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Me: Have you been body-snatched? Quick, what did you say to me this morning before I left for work?
It takes half a minute for his response to come through.
Teddy: I told you if you kept trying to lick the sweat off my thigh, I’d give your tongue a reason to stay perfectly still, babydoll.
I cough, looking around my office. The door is open, but obviously, no one can see Teddy’s text. Sure could see my blush, though.
Me: I meant your goodbye, but yeah, proof supplied.
Teddy: 7?
Me: …Inches? I think you’re more like 8.5, which you should know. It’s in your profile for the studio.
There’s a longer pause this time.
Teddy: 7 o’clock for dinner?
Ohh.
Me: Ohh. Yeah, that works.
Teddy: See you soon, sweetheart.
Well that was…sweet. And weird. Since when does Teddy text me ahead of time to confirm dinner plans?
Shaking my head, I get back to work and smash some client calls.
The weirdness continues when I get home.
“Hey,” Teddy says the moment I’m through the door. He takes my work bag from my hand, setting it aside and then lingering as I shuck off my shoes, staring at me all the while.
“Hello,” I say slowly.
“Good day?” he asks, following me into the kitchen while I grab a glass of water.
“Yes, darling.”
If Teddy notices my exaggerated honey-sweet tone, he doesn’t comment on it. He watches me as I drink the liquid down, his gaze not that hawk-like one but something much gentler.
“You feeling okay?” I ask.
“Of course.”
“Mkay.”
Teddy follows me as I head down the hall into the bedroom. I glance back at him once, confused, but he’s acting as if him trailing after me is perfectly normal. He takes up position near the dresser, arms crossed casually over his chest as I slip out of my work shirt and into something more comfortable.
“Just gonna stare?” I ask, amused more than anything.
“You like it when I watch you,” he comments, that gentle look back on his face. It disarms me somewhat, making this feel less like playful flirting and more like… I don’t even know.
“I can give you a show if you want,” I say, easing my pants down slowly.
He snorts, lips twitching. “We have dinner plans.”
“In like…”—I check the clock—“an hour. Plenty of time for you to…watch.”
Teddy’s arms stay crossed as I kick off my pants, leaving them in a pool on the floor. His gaze lingers on them for a moment, as if he’s considering hanging them up, but then I slip my fingers under the waistband of my briefs, and Teddy’s gaze snaps back up to me.
