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He put his hand on my arm, which was new. The simple touch sent little flashbulbs of white through my vision and made me feel electrically charged. “I did a lot of thinking. And yeah. I’m done waiting.”

“Okay,” I said, laughing a little as we walked into the kitchen. “I think maybe you’re building this up a little more than it deserves.”

Jack gave me an oddly lingering look. “I doubt that very much.”

For the first time, I started to feel like I wasn’t quite on the same page as him. I dismissed the thought and helped the kids get to bed. We hadn’t let the boys have a sleepover since the last incident that ended with Jack tackling a couch so hard it got him erect. Griff and Ben started running excited loops around the bedroom hallway when I told them what was happening.

I waited on the couch with my phone in my hand while Jack lingered awkwardly in the kitchen. I kept feeling like he was watching me but dismissed the idea because any time I looked his way he was doing something else.

“Okay,” I said, about half an hour later. “I think the boys are down.”

Jack walked to the loveseat directly across from me and sat his ankle on his knee. With an elbow resting on the armrest, he placed his index finger across his lips and waited, watching me like some sort of art connoisseur about to pass judgment.

I cleared my throat. “You’re absolutely sure everything is okay?”

“Why don’t you start with that blouse. It looks a little too tight.” His voice was a low, gruff rasp.

I widened my eyes and stared at the floor in disbelief. Then I tugged on my collar a little, confirming I wasn’t losing my mind. The blouse wasn’t even close to revealing, so I had no idea what could be upsetting him about it. “Okay. Something’s up your butt. Why don’t you just come out and say it?”

“Uh,” Jack looked legitimately confused. “I’m not really into that sort of thing.”

I raised my eyebrows. “It’s not my problem if you aren’t into the style of my blouse.”

“No,” he fumbled for something in his pocket. He tapped a few times on his phone, then shook his head. “Your text. Did I misread it?”

I frowned. “What does my blouse have to do with—” I was already pulling out my phone to re-read the text.

I have some nudes to share. Might be best in person.

Jack’s eyes met mine, and in that moment, we both knew.

I felt my face go so red I thought my hair might start curling up at the edges and smoking from the heat on my cheeks. “Autocorrect,” I whispered.

Jack slid both palms down his face, looking like he’d suddenly just felt a few weeks’ worth of exhaustion land on his back. “It appears there has been a misunderstanding.”

“Wait,” I said, feeling the first hint of a smile on my face. “You weren’t mad when you got here. You were excited.”

“It’s not really possible for anyone to know what another person feels or thinks.”

I laughed. Jack looked like he wanted to die, and it was adorable. The big, bearded, muscle-clad mountain of a man sitting across from me was embarrassed.

“I mean,” I said, getting up and making a mockingly seductive face as I peeled off one of my pink socks. I twirled it suggestively over my shoulder a few times. “If you wanted to see a little skin, all you had to do was ask.” I slingshotted the sock toward him. It soundlessly ricocheted off his forehead. Jack didn’t even blink.

“You shouldn’t tease me.”

I raised an eyebrow, cat walking toward him. “No? What are you going to do? Fire me? Write me up for my blouse that ‘looks too tight?’”

I was trying to tease him, but the truth was I felt all kinds of hot and bothered. I was pretty sure my panties had set a world record for self-soaking the moment it clicked that Jack was excited when he’d thought I was going to strip for him.

I lifted the hem of my shirt, showing a glimpse of skin.

What started as a joking striptease was growing more and more dangerous by the moment. I could feel the electric power of his attention—the way my every movement was commanding the focus of his eyes. His gaze was hungry. Burning.

His excitement just moments ago had been iron-clad permission. He wanted this. He’d been out of his mind with anticipation for it.

I pulled off my other sock, then got close enough to dangle it in front of his eyes before I dropped it in his lap. “If you were wondering,” I whispered. “Yes. That is a little kitty cats face on my sock. So, in a way, I guess you could say you didn’t leave completely disappointed. Since…”


Tags: Penelope Bloom My (Mostly) Funny Romance Romance