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“Youcan, but youdon’t.”
“Yes, I do.” He called every night Ellie stayed with Cassie, and Cassie called every night Ellie stayed with him. He talked to her every day. The few times he’d tried dating over the years, he hadn’t even talked to his girlfriends that regularly.
“You call to talk to Ellie,” she reminded him. “She’s not here.”
Of course, she wasn’t there. He’d arranged for her to stay with his mother, so he could spend the night with Cassie. But the damn stubborn woman had needed toconsidersleeping with him.
“I call to talk to you sometimes,” he told her.
She scoffed. “When?”
“Last week I called to see how that new class at the bookstore went.”
“You called about Ellie’s dentist appointment.”
“No. I called about the class. You started talking about the appointment,” he corrected her.
“Oh.” That one little sound brought back the memory of every moan and whimper that had fallen from her lips earlier. “So, why’d you call tonight?”
Whyhadhe called? Just to hear her voice? To make sure she wasn’t freaking out about what they’d done in his hallway? To see if she’d reached a conclusion about sleeping with him again?
“To ask what you’re wearing,” he answered instead, because he couldn’tnotpicture her in a garter belt and thigh highs bent over a bench.
She blew out an exasperated breath. “Ryan.”
“What?” He smiled as he settled against his pillows.
“I’m wearing pajamas.”
“What do they look like?” He closed his eyes. What did Cassie wear when no one was around? Would she wear lingerie for him? Or maybe one of his shirts?
“You’ve seen me in pajamas.”
True. He’d seen her wear them on vacation with Ellie, or on Christmas morning opening gifts. But what did she wear when she was just Cassie and not Ellie’s mom?
“What are you wearing Cassie?” His voice dropped, turning the question into a command.
Cassie’s breath hitched, and his dick twitched.
“A tank-top.” The sound of her swallow travelled through the line. “And panties.”
Ah hell. How did she make such an innocent word sound so sexy?
“What kind of panties?” His voice cracked on the last word, his suddenly dry throat making it difficult to speak.
“The kind that cover the important parts.”
He barely stifled a moan at the thought of a tiny scrap of fabric between him and Cassie’s “important parts.”
“Cassie,” he growled.
She giggled, her laugh floating away before coming back to him. “Check your texts.”
“What?” He tried to picture her in a pair of panties and a tank top. Would they be black silk or white cotton? Both possibilities made him throb.
“Check your texts,” she repeated.
Reluctantly, he pulled the phone from his ear. She’d sent him a text. He tapped the notification and dropped the phone right on his boner. Snatching up the device, he stared down at the image on the screen. A pair of sheer bright pink panties with small opaque polka dots disappeared between soft, creamy thighs. Cassie’s outer lips were just barely visible beneath the fabric.Oh, holy hell.
