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I glance her way.
“You’re horrible at hiding it. I know the man has an ass you could bounce a quarter off of, for sure, but don’t think for one second you’re fooling anyone with these little pranks and gags.”
“What does his ass have to do with it?” I ask, planting my hands on my hips and facing my best friend.
“Nothing. That was just an added fact. His ass is marvelous.”
“It really is,” I agree, leaning on the counter and taking a bite of my cinnamon roll. “You should see it naked. Uh-may-zing,” I singsong with food in my mouth.
“I knew it!” she bellows victoriously. “I can’t believe I’m eating this,” Free adds, dropping what’s left of her roll back into the container. “I swore off this kinda thing.”
“You can’t swear off cinnamon rolls. It’s sacrilegious,” I tell her, finishing the rest of mine in two bites.
“It’s the sugars. I’m trying to cut back and eating more natural foods,” she informs me before picking back up her breakfast and finishing it off.
“I’m going to move a few displays around. I was thinking of moving the pajamas over by the far wall and moving the body products closer.”
“What are you going to put up by the window then?” she asks, tossing everything from our breakfast in the trash.
“I was thinking those new negligées we just got in.”
“The old geezers in town will have conniption fits. Let’s do it!” she proclaims, meeting me around front and helping me get to work.
A half hour later, I’m neck deep in satin and lace, putting a pretty light pink nightie on my mannequin when I hear the bell over the door. Heavy footfalls follow, and my heart rate spikes, but I don’t look up from the task at hand.
“Good morning,” Free singsongs from across the room, where she’s rearranging the displays of pajamas.
“Morning,” Latham’s deep voice floats through the air and zaps me between the thighs.
His shadow falls over where I’m working, but it’s his scent that catches my attention first. It’s rich and clean and so very sexy. It makes me want to throw him down right here on the floor and have my wicked way with him. “Mr. Douglas, to what do I owe this surprise visit?” I ask without releasing the smile that threatens to split my face in two.
“Ahhh, come on, Sweetheart. It’s not really a surprise, is it?” he asks. The irritation I expected to hear is void from his voice.
“I’m afraid I have no clue what you mean,” I tell him, finally glancing his way and overly exaggerating my eyelash batting.
He laughs. “Sure you don’t,” he says, reaching down and touching the long pink satin. “This is nice.”
“Isn’t it?” I ask, looking back at the gorgeous negligée.
His breath tickles the back of my neck as he whispers, “This would look amazing on your delicate skin. I think you should let me buy you one.” His lips graze ever so lightly over my suddenly heated flesh.
“I already have one,” I whisper.
“You do?” His hands press into my lower back and slide along my hips until he’s holding me tightly against him.
“I do. In ivory.”
Latham groans in my ear. “Fuck, that’s hot. I’ll be over at eight tonight. Answer the door wearing that. Only that.”
I gasp as he nips at the back of my neck, goose bumps rising on my entire body. “What if I already have plans tonight?” I ask, pushing my rear back and against his erection.
“You do have plans. Me.”
Before he lets go, he kisses the back of my neck once more. I feel the void of his body against mine immediately. A craving sweeps in like never before. “Oh, thanks for the coffee,” he states, his dark eyes alive with mischief.
“You’re welcome,” I reply, refusing to give anything away.
“Next time you replace the sugar shaker with salt, make sure there are no witnesses to your crime,” he informs.
