A knock on the door disrupts my already unsteady hand. Shit. That’s a mess. “Just a minute.” I wipe my eyeliner clean with a wet tissue and answer the door.
Tom looks me over. He copies the tone I used earlier. “That’s what you’re wearing?”
“Is there something wrong with it?”
“It’s 90s night. You need color. Come on.” He steps into the room and crouches over the suitcase, pawing through my stuff. He tosses a navy mini skirt and a pink crop top on the bed. “That will be better.”
That will certainly be less. The top is minuscule and the skirt is barely long enough to cover my ass. “I don’t think so.”
“Try it.”
I shake my head.
He reaches for the bottom of my dress. “Don’t force me to remove your clothes.”
My heartbeat picks up.
“You have five seconds. Four.” He looks me in the eyes, daring me. “Three.”
I step backwards. “Okay. I’ll try it. Wait in the bathroom.”
“As you wish.” He does as he’s asked.
The room feels different without his presence. Colder. Less inviting. I change into the skimpy outfit as quickly as possible.
“Okay. You can come back.” I press my hands over my stomach as I check my reflection. I can’t wear this. It’s nothing.
Tom looks me up and down. All that smugness falls of his face. His eyes go wide. His lips part. “That’s no good.” He pulls my hands to my sides, his fingers brushing my exposed skin.
“Why?”
Tom traces the exposed skin on my side, from the top of my skirt to the bottom of my crop top. “Just change back.”
“Why.”
His cheeks flush. “It’s too sexy.”
He’s nervous.
“Change. Now.” He shifts towards the bathroom, his body brushing against mine.
He’s still close. Still warm. I reach for him, get the back pocket of his jeans. I need to say something. That I can be sexy if I want. That it doesn’t matter what Tom thinks.
Only it does. I want him to think I’m sexy.
“Tom.” My hand brushes against his hip. “I… I want to look sexy. You do. You always look desirable. Why can’t I do the same?”
I go to step back into some bold, confident pose, but my foot catches on the bedspread. Shit. I slip and fall backwards. My ass hits the bed. Then slides down to the floor. Bam. I’m on my back, my legs spread. I press my hands into the ground to push myself up.
Tom’s gaze passes over me. It stops between my legs.
“Uh…” His eyes cloud with desire.
He watches me with rapt attention as I rise to my feet. At my thighs, my hips, my stomach. By the time he works his way to my eyes, I’m buzzing like a power line.
Touch me, please.
Throw me on that bed.
Kiss me.
Something.
Author Bio:
Crystal Kaswell writes steamy new adult and erotic romance books. She loves when flawed characters fall head over heels for each other. Especially if they fall into bed first. She loves police procedurals, tea, and The Hunger Games series. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband.
Rock Your Heart Out
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