right at the top of her cheek. “I’m more interested in taking it off, anyway,” he said. “I want what’s underneath.”
Her gaze drifted from him, looking dreamy and contemplative.
The girl took all the fun out of trying to rattle her.
She drew in a slow, deep breath, her chest rising. “But I wonder how it would make
me
feel, you know? I wonder if it would make me feel sexy.”
“Only one way to find out.”
And he’d said that out loud
why
? Should he really be encouraging Derek’s sister to wear naughty lingerie?
And why the hell was she sharing this shit with
him
anyway?
The realization hit him like a telephone pole. She could talk like this, walk around the house braless, only if she didn’t see him like that, like a guy. He was just a player who banged groupies. She’d never take a guy like him seriously.
It wasn’t just a line she’d used. She actually wasn’t susceptible to him at all.
Holy fuck.
Why did that realization drop him to his knees?
* * *
After she’d paid for the few items she’d wound up buying, they headed out into the hot sun. Slater watched her toss her bag in the backseat, then head to the passenger side of the car. “Last chance,” he said, nodding toward the lingerie shop.
She looked past him to Bella Donna, and he knew the moment hesitation turned to commitment. “Maybe I’ll just take a quick look.”
“Good idea.” He met her on the walkway, then reached for the door to open it for her.
She turned to him, her hand resting lightly on his chest. “You want to get us some coffees?” She tipped her head toward the coffeehouse a couple of stores down. “I won’t be long.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll be right back with them.”
“Or, you know, maybe just wait for me there?”
He smiled. “Sure thing.”
Not a fucking chance.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Slater peered through the window holding their two coffees. He didn’t see her, so he went inside and was immediately overwhelmed with scented vanilla candles and Debussy’s “Clair de Lune.” Pink wallpaper with black bows made the shop feel cozy. An older, well-heeled saleswoman stood behind a table folding a satin peignoir.
She smiled. “You looking for Emmie?”
Of course she knew Emmie’s name. He nodded with an indulgent smile. Emmie’d probably revolutionized her folding system by now. The girl got shit done, and she did it in the sweetest, nicest way possible.
“In there.” She pointed toward the dressing rooms. “You’re going to love her choices.”
Yeah. Like he’d go into the dressing room to see Derek’s sister trying on teddies. When the woman’s features fell in confusion, he lifted the coffees as an excuse.
She nodded in understanding. “You go in. A girl always appreciates her man’s opinion. More so than an old lady’s.”
“Thanks.”
Still not going in.
He headed to the dressing room as the woman turned to hang a scrap of silky material on a mannequin. A row of four curtained rooms gave way to a small sitting area. Champagne-colored walls with a crystal chandelier gave the area an elegant feel. He peered in to find a round dais facing a three-way mirror. Emmie stood on it, wearing an indecent nightgown.
Lace formed the cups of the top, revealing the fullness of her breasts, the dark pink of her nipples. A yellow satin band fit snugly just underneath them, and the skirt floated over her hips, stopping just below the incredibly sexy curve of her ass.
Head tilted, all that dark hair shifting to one side and revealing the deep V of the back, she examined herself. He couldn’t tell if she liked what she saw. She seemed unsure until she brought her hands up to her breasts, touching her nipples as if to see how they felt through the thin material.
She hissed in a breath, her whole face transforming, tightening with a rush of desire, and then her hands cupped those lush, round breasts. She gave them a gentle squeeze, eyelids fluttering closed.
Holy
Her gaze drifted from him, looking dreamy and contemplative.
The girl took all the fun out of trying to rattle her.
She drew in a slow, deep breath, her chest rising. “But I wonder how it would make
me
feel, you know? I wonder if it would make me feel sexy.”
“Only one way to find out.”
And he’d said that out loud
why
? Should he really be encouraging Derek’s sister to wear naughty lingerie?
And why the hell was she sharing this shit with
him
anyway?
The realization hit him like a telephone pole. She could talk like this, walk around the house braless, only if she didn’t see him like that, like a guy. He was just a player who banged groupies. She’d never take a guy like him seriously.
It wasn’t just a line she’d used. She actually wasn’t susceptible to him at all.
Holy fuck.
Why did that realization drop him to his knees?
* * *
After she’d paid for the few items she’d wound up buying, they headed out into the hot sun. Slater watched her toss her bag in the backseat, then head to the passenger side of the car. “Last chance,” he said, nodding toward the lingerie shop.
She looked past him to Bella Donna, and he knew the moment hesitation turned to commitment. “Maybe I’ll just take a quick look.”
“Good idea.” He met her on the walkway, then reached for the door to open it for her.
She turned to him, her hand resting lightly on his chest. “You want to get us some coffees?” She tipped her head toward the coffeehouse a couple of stores down. “I won’t be long.”
“Yeah, sure. I’ll be right back with them.”
“Or, you know, maybe just wait for me there?”
He smiled. “Sure thing.”
Not a fucking chance.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Slater peered through the window holding their two coffees. He didn’t see her, so he went inside and was immediately overwhelmed with scented vanilla candles and Debussy’s “Clair de Lune.” Pink wallpaper with black bows made the shop feel cozy. An older, well-heeled saleswoman stood behind a table folding a satin peignoir.
She smiled. “You looking for Emmie?”
Of course she knew Emmie’s name. He nodded with an indulgent smile. Emmie’d probably revolutionized her folding system by now. The girl got shit done, and she did it in the sweetest, nicest way possible.
“In there.” She pointed toward the dressing rooms. “You’re going to love her choices.”
Yeah. Like he’d go into the dressing room to see Derek’s sister trying on teddies. When the woman’s features fell in confusion, he lifted the coffees as an excuse.
She nodded in understanding. “You go in. A girl always appreciates her man’s opinion. More so than an old lady’s.”
“Thanks.”
Still not going in.
He headed to the dressing room as the woman turned to hang a scrap of silky material on a mannequin. A row of four curtained rooms gave way to a small sitting area. Champagne-colored walls with a crystal chandelier gave the area an elegant feel. He peered in to find a round dais facing a three-way mirror. Emmie stood on it, wearing an indecent nightgown.
Lace formed the cups of the top, revealing the fullness of her breasts, the dark pink of her nipples. A yellow satin band fit snugly just underneath them, and the skirt floated over her hips, stopping just below the incredibly sexy curve of her ass.
Head tilted, all that dark hair shifting to one side and revealing the deep V of the back, she examined herself. He couldn’t tell if she liked what she saw. She seemed unsure until she brought her hands up to her breasts, touching her nipples as if to see how they felt through the thin material.
She hissed in a breath, her whole face transforming, tightening with a rush of desire, and then her hands cupped those lush, round breasts. She gave them a gentle squeeze, eyelids fluttering closed.
Holy
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