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Next option? Plan B.
I pulled up the right text window and hurriedly texted August.
Text your sister and distract her. Make something up. Tell her your table is on fire. I don’t care, something.
He replied immediately.
If I tell her my table is on fire, I have to set my table on fire. I quite like it.
I grinned and thunked my phone against my forehead. He was so ridiculously logical.
Fine, then you come up with an idea. I messed up and I’ll only tell you how if you fix it.
Blackmail, Ms. Scott?
Is it working?
Send me a picture of your tits and I’ll fix whatever you like.
My throat flushed hot, along with my chest and all the rest of me. Had I really thought of August as sweet? He definitely could be, but then he’d let loose with a little dirty talk or a couple of well-placed sexy words and I turned into a puddle. As soon as he’d realized how I blushed when he said those words—and how much my body responded—he’d made sure to pepper them in as often as possible.
Well? I’m waiting. I’m sure Ivy is too.
I glanced over my shoulder at the door I’d shut behind me. At least no one would come in. But I had customers, including a new one whom I felt immensely guilty about already since we’d christened her apartment without her permission.
Even so, I didn’t send up a token protest. I definitely didn’t consider ramifications. I just…opened a door.
And my shirt.
For good measure, I pushed down the cups of my pale purple bra so the slightest hint of my nipples peeked over the satin material.
I took the picture and sent it, after double and triple-checking I’d picked the right text window again. Ivy and I were super close, but I was pretty sure she didn’t want to see how I truly flushed all over when I was embarrassed.
And so turned on my panties needed to be wrung out.
Quickly, I nudged my breasts back into my bra and buttoned my shirt. I almost wasn’t fast enough, since August called me instead of texting.
“You realize I’m going to save that picture for the rest of my life.” His voice had dipped about three octaves lower than it normally was. The low timbre skated over my nerve endings and made my already hard nipples tingle.
“I didn’t even look at it.” Because if I’d looked, I would’ve analyzed it. If I’d analyzed it, I wouldn’t have sent it.
I didn’t want to be that cautious look-eighteen-times-before-you-leap Kinleigh any longer.
“I sure did. I’m looking at it right now. In a minute, as soon as my last customer finishes browsing, I’m going to go into the back and pull out my—”
“You are not. You’re not going to waste that in your hand.” Was that really me sounding so breathless and needy and seductive?
Somehow it was.
“Then come down here and climb on top of me and take care of what you started.”
I swallowed over the dryness of my throat. “Technically, my clumsy fingers started it. I meant to text you and I texted Ivy.”
His rough chuckle was equally arousing. “I hope you didn’t tell her how much you love my—”
“Shh.” A laugh escaped me as I re-tied the shirttails of my shirt. “No. My text said we desecrated Bess Wainwright’s newly finished apartment the night of Macy’s wedding. Bess is in the shop right now, and when she told me where she was moving in, I fled into the back like a criminal.”
“So that’s what started your gorgeous flush this time. Made your nipples that deep dark pink I love.”
