Page 44 of Summer Affair
With a sigh, Jillian turned to leave, she honestly did, when Clay suddenly stood. It was like a scene from one of those cologne commercials, where the beautiful, athletic man comes out of the water like a Viking warrior, his body glistening under the moonlight, his dark hair slicked back—sex-filled aura dialed to do-able.
“Oh my stars,” Jillian breathed. “You are going to see that man naked this summer.” Because, while he said she got to set the pace, that image had kicked her curiosity into overdrive.
Her mouth went dry as she watched him get out of the pool, towel dry his hair, and throw the towel over his shoulder—as if he couldn’t be bothered by something as common as drying off.
Jillian ogled him as he walked across the patio, gawked when he bent over to grab his phone, and panted as he disappeared into the house. With a hand to her chest—which was pounding erratically—she leaned back against the wall and did a slow slide to the floor.
“You, Jillian Conner, are an honest-to-god peeper and you should be ashamed of yourself,” she said with a dreamy smile on her face.
It took another few minutes to gather herself before she floated into the bathroom to get ready for bed. She pulled out a pair of pj’s that she hadn’t worn in ages, a silky, light-yellow camisole with matching shorts—the fabric feeling erotic on her skin.
She ran a brush through her hair and when she met her own gaze in the mirror she froze.
She wore a dreamy smile, her eyes were bright, and, more concerning, she was glowing. The glow fell somewhere between big-time crush and completely smitten on theYou’re Toastscale.
“You better get it together, because you’re tying more strings than a group of biddies at a quilting bee.” And wasn’t that what she’d just agreed to? A no-strings summer fling?
Then again, no strings didn’t mean no ogling. Although, she decided at that moment that any future ogling would happen when he could see the ogle. Then she pinkie swore with herself before she slid into bed. Nuzzling into her pillow she reached up and turned off the light.
And that’s when it happened. Across the way, Clay’s bedroom light flickered on and what she saw was too powerful a moment not to watch. Blinds wide open, she had a front row view.
Clay was fresh from the shower, walking around his room—completely and utterly commando.
Once again, he had a towel slung over his shoulder and his hair was standing on end from being finger dried. His body was a machine, toned and sinewed with enormous muscles.
Everywhere.
She watched as he moved around the room with the grace and power of an athlete in his prime. Michelangelo’sDavidhad nothing on this man.
And what a man he was. Intellectually, emotionally, and physically. Although it was the physical part that had her slipping out of bed and tiptoeing toward the window. Cloaked in the darkness of her room, Jillian watched, her body quivering with arousal.
He walked toward the nightstand, gifting her a view of that butt. He might be a star running back, but Clay Easton’s tight end deserved to be in the NFL Hall of Fame. With the windowsill blocking his lower half, Jillian stood. If she went up on her toes and craned her head a little to the right, she had a perfect view of his—
Her phone pinged with an incoming text. Afraid the glow of the cell would give away her position, she raced across the room and leaped across the bed, grabbing it right as the second ping came in.
Heart racing and blood thundering in her ears, she let out a relieved breath, then read the text. Now her pulse was racing for a whole other reason. Her phone didn’t recognize the number, but her heart did.
Unknown: See something you like?
Jillian’s entire body heated. She closed her eyes and told herself that it was the wrong number. Although her nipples knew exactly who it was. She decided to play it cool.
Jillian: I’m sorry, I don’t recognize the number. Who is this?
She was going to burn in hell for that lie.
Unknown: The man you’ve been spying on. Tell me, Cupcake, are you more of a pool peeper or a shower peeper?
Jillian threw the covers over her head and closed her eyes as if that would erase this very embarrassing moment. Then she thought back to their earlier conversation at Stout, and how they’d agreed to be open and genuine, and she answered back.
Jillian: I see a lot I like.
Unknown: You need to be more specific.
Jillian: Pool Clay made me want to go skinny-dipping. Shower Clay made me wet.
A thrill raced through her body. Jillian was in the middle of a game of sexting. Well, maybe not sexting, but for sure text-ual foreplay.
Unknown: You’re playing with fire, Cupcake.
