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“Is what supposed to look sensual?” I croak, a fresh wave of heat coursing through me.
Mitch shakes his head this time, as if trying to dispel inadequate thoughts, and then says to me, “You should put on something, the weather is chilly.”
I blink up at him, watching the way he seemed to struggle with himself, and then I smirk, feeling very smug.
“No, Mitch,” I say in a syrupy tone, “I do not feel like wearing anything.”
He looks a bit exasperated, but says, “I guess your favorite pastime gets you hot and bothered. Isn't that why you aren't putting on clothes?”
I blink, trying to fight the blush that flushes my cheeks. Now, it's his turn to smirk like he's won. Then, an idea flashes through my mind, and I smirk at him.
“Of course, I get hot and bothered, what I don't get is why the sight of my arousal turns you on.” I say this with my voice several octaves lower and then slowly part my legs, toss my head back and sweep my hands across my entire body, allowing a breathy moan to slip past my lips. Mitch watches me, mouth wide enough to catch flies.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
He's now visibly aroused, his Adam's apple working hard, and then, suddenly, he whirls around and moves toward the door.
“I'll be back, make sure you put some clothes on.”
I laugh at his retreating back, feeling very smug. I dart inside the house the moment Mitch slams his front door closed and look for something to wear.
CHAPTER6
BETH
I settle on a button-down with shorts. When Mitch makes his second appearance, he rings the doorbell. As I open the door, the words fly out of my mouth before I know it.
“Isn't this what you should have done the first time?”
“How do you know I didn’t?” he retorts. “You were too far gone to hear the doorbell go off that day.”
I blush hard and turn away, ignoring his stupid smirk.
“Why did you order me to put on clothes?”
“Because it's the sensible thing to do in this weather? Also, I wanted us to go get lunch.”
I face him with a frown. “I'm not going on a date with you, Mitch. And that's the wrong way to ask me out.”
Mitch stares at me in disbelief, throws his head back and laughs. Why? I don’t know. There is nothing funny about this.
“We aren't going on a date. It's going to be a work thing.”
“Oh.”
“Yes,” he says as if he finds me amusing. “I don’t date my employees.”
“Uh.” Now I’m embarrassed. “Give me a minute.”
Rushing upstairs, I quickly change into skinny jeans.
Just because Mitch, who finds me attractive, does not want to date me, doesn’t mean I can’t look my best. When I round the stairs, Mitch in the foyer, eyes perusing my body.
We both say nothing as we head outside towards his driveway where his car idles. I’m a bit surprised at the simplicity of the ride but do not ask. Mitch courteously opens the car door for me and I blush a little as I settle in. Even though this isn’t a date, I don’t understand why it feels a lot like one.
We drive in comfortable silence; Mitch appears to be deep in thought. When we get to the quaint little restaurant, he parks, rounds the car, and opens my side of the door. I smile up at him and we both make our way into the restaurant. I remember coming here a lot in high school and telling my best friend about Mitch. Now that I think about it, I realize how much I had centered my teenage life around him.
Mitch pulls the chair for me and makes himself comfortable opposite me, studying me. I blush and look away. I opted for my glasses instead of my regular contacts. My hair is still held up in a bun and I know stray hairs have slipped out of it. I almost self-consciously pat my hair down but hold myself off from doing it. With my glasses, I’m able to see Mitch very clearly and I’m once again breathless from how good-looking he is.
