“I love when a woman talks dirty.”
She rolled her eyes and went back to the rack. When she turned around, Drew was pulling off his shirt. Her gaze may have lingered a bit on his abs while his shirt covered his head.
And she might have sighed in pure feminine appreciation.
He flipped the button on his jeans, and she found herself staring. She caught the curve of his lips.
“Are you sure we’re just trying on clothes, or is this some nefarious plan to get me naked so you can sex me up on your worktable?”
As soon as he’d said it, visuals of climbing on top of him and riding him on her oversize worktable filled her mind.
“Of course not.”
“Good. Because I’d like to bend you over that window seat and take you from behind.”
Her gaze immediately shot to the window. “Seriously? At the window? Where people could see us?”
“Come on, Lina. Living dangerously is half the fun.”
She could already feel him behind her, pounding into her while she planted her hands on the window seat, wondering who’d be looking in from outside.
Heat flared through her body. She pushed it aside.
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Too bad. Just the thought of it made my dick hard.”
He shrugged out of his jeans, his erection very evident against his boxer briefs.
“Well . . . unharden it.”
He laughed. “Kind of difficult since it’s all I can think about now.”
It was all she could think about, too, damn him. She made an about-turn. “I’m going to get clothes. You work on that problem.”
“So, you want to watch me jack off?”
She pivoted in a hurry. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Your cheeks are pink. I’ll bet you’d like to see that.”
“Dammit, Drew, I didn’t bring you here to have sex with you. Now get serious about this.”
“Oh, I’m very serious, Lina.”
She stared at him—at his face this time, to let him know just how not funny she thought he was being.
“Okay, fine.” He stared at the ceiling.
“Now what are you doing?”
“Counting ceiling tiles.”
She tapped her foot and waited, trying not to stare at his cock. It took about a minute, but he finally nodded. “Okay, let’s play dress-up.”
She took the first outfit out of the garment bag. She’d chosen a pair of workout pants and a tight-fitting T-shirt. He put them on.
“Shoes?”
“I have some. Hang on.” She started into the other room, then stopped. “Oh, I need your size.”
He told her, then she dashed in and came out with shoes. He put them on.
“Now, walk,” she said.
“Walk, where?”
“Back and forth, like you’d be walking on the runway.”
“How?”
Of course. He was a guy and had likely never seen a fashion show. “Like this.” She demonstrated, walking the length of the room, pivoting, then walking back.
He smiled. “You have a great ass.”
She rolled her eyes. “Now you do the same.”
“I hope you don’t expect me to walk all girlie.”
“I don’t. I expect you to walk like a man.”
He slid his hand into the pocket and took a stroll.
God, he was a natural. Some models took years to perfect a walk like that. Drew took seconds to head down the room, stop, turn, and head back.
Women would be falling at his feet.
And even better, the outfit looked magnificent on him. He was tall, lean, with chiseled looks that would serve him well on the runway.
Or in a magazine.
Or on a billboard.
He was perfect for her line.
“How did I do?”
“Great. Stand there for a second.” She ran and grabbed her notebook and took a photo of him in the clothes. “Now put this set on.” She handed him the next outfit. He undressed, put it on, and did the same walk. She made notes and took photos while he tried on six different outfits.
He wore them all incredibly well. And didn’t complain once about being bored or irritated.
“Thank you for doing this,” she said as he climbed out of the last outfit.
“We’re done already?”
“Yes. Why? Did you enjoy it? Thinking of hanging up your skates and becoming a model?”
He laughed. “Not on your life. But for you, I don’t mind.”
He’d been so great about this. Even the professional models hated trying on clothes. Dressing them in an outfit and sending them down a runway at a packed show, fine. That’s what they were paid for. But they found fittings tiresome.
“You were awesome.”
He stepped toward her. “So does that mean I get some kind of reward?”
“Uh, like what?”
He wrapped an arm around her and tugged her close. “I was thinking we could go make out on the window seat.”
“And I think you can get dressed now.”
Surprisingly, he let go of her and took a step back. “Okay, if that’s what you really want.”
The feel of his rock-hard body against hers made her want him.
And then he’d let go of her. So easily. Shockingly, actually, as she watched him climb into his jeans.
She was surprised by her disappointment. “Seriously? You’re getting dressed?”
He looked up at her. “Isn’t that what you want?”
“Yes. No. I mean, yes, of course. We should go.”
“What do you want, Carolina?” he asked, his jeans still unzipped, hanging on his hips and making him look sexier than he did when he was standing there in his briefs. She could sketch him, just like that, the hint of his hipbone shadowed by the denim . . .
God, she was insane. Drew did this to her. Somehow this was all his fault.
“I need to get back to work. Make some adjustments to the clothing, line out the models.”
He walked over toward the door. Confused, she frowned. He wasn’t fully dressed yet. What was he doing?
When the lights went out, she was disoriented.
“Drew?”
“I’m right here.” He whispered, his body coming up to nestle behind hers. He wrapped his arms around her, then kissed her neck.
She shivered, closed her eyes, and tilted her head to the side, giving him access. Maybe it was seeing him mostly unclothed, or seeing him in her clothes. Maybe it was his cooperative spirit and the way he’d given himself over to modeling for her.
She didn’t know, and right now, right here, in the dark, with his body so close to hers, she stopped questioning it, stopped questioning herself. She only wanted Drew, only wanted his lips gliding along the column of her throat, pulling her sweater aside to nip at her shoulder.
She shuddered, and when he walked them forward, toward the window, her body pulsed with excitement.
“I’ve been thinking about you—about this window seat—since we walked in here tonight.”
He raised her sweater, spreading his hand across her stomach. Ripples of desire quivered throughout her body.
“I missed you while I was gone, Lina.” He whipped her around and cupped her chin, then kissed her, a searing hot kiss she felt through every nerve ending. She wanted more, wanted to be closer to him. She leaned into him, tunneled her fingers into his hair and moved her body against his.
When he groaned and cupped her butt, she knew she wanted him inside her. She’d missed him. That one night together—the night she thought would be the last time between them—hadn’t been enough.
She pulled back. “We could go back to my place.”
He smiled at her, a dark, dangerous smile that thrilled her. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Lina?”
“Uh, back in my apartment? In my bedroom?”
He laughed and turned her back around. “Look out the window. No one can see us. It’s dark in here. But you can look down at them.”