He stared at my breasts as I spoke, then ran his gaze farther along my body. “Sophie.”
“I thought if I came over, maybe we could talk.” I made a wide swipe across my lips with my tongue and caught some fuzz, probably from the inside of my work shirt.
Robert crossed the threshold in my direction, pupils dilated. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I swung my legs over the counter’s edge and sat tall. “I know, and I’m so sorry,” I blurted. I didn’t think my acting skills were good enough to cover the fact I hated him. Even wearing only a bra and panties.
He loosened his tie. “This is ... naughty.”
“Oh.” I grimaced. Once again I’d underestimated his ego. The thrill of tricking him was quickly snuffed by the reality of my predicament. I couldn’t keep up the facade of wanting him. Even if I forced the words through gritted teeth, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from vomiting if he touched me.
“Did you come to apologize?”
“Uhm.” I was out of words and in a new predicament now.
His gaze flickered to mine, then back to my body. “Are you here to beg forgiveness?” he asked. “Or did you come for a punishment?”
I bit the insides of my cheeks to avoid laughing at his ridiculousness. Was he truly so daft? Or was this what looking at those magazines had done to him? Too many years spent imagining those women posed just for him.
Gross.
Robert released his tie with the whip of one arm. “Fuck, Soph. Where was this version of you before?”
If I lifted either foot quickly enough, I could kick him in the crotch before he knew what happened. I leaned back as he stepped closer, craning for another look at the bag and boat title hidden beneath my clothes.
His next step brought him against my knees, thoroughly eliminating my view of anything else.
“We should talk first,” I said, attempting to buy some time. “Or maybe you want to take a shower while I wait in the bedroom?”
He dug meaty fingers into my ass and hauled me to the edge of the counter with a dark chuckle.
I squealed at the sudden movement, and he laughed.
“That’s my girl,” he cooed. “Always so on edge. But I like this new you. Needy and brave.”
I made a disgusted, throaty noise. “I am not needy.”
He pulled back, scanning me with a smirk. “No?”
“No. And this isn’t a new me. It’smeme.” I scooted back on the counter, putting a few inches of space between us before he tried to touch me again.
Something familiar passed in his eyes at my disagreement and rejection. “You changed your hair,” he said. “It looks incredible. I’ve been telling you to cover your grays for years. I’m glad you finally listened.”
My mouth opened in outrage, but he pressed ahead.
“And from the looks of those lacy white panties, you got a new look down below too. Who knew a little time away could make you so hot?”
I pressed my knees together, hating that he could tell I’d gotten a Brazilian wax. That wasn’t for him to know. But thanks to laundry day and my smallest, least favorite panties, it was easily noticeable.
Fueled by his own evil, he added, “And you lost a little weight. You’re making improvements all around.”
I burst into loud, fake tears, and he jumped back.
“What the hell?”
“You think I’m fat,” I said. “You thought I needed to lose weight.” I pushed him out of my way and launched off the counter, then crouched to gather my things. “Wah!” I cried. “You hate me! You don’t want me! I’m ugly and gross!”
“I do want you!” he hollered. “Where are you going?”
