“It…arhh…might be easier to clean and bandage your knee if you take your…arhh, tights off.”
Did his face flush pink? Oh, how adorable. He doesn’t look like a man who’d be embarrassed taking off women’s clothes. In fact, he looks like a man who’d enjoy tearing them off with his teeth.
“You can cover yourself with the towel if that makes you more comfortable,” he suggested.
I tug at my oversized t-shirt that acts like a short dress. It’s not long enough to avoid flashing Hayden my goods when my tights are off. Not that I’d care. But if he flushed bright pink at the suggestion of taking my tights off, what would he do if I flashed him my lady parts? I can’t do that to him.
Taking Hayden’s advice, I drape the towel over my lap. With awkward movements, I shuffle to get my hands under my t-shirt and to the waistband of the tights. The movement puts pressure on my ankle, and I whimper. Shit! That’s not a good sign. If that slight movement is causing pain, maybe I’ve done more damage than I thought.
At the sound of my discomfort, Hayden places a gentle hand on my knee, stopping me from moving again. “Don’t move. Let me help you.”
Help me?The only way he can help me is to take the tights off of me himself.Oh boy!
“If you prop yourself up onto your hands, I can slide the tights down your legs for you,” he continues, unaware of the heat fanning my insides.
I sit in silence as steamy fantasies play out in my mind. First, he’d remove my tights, then slide his hands up the inside of my thighs until he reaches my—
“Alyssa?”
I snap out of my daydream. “Yes?” What did he say?
“Is it okay?” His deep voice washes over me.
“Huh?” My brain is still filled with the remnants of my fantasy.
“Is it okay if I take your tights off?”
“Yes!” I reply, sounding a little eager. In a more subdued tone, I say, “That would be helpful. Thank you.” His lips quirk into a grin, causing my stomach to somersault.
Propping myself onto my hands, careful of the scrapes on my palms, I lift my butt off the sofa. On his knees, Hayden shuffles closer. My heart accelerates. My arms grow weak, and not because of my weight. With a feather-light touch, Hayden’s hands skim slowly along my thighs, disappearing underneath my shirt. My eyes drift closed for a beat. Are my fantasies coming to life? I suck in a breath as he reaches the top of my legs.
“Did I hurt you?” He raises his gaze to me. Desire shoots from his eyes, replacing the adorable, embarrassed expression from moments ago. This man is far from adorable. He is pure sex on a stick. And the way he’s looking at me is making me burn.
I’m so caught up in his gaze, I can’t form any words, so I merely shake my head no.
Trailing his hands to my waist, his eyes remain locked with mine. At the waistband of my tights, he pauses for a beat before sliding his fingers under the elastic. The backs of his fingers brush along my skin, leaving a trail of fire.
I bite my bottom lip to stop myself from making any inappropriate sounds. The gesture makes his eyes zero in on my mouth, looking like he wants to devour it. I haven’t imagined the way he looks at me. This man wants me as much as I want him.
As much as I love the way he’s staring at me, my arms are fatiguing from holding myself up in an awkward position. “Are you having trouble removing my tights?”
He shuffles on his knees. “Just trying not to hurt you.”
Yeah, right. I know an I-want-to-jump-your-bones look when I see one. I inwardly smile at his lie.
His nimble fingers slide the fabric down my stomach. As he hits lower on my hips, they snag onto my G-string. He pauses and drops his head forward like what he’s doing is exhausting. Like he’s losing a fight he’s inwardly battling. When he raises his head, his jaw is clenched, his chest heaving. Does he want to touch me more intimately as badly as I want him to? With each hard swallow, his Adam’s apple bobs. For a second, his eyes squeeze shut.
“On or off?” he asks, his voice deep and husky, barely above a whisper.
On or off?He’s already taking my tights off— Oh! He’s not talking about my tights. He wants to know if I want my panties on or off. A pool of desire floods to those panties. I’ve been fantasizing about this since he first touched me. Now that I know we’re on the same page, can I go through with it? Can I let a man who I only know of through my best friend, a man who is practically a stranger, touch me sexually? Will I let this lead to sex?
From the moment he helped me from the ground, my body has reacted to him like I’ve been familiar with him for years. Which is ridiculous. How can that be? This has never happened to me before.
With his fingers still hooked in my panties, I know he’s waiting for an answer. I’m not usually a one-night-stand kind of girl, nor do I need to have a deep and meaningful relationship. Sometimes I have needs. Buy me a drink and take me out to dinner, and if sparks fly, I’d be up for some dancing under thesheets. Hayden’s giving off more than sparks. I’m getting zapped by lightning bolts.
When I don’t respond, because my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, he asks again, this time through gritted teeth. “On or off?”
“Off,” I whisper. “Definitely off.”
