“I’m a big guy, honey. To me, you’re a tiny thing.”
Her eyes change from big and round to more of an angry glare. “So,comparedto you, I’m little.”
“You’re five feet nothing. To lots of people you’re little.”Jesus. Remind me never to use the word “little” again.
Suddenly, her eyes go from angry back to round. “Oh. You just meant I was short?”
“No.” I rub my hand over my face. I forgot to shave, so I’ve got a rough jaw. My hand moves from my face to hers. “Listen to me, baby girl…” She rolls her eyes, and I let it go. We’ll address that later. “No more talking shit about yourself. Yeah?”
“I wasn’t…”
At that moment, I lean in and press my lips to hers softly. Pulling back only slightly, I take note of her expression. She’s shocked. “You’re petite, curvy, and beautiful. I happen to think you’re one of the sexiest women I’ve ever seen.”
“You do?”
“I do.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, ‘oh.’ Now knock that shit off, and let’s go eat. I’m starvin’.”
“Okay.”
Chapter Eleven
Underthings
This is all happening so fast. I mean, one minute he overhears me saying I need sex, the next he’s lifting my heavy ass up into his truck. Then he’s telling me he thinks I’m sexy and beautiful? What the ever-loving hell is happening?
Is the universe flipping on its axis?
Wait. Is the universe on an axis?
Note to self: Google that shit.
We decided on the new Italian restaurant. It just opened a month or so ago. I’ve been meaning to get there, but I’ve been meaning to do a lot of things. As he drives, I can’t help but take the time to check him out. He’s got on a gray dress shirt, untucked. He’s paired it with a dark pair of jeans and some cool boots. It’s warm out, but even so, I can’t picture a guy like Sam wearing sandals for some reason. Don’t get me wrong, he’d look good in those, too, he just doesn’t seem the type.
Sam pulls into a spot near the door. I watch him hop down from his side and walk around the front of the truck. My door opens, and I turn so my legs are at the door opening. His hands move to my waist. As I start to slide out, though, my skirt must be caught on something because it chooses to stay on the seat. By the time I’m halfway down, my underwear is on full display, and Sam Griffin has stopped moving. His eyes are fixated on, well, my panties.
“Jesus, honey…”
Yeah. I wore my prettiest pair. They’re lavender with lace that runs around the legs and top edge.
I’m wearing the matching strapless bra, too.
“Sam…”
“Fuck.” Sam’s still got his hands around my waist and my lower back still pressed against the seat, but I’m not moving anywhere. That’s because in the last thirty seconds, Sam has moved closer. “You wore those pretty little panties for me?”
“No.”
“No?” His right brow arches.
I shake my head. “I wore them for me.” There’s nothing like pretty underthings to make a girl feel sexy. Confident. And believe me, when it comes to that, I need all the help I can get.
He leans in a little more, until our bodies are touching. I feel his breath on my cheek as he whispers in my ear, “You gonna let me take those off you later, Colette?”
I can barely breathe. Speaking seems like an impossible feat. It’s why I can only muster, “Maybe.”
