana and refused to respond to her calls and messages. A smile pulled at her lips. The texts she’d sent him ought to prompt a response. Especially the new one she’d sent. The red tie-kini . The top part had shaped up easily. Knotting the ties together to create a string bikini bottom had taken work, but it turned out better than expected. Maybe she should keep it as a prototype to share with one of her designer friends.
Jasmine sighed. “You should give him more time.”
“I’m leaving for Miami tomorrow. I only have today to sort through this mess.” Tab skimmed through the brown suits hanging on the bottom left. The endless row of starched, white, button-down shirts above them almost blinded her. “He’s stuck in a fashion rut. He needs my help.”
“And how, exactly, does you sneaking around the man’s bedroom in fairy-godmother mode, waving around your fashion wand help anything?”
“It’s a push in the right direction, and what’s the big deal? I’m only changing out his ties.” And a few suits and possibly a few dress shirts.
“Without his permission.”
The heels of Tab’s gold, thong sandals slapped against the wood floors. “We have a deal and I’m living up to my end of it. He agreed to do this.” Sort of.
“But he’s not there. You can’t change things and not expect trouble.”
“He’ll like the changes.” She slid one of the wood horizontal cabinets out of the wall. Jackpot.
Red stripes, burgundy paisleys, and the predictable red holiday ties for Christmas and Valentine’s Day hung neatly on hooks attached to sliding racks. She pulled one out of its place and held it up. Cartoon Easter bunnies? She cringed. This one definitely has to go.
“You’re not paying attention to me, are you?”
“No, I hear you, but I’ve got this covered. Stop worrying.” Tab took all the neckties off the rack
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