“Everything looks flattering on you,” he replies.
“Charmer.” Secretly I swoon.
“Well, since you’ve been busting your ass with jogging, I’d better tell my mom to keep feeding you. Wouldn’t want it to shrink.”
“Can we stop talking about my ass?” I giggle into the phone, biting my lip.
“I happen to think it’s a wonderful ass. Round and perky, begging for a little smack.” I ignore the smack comment, even though it sends heat right to my core.
“When did you inspect it so well?”
“Oh, lots of opportunities. You know, your little suits aren’t as safe as you think. They fuel the imagination.”
“Your imagination,” I correct him. “I doubt everyone looks at me with such ideas.”
“I’d better be the only one.”
“Caveman.”
There is some commotion in his background, and someone’s calling his name. I can’t believe he still has meetings at this hour. “I’ve got to go,” he says. “I miss you.”
“I miss you too.”
***
Thursday after work, I decide to treat myself and go to the spa. After another visit to Andrew, some of my tension has bled away, but Andrew can’t give me what I really need. Only Sebastian can, and there are still forty-seven hours until his return.
Yep, I’m counting the hours.
Feeling mischievous, I decide to spoil myself with one more treatment at the spa.
“So how was your day?” I ask Sebastian that evening.
“Same as the others. I had a few New Yorkers in meetings. They are starting to get on my last nerve. Why do they have to sneer every word in that affected accent?”
At once, I get defensive. “Well, it’s better than your neither-here-nor-there San Francisco accent.”
“Are you kidding? It’s much clearer.”
“You really want to engage in a battle of accents, Sebastian? I’ve lived in New York forever, and had decent stints in Australia and even England. I can take you.”
“I bet you can,” he says. His voice is suddenly throaty, a sign he’s not talking about accents anymore. As a matter of fact, neither am I.
“I was at the spa today.” My voice is as throaty as his.
“Oh, the princess needed another massage?”
“Yeah, I have so much tension in my body.” I stretch in my bed, guttural sounds escaping my throat.
“I have a cure for that. It’s much more efficient, trust me.”
“So much teasing.” I barely keep my voice from faltering, but two can play at this game. “Do you want to know what else I did at the spa?”
“Yeah.”
“I got a Brazilian wax,” I whisper.
“Jesus, are you trying to kill me?” He lets out a low growl, which makes my skin tingle.