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“No!” The man had basically just told her to strip half naked in the bathroom of some cheesy diner. So, no, she absolutely did not understand.
“What part didn’t you get?”
“I don’t understand why you’d ask me to… you know. Do what you said.”
The corners of his lips kicked up in obvious amusement. “I didn’t ask if you understoodwhyI asked you to do it. I asked if you understoodwhatI asked you to do.”
“Well, yes, I understood the instructions. But, I—”
“Then that’s all you need. Now, go. I don’t like to repeat myself.” When she didn’t move, he raised an eyebrow in a way that made her want to simultaneously punch him in his gorgeous face and throw herself at his feet. “Waiting for an invitation, Katherine?”
“I just want to know why, then I’ll go.” Maybe.
“You’ll find out when you come back to the table.” His expression softened. “Unless you want to stop. Just say the word and I’ll drop it.”
Stopping would be the smart move. Common sense and decency practically demanded she get up and walk out without a second thought. She barely knew him, and he’d given her no reason to trust him enough to follow his outrageous orders. And yet… “What if I don’t want to stop?”
“Then I expect you to do as you’re told. Little girls who don’t listen don’t get their rewards.”
“Reward?”
“Mmhmm. You’ll see — if you’re a good girl.”
“Fine.” Huffing out a breath, she grabbed her purse and scooted out of the booth. Although she knew it was unlikely, it felt as though every eye in the diner was following her to the bathroom. Would they know? Would anyone notice when she emerged without her pantyhose?
Again, unlikely. But the idea that someone might notice, that some stranger might realize she was completely naked under her conservative pencil skirt, sent butterflies dancing in her belly. Normally, she didn’t care to be noticed. In her experience, it was rarely a good thing when people paid too much attention to the big girl.
Austin was paying attention, though. And so far, he’d shown no signs of being disgusted by her. Riding high on that knowledge, she slipped into a stall and hung her purse on the hook. With a deep, bracing breath, she hooked her thumbs in her pantyhose and wiggled them down her hips. Carefully balancing on one high heel, she slipped her foot from inside the stocking before slipping it back into her shoe, then repeating on the other side.
Already she felt deliciously naughty. Not once in her adult life had she gone to work without pantyhose, unless she was wearing pants. The satin lining of her skirt brushed against her skin, a sensation she’d felt hundreds of times before, but now it felt positively sinful.
With her pantyhose stashed in her purse, she reached for her panties and pulled them down over her thighs before she could change her mind. Letting the scrap of satin drop to the floor, she stepped out of them and snatched them up to shove them in her purse.
She hadn’t even left the stall and already her cheeks were flaming. Closing her eyes, she took several deep breaths until she felt the heat fade. If she walked out of there looking like a tomato, people would definitely be staring, and not in the way that gave her those butterflies she’d gotten during her walk to the bathroom.
Once she felt passably under control, she opened the door and stepped out. Studying her reflection in the mirror as she washed her hands, she looked for any outward sign that she was engaged in some weird sex thing in the middle of a diner.
When her careful perusal of her reflection didn’t turn up anything untoward, she dried her hands and headed for the bathroom door.
The noise hit her first. Had it been this loud just a few minutes ago? Or was she more aware of her surroundings now that she was so scandalously clad?
Then she saw him, watching her from their table, his hungry gaze glued to her, and everything else faded away. When had a man ever looked at her like that, like she was his last meal and he’d worn out his welcome on death row?
Never that she could remember. She wasn’t the type of woman men looked at with need burning in their eyes, a fact she was reminded of every time she stood in line at the grocery store and came face to face with rows of women with lush breasts and flat tummies on the cover of every magazine. Or when she tried to find something—anything—in her size in an actual store without being relegated to the “fat girl” section or forced to shop online. And that was just the passive, day to day crap she’d learned to live with. It didn’t even begin to take into account the active bullying she’d endured. She’d heard mooing from more people than cows in her lifetime.
No, most men didn’t want women like her. They lowered themselves to fuck the fat girls on occasion, but they didn’t crave them. Nobody wanted squishy thighs and round tummies in their beds if they had another option.
But Austin had other options. Hundreds of them. And unless she was way off base, he wanted her. She just had no fucking clue what to do about it. Sliding back onto the bench beside him, she tried not to freak out about being so completely and utterly out of her depth.
“Good girl,” he murmured when she was settled in beside him once again.
“You don’t even know if I did it.”
“Yes, I do. You weren’t walking that stiffly on your way to the bathroom.” Brushing her hair back from her face, he leaned in, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered. “Tell me, kitten, does it turn you on? The idea that everyone in this diner might discover that you’re naked under that sensible skirt?”
“No.” But even she wasn’t convinced.
“Little liar,” he said with a low, rumbling laugh. “You know what happens to liars in my world?”
