Multiple.
I step into the walk-in closet, which is basically empty except for Josh’s shirt I slept in and the clothes I got at the boutique with Lareina and Fiona. I put on my new underwear and the pretty blue dress and matching sandals.Wow. I stare myself in the mirror. The color deepens my eyes so they’re a more vivid violet. The red lipstick creates a fantastic contrast, and doesn’t look too much at all. I feel like a million bucks in my new outfit.
Now, where are those panties?It’d be embarrassing if the housekeeping staff found my unwashed undies lying around. Except I can’t find them on the floor. Weird. I could have sworn I dropped them by the bed last night.
I rip the sheets and blankets off the bed. Nope. Not there, either. They couldn’t have just walked out of the room. I drop to my hands and knees and look under the bed, just in case. Still nothing.
My phone rattles on the table. I jump up and reach for it. Maybe it’s my panties texting me to come pick them up.
–Max: Hey, just checking to see how you’re doing. Did you end up doing anything exciting with forced proximity to your hottie boss? Oops, fiancé now.
My lips stretch into a smile.
–Me: No.
–Max: Not even a kiss?
The memory of the kiss crashes into me. How he devoured me, and how it was better than any sex I’ve ever had. I run my tongue over my prickling mouth. But I know better than to tell her the truth because then she’ll want to call and talk about it. And I really have to go to work.
–Me: Stop writing romance novels in your head.
–Max: Boooring! Tell me the man at least hinted he wanted to do things to you.
I dreamed he wanted to do things to me.
–Me: I need to get to work. Ugh.
–Max: Why the ugh?
–Me: Because I can’t find my underwear. Maybe it got tangled in the sheets.
Except I already shook the sheets out twice. My panties aren’t that staticky.
–Max: Underwear? Like your bra or panties?
–Me: Panties.
–Max: Ooooh!
That “ooooh!” sends the wrong kind of shivers down my back.
–Max: Bet Josh took them.
–Me: What? Why would he sneak into my room in the middle of the night to steal my underwear?
–Max: HE’S A GUY. To sniff? Masturbate with? To make a ribbon out of it and tie it around the base of his cock?
A feverish heat suddenly pulses in my veins. Just imagining him groaning my name while he pleasures himself makes me achy between my legs again. I shift my weight, trying to get a grip on my imagination. I don’t have another thong to put on, and I really don’t want to be dripping when I face Josh in less than five minutes.
–Me: Are you writing romance or porn in your head?
–Max: Don’t be judgmental. This romance stars adults with needs.
I laugh softly.
–Me: I know my limitations. I’m nothing like the women he used to date. I’d have to fast and hit the gym for a year before I’d look like them.
–Max: If he wanted to be with them, he would be. Instead, you’re in his home.
