Page 51 of The One Who Saw Her: Boone

He turned his head and there she was. Standing in the doorway in a light blue sundress with tiny straps he could tear off with his teeth, and city-girl heels that had fuck me written all over them.

Instead of looking away, Boone held her gaze—and kept pumping, harder and faster until the lace began to cut into his sensitive skin. He watched her eyes glaze over with an erotic combination of embarrassment and lust—and that was all it took.

Boone blew his hat. So hard that he nearly passed out. Eyes squeezed closed, teeth clenched, head thrown back, squeezing the shit out of those red lace panties. His orgasm was so violent the way he lost control, bucking until his legs burned from excursion. Yet, he rode it out until there was nothing left.

Holy fuck, he thought, as he spilled his last drop.

CHAPTER 21

Vivi was starting to suspect that writing dating bios for other people was just emotional torture wrapped in flirty adjectives.

Her laptop hummed on the kitchen table, cursor blinking like it was judging her life choices—mainly the one where she'd moved to the middle of nowhere and accidentally developed feelings for a man who used the word "crick" without irony.

She tried to focus on Brad, thirty-four, investment analyst, who claimed he was "adventurous" instead of "chronically overconfident" and was the human equivalent of a navy-blue suit. But her brain had other plans like flickering back to yesterday and to Boone—wet and bare, and looking her dead in the eye like some kind of cowboy fever dream. It was the kind of moment no amount of martinis or expensive therapy could ever erase.

She dropped her head into her hands and groaned—god help her. She wasn't built for this. She was built for overpriced rent and subway delays, not barn dust and flannel or whatever the hell Boone was doing to her nervous system.

Vivi stared at her phone like it had suddenly turned into a live grenade—and pulled up Glow for moral support.

"Hey, Glow," she said into her phone. "Can you⁠—"

Delete.

"Hey Glow, I need advice about⁠—"

Delete.

"Glow. So… um…"

And…delete.

Nothing sounded sane or normal. And nothing could possibly capture the sheer disaster of accidentally walking in on Boone with his dick in his hands and her panties wrapped around him like a vice.

How do you even start to explain that away?

"Glow, what is today's Glow Up exercise?" she finally asked.

"Today's exercise is: Shake It Off. Dance like no one's watching while having your shake-it-off moment."

Vivi considered asking if there was another option, then decided this was her moment to let go and burn off some steam. Without further hesitation she pulled up the song on her phone, shoved her chair back, and went full Taylor Swift mode— twirling and dancing like the floor was on fire.

Her arms waved in the air, her hips swished, and her voice hit every note like she was headlining Madison Square Garden while having her Shake it Off moment.

Boone was naked yesterday. Completely, ridiculously, painfully naked. So what? I am a grown-ass woman. I remain unshaken.

She jabbed a finger at the ceiling, imagining she could punch all her brain's dirty thoughts straight out of existence. For dramatic effect, she climbed onto the table, striking a triumphant pose like some unhinged cabaret star. She spun, did a little dance move, and nearly toppled a stack of paint chips.

She was mid-hair flip when the door swung open.

"Okay, now I'm wondering if the Taylor Swift thing comes with a warning label," he said, laughing.

Vivi froze, then snorted—half laughing, half trying to hide her blush. "It does not, but clearly it should."

Boone pushed through the doorway and moseyed over, and there was nothing casual about the deliberate way he moved—like a man who'd already made a decision and was taking his time getting there. His hands wrapped around her hips, nearly spanning her entire waist.

"Alright, pop star," he said, voice low. "Time to get down before someone calls the fire department."

Vivi's heart did a full somersault as he guided her down, letting her body slide slowly against his like the world had condensed into the space between them. Something chemical and hormonal ignited in her chest, her stomach, and her knees—all at once.