Page 76 of Homewrecker

"No, no they don't. I'm not even going to tell you how often I wash my bras because you'd be horrified."

"I'd like to talk some more about your bras. Go on." He walks over to his dresser and opens a drawer.

He pulls out a Metallica t-shirt that has faded from black to gray from repeated washings and throws it at me. It's worn in and soft and about three sizes too big for me. He's never getting this shirt back. I snap off my bra and toss it to him, hiding my naked chest with the sheets. He catches it and stares at it for a second before looking over at me with lustful eyes.

"You're trying to kill me, aren't you?" he says.

I cackle and pull the shirt over my head, letting him have one glimpse of my fabulous breasts.

Fifteen

When I wakeup the next morning, Seth isn't in bed. For a second, I entertain the thought that he's in the shower, and my fantasy of getting under the water with him can come true. Forget about waiting to have sex. After a night of kissing, talking and touching, I'm ready now.

The noises I hear are coming from the kitchen though. I brush my teeth with my new red toothbrush, pull his comb through my hair and wash my face before padding out into the living area wearing only the huge Metallica t-shirt and underwear. The shirt is long enough to cover everything that needs to be covered and leaves a lot of my legs to be appreciated. Seth is standing at the stove, and Mutt is at his feet, waiting for something to drop.

"Hey," Seth says, turning to greet me. "You look good in that shirt. There's coffee if you want some."

"Umm, yes, please.” I yawn, still bleary-eyed from sleep.

He gives me a famous Seth half-smile and goes back to cooking. As I pass him on my way to the French press, I run my fingernails across his broad back. He's wearing only a pair of basketball shorts, and he doesn't look nearly as sleep-deprived as I feel.

"I'm making scrambled eggs," he says. "I hope that's okay."

On the countertop, there's a cutting board with chopped vegetables on it and a bowl of whisked eggs. My vegetables would be random sizes and shapes; his are nearly identical cubes.

"How long have you been up?" I ask.

"I'm on military time, remember?" he says, evading my question.

I squint at him suspiciously. "Have you been watching me sleep for hours, you creeper?"

"No, Mutt and I went for a walk this morning. Then I did a little reading on the porch. I thought if I made some food, you'd smell it and get out of bed, lazybones."

I'm not much of a morning talker so I sit down on a counter stool and watch him cook, delighting in the precise way he moves, not leaving any countertop messes. Even with his bandaged finger, he's a neater cook than I am. Mutt doesn't get any droppings, but Seth throws him a carrot and the dog happily disappears into the bedroom with his treasure.

I'm amazed at how normal this all feels. A week ago, we were sworn enemies. Now I'm sitting around in my underwear and a t-shirt while he makes me breakfast. Life is strange.

When my meal is ready, Seth walks around to my side of the counter and slides it in front of me. The plate is full of fluffy eggs dotted with colorful vegetables and a side of buttered toast. My mouth begins to water at the smell of it.

"How can I ever repay you?" I say in the voice of a Southern Belle, reaching out for him.

He slips his arms around me and kisses me gently on the lips. My fingertips play over the muscles and bones of his shoulders, wanting to explore every part of him. What starts out as a slow, playful kiss, quickly turns into something more, and in seconds, my legs are wrapped around his waist.

"Damn," he says, leaving my arms too quickly. "You are irresistible."

"So don't resist me," I suggest.

"You eat your breakfast.” He gives me one last kiss on the neck. "Because if we keep this up, I'm going to strip your clothes off right here and all that good food will be wasted."

"Ooh, what would you do with me?" I ask, cutting my eggs with my fork.

"I'd sit you right on that countertop and take my time with you," he says, returning to the stove to fix his plate of food. "Head to toe."

I take a bite, but have trouble swallowing. Just watching him cook is erotic. Add the sex talk, and I'm about to slide right off this stool onto the floor. I have no idea how I'm going to wait until the end of tonight's date to jump this man's bones.

* * *

I spendthe afternoon washing and ironing my new yellow dress like it's my job. When I bought it a few weeks ago, I never thought I'd be wearing it on a date night with Seth. I should be tired from staying up until all hours of the night with him, but instead I'm fizzing with anticipation.

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