‘Cat got your tongue? You know, you instigated this,’ he says, drawing out the words.
‘I did?’ I glance down and answer with a deflated sigh. ‘I’m wearing my onesie.’
It’s his turn for a moment of introspection before he speaks. ‘I’m trying very hard to imagine but given that I don’t know what anactualonesie is, I may need a little help.’
‘It’s a sort of an all-in-one pajama thingy. Starting at my feet, which are covered in... little booties? And ends at my neck. With a zip.’Shoot me. Please, somebody put me out of my misery.‘A bit like what babies wear.’
‘You’re wearing a baby sleep suit?’ he asks in a slow tone of bewilderment.
‘Obviously not one anactualbaby would wear, but yeah, a sleep suit sounds about right.’
‘Is this some kind of fetish of yours?’
‘What? No!’ He can’t be serious. ‘It’s just cold in the air con...’ I hate how this comes out in a whine. Why didn’t I tell him to bugger off and look at the Asos website?
He groans. Without passion. ‘Don’t you know how this conversation is supposed to go?’
‘Sorry.’ I giggle, rolling onto my side. He really is laying this on thick. ‘Would it help if I said it’s in a leopard print?’ That’s sort of sexy. I won’t tell him it has a hood with cute ears and a tail because thatwouldbe weird.
‘Strangely, no.A baby suit?’
‘What if I told you I was entirely naked under said suit?’ I can’t believe I just said that. Seriously. And in that tone, too.
‘Go on,’ he purrs. ‘Include the words wet and want along with that naked.’
His words curl around my ear, creep down my spine and explode just south of my navel. ‘I just got out of the shower.’ I’m not entirely sure wherethatcame from, but I definitely feel a little wet and wanting myself, not to mention warm all of a sudden.
‘And?’
‘I’m all soft and smooth... shaven.’
I wouldn’t know seductive if I’d rolled in it.
‘Shaven where, specifically?’
‘The usual places—legs, underarms.’
‘Anywhere else?’
‘What?’ Where else? I don’t have hairy fingers.Ohhh. ‘No. Nowhere else. I don’t want to, er, invite ingrown hairs.’
Stop. Talking. Now. Or tell him I haven’t found a decent wax therapist?
‘Ingrown hairs.’ He makes those two words sound positively lewd.
‘I prefer waxing, despite a... recent hiatus.’ My shoulders are bunched around my ears. Who explains the intricacies of theirtoiletteto a drop-dead gorgeous guy? I may have begun this conversation with the mention of bed, but I’m pretty sure this isn’t how it’s supposed to go.
‘Would it be very wrong of me to say I’m quite aroused at thisjuncture?’ Arousal at the mention of ingrown hairs, or are we still on wet and wanting?‘I’d say my mind is in the rightregionfor arousal, but there are other regions worth... exploration, too.’
The smile in his tone distracts me from his allusion, though I’m pretty sure we aren’t talking geography. Or topiary.
‘You have such a beautiful body, Kate.’ His appreciation hums down the line. ‘I want to explore it all. Can you imagine?’
Can I? Not really, but it doesn’t stop the almost mesmerizing effects of his voice. Grasping the pen from the nightstand, I suddenly feel the need to underline my mantra again.
‘You looked so beautiful draped against the back of the sofa that first evening. It’s become an erotic flashback which makes me hard at the most inopportune times.’ He laughs softly and all I can think is,he’s seen me naked and he’s thought about it. More than once!‘It’s such a rush to watch the things you’ve imagined, the moments you’ve planned come to life. I can’t help but picture how you’d look braced over the arm of that sofa. Held open. High and wide.’
My fingers fumble, sending the pen sliding across the pad as his words and their mirroring images flash through my head.
