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“You’re immensely talented. Have you ever thought of entering these photos in any local contests? I’m sure these would win every award.”
“Not really.” I shrug my shoulder. “It’s just a hobby. Helps me relax when things get stressful.”
“Well, maybe you could take the photos for the new marketing campaign.”
Taking a few steps back, I flop down on the couch. “It’s a possibility.”
The couch dips as Seth sits next to me. My legs slide toward his until our thighs touch, the contact causing my heart rate to accelerate. How can the simplest touch set me on fire? When Seth’s gaze meets mine, the same desire pools behind his eyes. Feeling exhilarated, I twist to push him back against the couch and hike a leg over his lap, so I’m straddling his thighs. I cup his cheeks and press a kiss to his lips. His hands reach around me, his fingers press into my cotton covered backside to pull me closer. A moan escapes me, and Seth takes that as an invitation to deepen the kiss.
Before I know it, he’s twisting us so that my back is on the cushions with his body hovering over me, resting most of his weight on one elbow. Seth trails his finger down my cheek, across the hollow of my neck, over my collarbone, and down my arm before he clasps my wrist and drags it over my head. Then he continues the movement on the opposite side and drags my other arm over my head. He uses one hand to clasp my wrists together, causing me to push out my chest. His gaze wanders down to where my breasts strain against the buttons of my blouse, then his lips are on mine. I wither beneath him when my fingertips graze a familiar lace fabric. While I deepen the kiss, I attempt to shove the lace farther into the couch. Shimmying under Seth, I hope he thinks I’m trying to rub against him and not hide my panties.
Seth’s lips pull away from mine. “What are you doing?”
Shit. Guess I wasn’t as inconspicuous as I was hoping. “Nothing.” I try to feign innocence, but Seth’s not buying it. How is he so observant?
He narrows his eyes at me. Then his gaze drifts up to where my hands are. He sits up, resting his weight on his elbow while he uses his other hand to toss the pillow to the floor exposing my hands.
“You’re up to something.” A smile spreads across his face and I can’t fight the smile on mine. He pulls up on my hands and as they raise, my lace panties also comes with them. “Well, what do we have here?” Seth plucks the lace from my fingers. “Please tell me these are yours?”
A laugh escapes me. “Of course, they’re mine.”
“That’s not like an emergency underwear supply? Like you’re sitting on your couch thinking of me and then suddenly you need a change.”
I slap his chest. “Oh my God! No! Who would have a secret stash of underwear in their couch?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.” He quirks an eyebrow.
“I did laundry earlier and set out all my bras and panties to air dry. I tried to clean up and missed a pair.”
“So that’s what you were doing while you made me wait in the hallway.”
I cover my face with my hands, mostly to hide my embarrassment. “You are so neat and organized. I didn’t want you thinking I’m a slob who doesn’t know how to clean.”
Seth slowly peels my hands from my face. “I’ll let you in on a secret. I’m not attracted to you because of your tidiness or lack thereof. Plus, I’ve seen your desk at work. I know what I’m getting myself into.” He winks and kisses the tip of my nose before sitting up. “I’m going to get some water. Want anything?” Seth rises to his feet and moves into the kitchen.
“I’m fine. There’s water in the fridge.” I sit up, my butt on the edge of the cushion.
“So, the loud banging I heard while you made me wait in the hallway, that wouldn’t have to do anything with you tidying up, would it?”
“Don’t look in the oven.” I cover my face again and flop back down on the couch.
The creak of the oven door opening echoes through the apartment. “Oh. This might be a deal breaker.”
“Shut up. I didn’t want you seeing them in my sink. I’m going to wash them after you leave.”
Seth returns to the couch with a bottled water and sits down. He eyes me suspiciously as he twists off the cap and takes a drink. He replaces the cap and sets it down on the end table, his lips tip up into a playful grin. “Anything else you want to confess? Mystery closet filled to the ceiling?”
“No closet. But I now have a drawer in my bathroom that has all my make-up and hair products dumped inside.”
“How do you live your life like this?”
“Organized chaos.” I shrug my shoulders.
We sit in a comfortable silence, side by side, on the couch. But there’s one question I’ve always been curious about and there’s no time like present to find out.
Breaking the silence, I ask, “So why did you hate me so much? At work?”
Seth reaches for my hand and brushes his thumb over the top. “It wasn’t so much that I hated you. I just hated your disorganization. I think you’re better than that. But let me ask you the same thing. Why’d you hate me?”
