I step out of my pants, now wondering if he’s still being a gentleman or if really doesn’t care if he sees me naked. That thought should bring relief, but instead it makes me kind of sad. I hope I didn’t blow it with him.
“What do you want to do instead?” I ask.
“We could watch TV.”
“You said there was nothing good on!” I act outraged when, really, I’m happy. I’m glad he wanted to play strip poker with me. That’s a compliment, right? And he’s smiling, so it can’t be all bad between us.
“I lied. Come on.” He does a back flip off the end of the bed and leaves the room.
“Wait for me!” I run out of the room in just my shirt and underwear.
He’s waiting for me on the couch, the television already on. The dogs are curled up together in a giant dog bed on the floor next to the far side of the couch. Sahara is snoring. Felix is crashed out on his back, his feet in the air. I’m tempted to go pick him up, but I don’t. He’ll sleep all night like that, and I want to be with Ozzie right now anyway.
“Modern Family. Cracks me up.” He points the remote to the wall-mounted television set, and the channel changes. I see the familiar faces of Claire and Phil.
“You don’t seem like the Modern Family type,” I say, lowering myself onto the couch one cushion away from him. I’m near the end, he’s in the middle. The thing is big enough for six people, probably.
He flips himself around and lies on the couch, putting his head in my lap like it’s the most normal thing in the world—the two of us watching a sitcom, half naked, in the sword room. I’m obviously living in Crazy Town.
Instead of overanalyzing something that defies analysis, I sit back and watch the show. My hands find their way to his head where I massage his scalp, lightly drag my hands over his temple and cheek, and play with his ears. They’re soft, where other parts of him are decidedly hard. When he laughs, the entire couch moves. He’s adorable and charming when he’s watching this silly show. It’s definitely my new favorite.
At some point during the first half of the program, one of his hands goes under my thigh. Then a little while later, the other one reaches up and goes behind my back. It doesn’t look very comfortable, but when a commercial comes on, I see how well it can work for both of us. He flips over onto his back and the arm that was under my thigh comes out. His hand floats up to my shirt button, the one I closed at the top of my neck.
I pretend to be enthralled with the excellent cleaning features of the Tide Stick that’s being advertised, while he unbuttons three buttons, revealing the edges of my bra. I laugh at a commercial that has a small dog chasing a cat who took his toy, but can’t keep up the charade when his fingers pull the top of my bra down and he cups my breast.
I tilt my head down and stare into his eyes. He’s all seriousness now.
“I like you on my couch,” he says.
“Aren’t you worried someone from the team is going to come in?”
“No. I have security, remember?” He glances over at the hallway leading to the outer door. “I disabled the lock. No one can get in.”
“Even with the code?”
“Even with the code. You could run around here naked, and no one would ever know.”
The idea makes my ears burn. “You would know.”
“But I’d never tell.” He pulls me down and kisses me on the mouth, his tongue coming out and reaching up for mine. It’s not the most comfortable position in the world, but it’s hot. He’s managed to get me half naked and not self-conscious about it. I can see his hard-on in his boxer briefs, so I know if I just said the word, he’d be all over me. But instead, he lets me go and just looks at me. Watches me for a reaction.
“I’m not as nervous as I was earlier,” I say. I need him to know I appreciate what he’s doing.
“Good. You want some popcorn?” He sits up.
I frown. “Do you?”
He shrugs. “Not really. But if you want some, I’ll make it.”
I shake my head. “No, it’s late. I think I’ll pass.”
He sits up with his back against the cushions and pulls me into him. The skin of his thigh is warm against mine. I’m so glad I shaved today. The dark wiry hair of his legs tickles the delicate skin of mine. It makes me think of him and me in bed together, touching everywhere, no clothing getting in the way . . .
He squeezes me tight and kisses me on the top of the head as the show comes back on. “Wait until you see this part,” he says, his mood lightening as he switches into television viewer mode.
So much for a raging hard-on. I sneak glances at it as it shrinks down to regular size, which, for the record, is still big enough to tell me that he must have a hard time finding pants that will fit properly. Wowza.
The longer I sit with him as he gently strokes my arm with his fingers, touches my hair, pulls me into him, the more comfortable I feel. And with this comfort comes a frustration. We are so close to getting sexual, but we’re just not doing it. He’s being a total gentleman, and it’s driving me crazy.
Something needs to be done about this. Something needs to be done about this now.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
I pick up the remote and turn the television off.
Ozzie’s hand freezes in the middle of stroking my arm.
I wait for him to make the next move.
“You turned off the show.”
“Yes, I did.” My heart is going wild.
“Does that mean you’re ready for bed?”
Easy, May, easy. You can do this. “Not exactly.”
He lets out a long breath of air. For a second, I think he’s angry. But then he speaks.
“Stand up, May.”
“Stand up?” I’m confused.
“Yes, stand up. Here in front of me.” He leans back harder into the cushions and moves his butt forward a little, sinking down into the couch.
I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I stand anyway.
“Face me.”
I turn around.
He takes my left hand and pulls me to the left until I’m standing between his knees.
“Take your shirt off.”
I swallow with difficulty. We’re totally going to do this. We’re going to have sex right now. In this room. On this couch. Holy shit.
I reach up with trembling fingers and undo my remaining buttons. It’s all I have strength for, though. When I’m done, my hands fall to my sides. I’m chickening out and I’m not even naked yet. I hate myself! My head drops to my chest.
Ozzie sits up and pulls on my sleeve, making my blouse fall over to one side. “Take this off,” he says in a calm voice. The fact that he’s not sounding angry or scary is freaking me out. It’s like he’s my boss again, doing some sort of training exercise. “Take off your shirt, May. Don’t make me say it again.”
A shiver moves down my spine and right into the spot between my legs, ka-zow!
I do what he says because I’m not an idiot.
“Good girl,” he says, his voice low, almost dangerous sounding.
I’m there in my matching bra and panties, a set I splurged for last year when the wedding bookings were plenty. I’m so glad I put them on today. Did I know I was going to be stripping in front of Ozzie? Maybe. I guess I’d hoped so. God, I’m so easy.
“Take off your bra.” He’s leaning back on the couch again, his eyes running up and down my body. The television is back on again, but the sound is off. Light flickers behind me. I hope it’s making me look mysterious and sexy and not fat.
I lower the straps from my shoulders first, thrilled to see his bulge move in his boxers. He reaches over and squeezes it as his pelvis moves up. That sends a shock running through my body. I never thought a guy touching himself would turn me on, but I was wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong-wrong-wrong.