Nightie Night: The Lingerie Series (Stir Sticks & Stilettos) by Yvette Hines Page A

my hair looking like a
bird had landed in it and attempted to make a nest. I blinked and cleared the
vision.
    “Um.” I rubbed my hands down the
front of my skirt, hoping to press out some of the creases in it. “I’m not
really presentable for public dining.”
    Damn, I didn’t want to blow my
chance at a pseudo date with Aaren but I had to be honest.
    “Perfect. I don’t feel like driving
around either or fighting with Friday night parking in the Queen City, so we’ll
order in.”
    I stared at him for a moment then
looked down at the papers and laptops with our completed graphs and PowerPoint.
When we had work, it was easy to occupy my mind and keep from drifting into
erotic fantasy land but with the job done and nothing for us to talk about over
food I was hesitant.
    “You don’t have other plans tonight,
do you?”
    Tonight was family game night at my
parents' house, but I had already informed them I would not be there. So,
technically I was free. “Not really. I have time for dinner.”
    His smile was bone melting and spine
tingling. “Great. Do you like Italian? That’s the only thing I happen to have
on speed dial for long nights.”
    “I love it.”
    He rose and went to his desk. “To be
honest, the only reason it’s the only thing in my phone is because it is my
favorite.”
    I laughed. “Mine too. From pizza to
ravioli to spaghetti and everything in between.”
    Pulling a tri-fold from his desk,
Aaren crossed back to me and handed me the menu. “Pick whatever you want.”
    “Let’s see.” I made myself stare at
the food items instead of at the strong, wide hands of the man beside me. Those
hands with their blunt fingertips and neatly trimmed nails. I loved a man that
kept himself groomed. Not in an extreme metro-sexual way, I didn’t want him
pretty, just one that cared for himself. The thought of those hands palming and
squeezing my breasts or holding my ass had my sex throbbing. With him standing
so close, I had to press my thighs together and not squirm.
    He sat next to me. “I love their
veal scallopini with mushrooms.”
    The warmth of his body so close to
mine had me wanting to moan. He wasn’t even touching me, but the right side
where he sat was honest-to-goodness tingling as if every cell in my body had
flooded there and was reaching toward him. It made no sense. I’d never been
this mentally and physically attracted to any man. Not even my first love when I
was in college. What was it about Aaren Reston?
    “That sounds really good.” I looked
over the items slowly, repeating each name in my head just to keep my
imagination from roaming.
    “If not that then their lasagna
rivals anyone’s.” He pointed at the item on the menu causing his finger to
brush the tip of mine.
    I’d been a fool to believe that it
was not possible to feel sexual desire from a light touch in a non-sexual
place. Because desire sizzled down my arm from the place of contact and blazed
a determined trail to my pussy. It was as if he’d stroked my clit. Shit, I was
in trouble if I stayed for dinner.
    Glancing at him, I saw he wasn’t
looking at the menu as I suspected but at me. He was in the process of scanning
my body. Sitting beside me, he could see the swell of my cleavage in between
the parted fabric of my blouse and possibly a hint of the magenta corset I was
wearing. I believed a girl had to enhance her figure whenever possible.
Especially when you were a thick woman you had to ensure all your curves were
always on perfect display.
    When his gaze rose and met mine, I
saw how his light green eyes had darkened to almost a forest green. That look
excited me. Over the years we had worked together I always believed our
attraction was on one side—my side. However, I couldn’t mistake the look he’d
given me for anything but interest.
    “Kalan?” His tone was thick and
husky.
    My name came out like a caress from
his lips. I lowered my eyes to those thin, firm lips, a pale pink color, and
wanted to