shit. Desire exploded inside him, rushing through his dick, making him instantly hard. The door chime jangled, and as he jerked away from the wall, hot coffee spilled onto his hand. He could hear the saleswoman talking quietly to whomever had just entered.
Fuck. He set one of the coffees down on a shelf, then dragged his wet hand on his jeans. His heart pounded, and he couldn’t for the life of him get the image of Emmie touching herself out of his head. It just kept repeating like a GIF.
He had to get out of there.
SEVEN
She’d taken too long shopping. She could tell because the moment they got in the car¸ Slater cranked the stereo and tore out of the parking lot.
“Sorry about that.” Well, sorry she’d wasted his time. But thrilled she’d taken care of number seven on her list: Wear sexy lingerie.
“No problem.” His hands gripped the steering wheel.
Emmie loved her new bras. Loved them with a passion normally reserved for dessert and pretty office supplies. She sipped her coffee, which he’d prepared perfectly for her, and then set it between her legs, since the old car didn’t have cup holders.
Opening the pretty pink and black bag, she withdrew one of the bras, quickly sliding it out of the tissue paper. She could not believe a bra could be so beautiful and sexy. The teal satin demi cups with black lace overlay had hoisted the girls into the most delectable mounds she’d ever seen.
She held it up by the straps. “Is this to die for?”
He barely spared her a glance.
“I love it,” she said more to herself, since he obviously didn’t care about bras. “How far is your mom’s?”
He didn’t answer, just kept his gaze trained on the road, jaw set tightly.
Okay, he was pissed. She flicked off the stereo. “I thought you wanted me to go in there.”
He frowned, giving her a dismissive shrug like,
Whatever
.
“I didn’t take that long, did I? I mean, come on. Less than twenty minutes.”
He ignored her and turned the music back up.
Taking another sip of her coffee, she balled up the tissue paper, put the bra back inside, and pulled out another one. Tearing off the paper, she brought this one to her chest and clutched it. This one she
adored
. Super-sheer black lace covered in tiny yellow and white daisies, it had nice lift from the underwire but plunged deeply across her cleavage, exposing lots of skin and making her breasts really bouncy. She’d never felt sexier in her life than when she’d tried it on.
She flicked off the stereo. “This one’s my favorite. Isn’t it pretty?”
He sighed, all long and drawn out, letting her know his exasperation. “Sure.”
He hadn’t even looked at it. “Okay, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
“We’re adults, not middle schoolers. We don’t say,
Nothing
. If I took too long in the store, just say so.”
“You’re fine.”
If he wanted to sulk, let him. “Oh, I’m fine. Very, very fine. And I’m not letting you lick off my frosting.”
“Excuse me?” His eyes practically bulged out of his head. Now, he looked at her. She held up her bra and let it dance before him. He glanced back at the road before squeezing his eyes shut and actually groaning.
“The best part of cake is the frosting. Derek used to lick mine off—every single time, my birthday, his birthday, anywhere—and it used to make me so angry. Until I decided not to let him get to me anymore. And guess what?”
“He stopped licking off your frosting.” He shifted uncomfortably, narrowing his gaze out the windshield.
“Bingo. God, I can’t believe I never bought bras like these before.”
He groaned again.
“I didn’t bother with the nighties. I mean, do women actually sleep in those scratchy things?” She lowered her voice, leaning closer to him. “Some of them had thongs. Imagine that crawling up your butt in the middle of the night?”
“Emmie, I’m a man. You do know that, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” Was she boring him? “Fine. We’ll talk
Fuck. He set one of the coffees down on a shelf, then dragged his wet hand on his jeans. His heart pounded, and he couldn’t for the life of him get the image of Emmie touching herself out of his head. It just kept repeating like a GIF.
He had to get out of there.
SEVEN
She’d taken too long shopping. She could tell because the moment they got in the car¸ Slater cranked the stereo and tore out of the parking lot.
“Sorry about that.” Well, sorry she’d wasted his time. But thrilled she’d taken care of number seven on her list: Wear sexy lingerie.
“No problem.” His hands gripped the steering wheel.
Emmie loved her new bras. Loved them with a passion normally reserved for dessert and pretty office supplies. She sipped her coffee, which he’d prepared perfectly for her, and then set it between her legs, since the old car didn’t have cup holders.
Opening the pretty pink and black bag, she withdrew one of the bras, quickly sliding it out of the tissue paper. She could not believe a bra could be so beautiful and sexy. The teal satin demi cups with black lace overlay had hoisted the girls into the most delectable mounds she’d ever seen.
She held it up by the straps. “Is this to die for?”
He barely spared her a glance.
“I love it,” she said more to herself, since he obviously didn’t care about bras. “How far is your mom’s?”
He didn’t answer, just kept his gaze trained on the road, jaw set tightly.
Okay, he was pissed. She flicked off the stereo. “I thought you wanted me to go in there.”
He frowned, giving her a dismissive shrug like,
Whatever
.
“I didn’t take that long, did I? I mean, come on. Less than twenty minutes.”
He ignored her and turned the music back up.
Taking another sip of her coffee, she balled up the tissue paper, put the bra back inside, and pulled out another one. Tearing off the paper, she brought this one to her chest and clutched it. This one she
adored
. Super-sheer black lace covered in tiny yellow and white daisies, it had nice lift from the underwire but plunged deeply across her cleavage, exposing lots of skin and making her breasts really bouncy. She’d never felt sexier in her life than when she’d tried it on.
She flicked off the stereo. “This one’s my favorite. Isn’t it pretty?”
He sighed, all long and drawn out, letting her know his exasperation. “Sure.”
He hadn’t even looked at it. “Okay, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing.”
“We’re adults, not middle schoolers. We don’t say,
Nothing
. If I took too long in the store, just say so.”
“You’re fine.”
If he wanted to sulk, let him. “Oh, I’m fine. Very, very fine. And I’m not letting you lick off my frosting.”
“Excuse me?” His eyes practically bulged out of his head. Now, he looked at her. She held up her bra and let it dance before him. He glanced back at the road before squeezing his eyes shut and actually groaning.
“The best part of cake is the frosting. Derek used to lick mine off—every single time, my birthday, his birthday, anywhere—and it used to make me so angry. Until I decided not to let him get to me anymore. And guess what?”
“He stopped licking off your frosting.” He shifted uncomfortably, narrowing his gaze out the windshield.
“Bingo. God, I can’t believe I never bought bras like these before.”
He groaned again.
“I didn’t bother with the nighties. I mean, do women actually sleep in those scratchy things?” She lowered her voice, leaning closer to him. “Some of them had thongs. Imagine that crawling up your butt in the middle of the night?”
“Emmie, I’m a man. You do know that, right?”
“Uh, yeah.” Was she boring him? “Fine. We’ll talk
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