Page 42 of Wardrobe Malfunction

Drew kisses Lexi, his hips pumping hard against hers. Her legs move, coming around his waist, the stilettos of her heels digging in his back.

Charly’s boots.

My mind flashes back to that scenario of fucking her with only those boots on.

Oh, Jesus, no.

I’ve got a hard-on.

I’ve got a fucking hard-on.

Think of something to get rid of it.

Mom. Grandma. Grandma naked.

Fuck! It won’t go down.

It’s because I haven’t had sex for so long.

Now, he’s up, and he’s not going anywhere.

Natasha slides her hand into my hair, bringing her lips to my ear, which is now concealed by her arm. She whispers, “You okay?”

She can feel my erection.

How could she not when it’s poking her in the thigh?

God, I’m mortified.

I’m fucking this up—literally.

This has never happened to me before.

It’s all Charly’s fault for being so hot and being right here.

I need to get a handle on this.

“Cut!” Brandon calls.

Thank fuck.

“What happened?” Natasha asks, tipping her head back, staring me in the eyes.

She looks uneasy, and I feel like a fucking pervert.

I close my eyes on an embarrassed groan. “I’m so sorry.”

She laughs. “Don’t worry. It’s fine. It happens.”

“Not with me, it doesn’t.” I’ve never gotten a hard-on while doing a sex scene. “It’s not you,” I reassuringly tell her.

“I don’t know whether to be insulted or relieved by that statement.” She laughs again.

“I’ve got your robe, Natasha,” Logan says from beside us.

“You okay to move?” Natasha asks me.

“Um…” I glance around for the current source of my problem because she’ll be the one with my robe.