"Oh." She sinks back in her seat, mulling this over before she decides I've lost it. "You probably need glasses, Sidney."
"The fuck I do, butterfly. I see just fine."
"Not if you think I look like sex," she grumbles. "I can't even breathe with these Spanx on. The wire in my bra has been jabbing me all night. And I stabbed myself in the eye with the eyelash curler twice." She meets my gaze, hers wide. "If this is the price of beauty, can I please opt out?"
She needs absolutely none of that to be the most gorgeous woman in the room.
"Why the fuck are you wearing Spanx?"
"Ask my mom," she says, shrugging. "She's the one who swears every woman needs a good bra, a better pair of torture underwear, and enough Botox to turn back the clocks."
Jesus Christ.
"Take them off."
"What?"
"If they're bothering you, take them off."
"But…" She gapes at me like I just suggested she get naked and ride me on the side of the road. "You'll see."
"I'll close my eyes," I growl, approximately two seconds from hauling her onto my lap to strip them from her perfect body myself. No fucking way is she riding all the way across town in a waist trainer she damn sure doesn't need. If I didn't respect the hell out of Tye, I'd throttle their mother for forcing her into the damn thing in the first place.
Her curves are perfect. She's soft in every single way, every inch of her designed to sink into. Believe me, I know. I've spent more time than I care to admit with my hand on my cock, fantasizing about her.
She stares at me silently for a long moment and then shrugs. "Okay, but no peeking, Sidney. My underwear is embarrassing."
Jesus Christ. I'm not going to survive the trip to her place.
I snap my eyes closed when she unlatches her belt and lifts her hips. That lasts all of five seconds before I crack one open, unable to resist stealing a little glimpse. What? Ineedto know what she considers embarrassing underwear. Sue me.
I damn near bite through my tongue, trying not to laugh as she wriggles around, trying to conquer the Spanx and maintain a modicum of dignity. She's the least graceful woman I've ever met. She proves it now. Somehow, she manages to crack her knee on the dashboard, get tangled up in the seatbelt, nearly fall onto the floor, and then get tangled in the Spanx before shefinally gets them down, red in the face and mumbling under her breath.
I catch a glimpse of her underwear right before her ass lands in the seat again. Christ Almighty. There are cupcakes on them. She has cupcakes covering her…cupcake.
I've never wanted to eat something more.
"Jesus, take the wheel."
"What's that?"
"I asked if you were finished," I lie, gripping the steering wheel hard enough to snap the motherfucker in half.
I cannot fuck her on the side of the road.
I cannot fuck her on the side of the road.
I cannot fu—
"I'm finished," she says sweetly.
I pop my eyes open to see her cramming a wad of fabric down the front of her dress.
"No pockets." She grins at me.
My life is hell. It's absolute hell.
Neither of us speaks as I pull back out onto the road, heading toward her place, but I feel her eyes on me. She's blatantly staring.
