Page 49 of About that Fling
“That’s just it, I don’t want to sleep with him. Fuck!” She raked her hands through her hair, making weird wet rows around her face that gave her a beautifully crazed appearance. “I want to sleep with you, but obviously that’s not possible, and the whole thing made me think about how I’d feel if you slept with your ex—I mean, forget the fact that she’s married to someone else?—”
“Seems fair,” he muttered, “since she managed to forget it when she was married to me.”
She blinked and he could have kicked himself for the bitterness in his tone. Jenna swallowed, then let it go.
“I thought about how I’d feel if you slept with an ex,” she continued. “Or anyone, really. I didn’t like it, Adam. I didn’t like it at all.”
He nodded, not sure what he was supposed to say, but pretty sure he was underdressed for any sort of serious conversation. For that matter, Jenna wasn’t very well attired either, and she was dripping puddles of rainwater on the floor beside his door. She shivered, and Adam felt goose bumps prickle his own skin. A breeze drifted through the open door, so Adam pushed it shut, hopeful it wouldn’t make her feel trapped.
“Look, first things first. You’re soaked to the bone.” He fingered a damp strand of her hair, knowing he shouldn’t go any further with touching her. Not yet. Not while she was this upset. “What did you do, go for a swim in the Willamette?”
“No,” she said. “I just started walking, not really going anywhere, and then I got caught in the rain and I realized I was standing right in front of your hotel. I started feeling guilty, but I couldn’t decide whether to come up or not, so I ended up standing out there a lot longer than I meant to.”
“How did you find my room anyway?”
She shrugged. “You said you had a suite with a kitchen, and all of those are on the tenth floor. From there, I just started knocking. I’m pretty sure the guy in the room next door thinks I’m a hooker.”
“A hooker with a bad sense of direction and a habit of forgetting to take her clothes off before showering. Come on. Let’s find you something dry to put on.”
She shot a nervous glance around the room, seeming to realize for the first time that she’d landed herself in a room alone with him and a bed. She stood motionless for a moment, then stepped forward, hands at her sides. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” he said, moving to the bureau beside the bed. He pulled open the drawer where he’d stuffed his gym clothes, thankful she’d caught him just a couple days after he’d done laundry. He grabbed a pair of workout pants and a sweatshirt, along with a thick pair of socks. He handed them to her and shivered as his fingers brushed her frigid knuckles. “Here, try these. Bathroom’s right over?—”
Jenna yanked her sweater over her head, and Adam lost track of whatever the hell he’d been about to say. She wore a pink bra made sheer by the rain, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away as she reached between her shoulder blades to unhook it.
“—or you can just change right here.”
She smiled and gave a small shrug. “It’s not like you haven’t seen it before,” she said, turning her back to him as the bra dropped to the floor. “I’m sure my aunt would say this is what a sex goddess would do.”
“Absolutely,” he agreed, too transfixed to come up with anything smarter than that.
She pulled the sweatshirt over her head, making Adam dizzy with the thought of those lovely bare breasts pressing against the soft fleece of his favorite college sweatshirt. “Besides,” she said, “it seems fair considering you’re standing there wearing nothing but your boxers.”
“Very team spirited of you.”
“Thanks. I’ve been working with a mediator on my team-building skills.”
She toed off her clogs and reached for the button on her jeans. Adam hesitated, wondering if she wanted him to watch. Hell, he’d pointed out the bathroom, so she had privacy if she needed it. He gave up wrestling with the etiquette and just stared openly, transfixed by the sight of her peeling her wet jeans down those pale, flawless legs. He stood mesmerized as she hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties.
“You’re staring.”
“You want me to stop?”
“No. I figure I owe you. For the photo the other night. And for answering the door looking exactly like you did in the picture.”
He laughed. “In case you wondered if I had my team of Photoshop experts airbrush the shot before I sent it to you?”
She shook her head and wriggled out of her panties. His sweatshirt hung to mid-thigh on her, which prevented the whole thing from being a strip show. This was hotter somehow. Less staged, more intimate.
“You definitely don’t need any airbrushing,” she said.
“Neither do you.”
Jenna pulled the sweats on, rolling them a few times at the waist so she wouldn’t trip on the cuffs. She pulled the socks on, then ran her fingers through her hair. Adam shook off the haze of the last few minutes to turn toward the bathroom. He grabbed her a clean towel, and while he was there, spotted another pair of workout pants on the floor. Tugging them on over his boxers, he returned to the room and handed her the towel.
“Thank you,” she said.
“No, thank you. Definitely the highlight of my week.”
