“Would you watch me?”
His slow nod sent my pulse skyrocketing.
To hide my mixed-up emotions, I twisted, peering back over my shoulder to beckon him, like I would’ve done to a client in the brothel. “Follow me. Bring something to sit on.”
The low drag of the dining room chair pursued me down the hall to the bedroom.
Inside, I snapped on a lamp, though the lights from the arched windows to the city created a pretty glow. I slipped off my heels, my actions reflected in a big mirror on the wardrobe as I worked through how I’d do this for a real client. There would be lingerie, for sure, something lacy and revealing. I had the nicest collection of tiny thongs and exquisite bras.
I hid my shaking hands behind my back and faced Tyler. “When you emptied my apartment, you brought the contents of my underwear drawer, right?”
He inclined his head.
“Go pick out what you want to see me in.”
Tyler settled in the chair, a few feet from the bed.
I tutted. “I’m in day clothes.”
He didn’t budge.
If skintight jeans and a hoodie were working for him, who was I to judge? I knelt on the large bed, a hand to the woodenpost. “I’d start out by asking what my client is into. What he wants from his girl. What turns you on, Tyler?”
His lips curved. “I’m looking at her.”
He was impossible. I planted my hands on my hips. “I mean kinks.”
“I don’t have any.” He stared for a beat longer then sat forward, his gaze never leaving me. From his pocket, he extracted his keys. He stripped one off and tossed it to the bed. “Mine for this apartment. I was serious when I said the place is yours. Manny can change the passcode to whatever ye like and he won’t tell me.”
My heart sank. “You’re leaving me?”
Tyler shook his head, his expression tight. “I made my claim to everyone else, but yours is the only opinion that matters on crossing any lines.”
I followed his train of thought. From kidnap to consent. I loved that. Adored how he put my needs above his, even though I’d asked for this.
I ducked my chin, emotion rushing over the heat. “You make me into something precious. I’ve never been that to anyone.”
Tyler didn’t look away. Not once.
It was that steady regard that allowed me to keep going.
“Hands stay where I can see them,” I said softly.
His hands formed fists, knuckles whitening.
I inhaled, letting the breath travel all the way down. Stripping was familiar territory. My body remembered even when my mind freaked out.
I reached for the hem of my hoodie and didn’t rush it. Let the fabric slide over my skin inch by inch. Felt the air kiss my stomach, my ribs. When it cleared my chest, I paused, just long enough to notice the way my pulse skittered under my fingers.
Tyler’s breath hitched.
That sound curled something warm and reckless low in my belly.
I rolled my shoulders, easing the hoodie the rest of the way off, and dropped it to the floor. No posing. I didn’t perform. I just existed, kneeling on the bed in a soft cotton bra and skin, letting myself feel solid. Present.
“Still watching?” I kept my voice light.
“Like I could look away,” he muttered.
