was the color of a prize-winning tomato. Even his ears were crimson.
She had a feeling she was blushing just as hard. She wasn't sure what was
worse, getting caught jerking off... or getting caught watching someone jerk
off.
"Uh," he said. "Uh,
I didn't hear you..."
Snark came to her rescue, as it
often did at embarrassing moments. "That's obvious," she said,
walking up the rest of the steps and heading toward him. Thank God a woman's
arousal didn't show like a guy's did. He had a lot more to be embarrassed about
than she did.
At the thought, she glanced down at
his jeans. There was still an enormous bulge there, straining the worn fabric.
That had to be seriously uncomfortable.
"Uh," he said again.
"I guess, uh..."
She reached down and snagged the
picture right out of his hand. "Well," she said softly, somehow
surprised even though she'd heard him saying her name in that low, sexy voice.
"It is me."
It was a photograph of her dressed
a lot like she was now, wearing an old William and Mary t-shirt and a pair of
shorts. Not a terribly sexy photo. In fact she was pretty much swallowed up by
the oversized t-shirt, so her curves weren't even visible. It was about as far
from a centerfold picture as you could get. True, there was a happy smile on
her face, but she was pretty sure guys didn't get off on happy smiles.
She glanced down at Mason's bulge
again and realized maybe she didn't know everything there was to know about
guys. Or at least Mason.
"Why me?" she asked
softly.
He reached out and snatched the
picture away, putting it down carefully on the end table. His embarrassment
seemed to be fading, and he looked defensive. Almost annoyed.
"Why not you?"
"I didn't think you... I mean,
we're friends ."
"Just because we're friends
doesn't mean I'm blind, Lora."
Maybe he wasn't blind, but she must
be. Because she'd had the hots for Mason for a year now, but it had never
occurred to her that he might feel the same way about her.
And hots was all it was, she was
sure. She understood that what he felt for her was lust. Not romantic love, or anything along those lines. But that was okay,
because that was pretty much what she felt for him, too. She had a boyfriend,
and she didn't have any lingering feelings for Mason... beyond those pesky
thoughts of running her hands all over his body, anyway.
God, she wanted to touch him.
The image of her hand moving over
him grew too vivid to fight against, and she lowered her hand to his shoulder.
Through his t-shirt, she could feel solid muscle layered over his collarbone.
He jumped, and she felt a shudder pass through him.
"Lora. Uh. I think maybe you'd
better..."
"Take it easy, Mason."
She ran her hand down over his chest. "I'm harmless." He lifted an
eyebrow, looking dubious, and she grinned.
"Well... mostly
harmless."
Even through the burgundy fabric of
a Redskins t-shirt, he felt as hard as she'd expected, bone and muscle and
sinews all wrapped up together in one very sexy package. He felt hot to the
touch, and another shiver racked him as her hand moved down his abdomen.
"Lora..."
Never one for subtlety, she caught
the hem of his shirt and tugged at it. "Let me see what's underneath,
Mason."
"Uh." He grabbed at his
shirt. "I don't think that's a good idea, Lora."
Apparently he was a little nervous
about blurring the line between fantasy and reality, and she didn't blame him.
It was scary to step over that line. She had a feeling she was going to have to
give him a shove. "What were you thinking about just now?" she asked
softly.
He glanced up, just for a second, then lowered his eyelashes. "You."
"Obviously." She lifted
her hand to his ebony hair and stroked it gently. "But what specifically?
I find it hard to believe the sight of me in a t-shirt turns you on that
much."
She heard a low, wry chuckle.
"I was thinking about the lake, actually."
She thought about that for a
moment. "You mean the picnic we had out there a month ago?"
He nodded.
She thought about that
Anthony Bourdain
Anne Stuart
Jamie Hill
Robert Louis Stevenson
A.M. Madden
Paloma Beck
Jade Allen
Edmond Barrett
Katie Graykowski
A. L. Jackson