No Strings Attached

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"I'm not going to lie and say that your ex-husband isn't a worry to me. Nor will I say that I don't want to stay here because he keeps showing up. But that isn't the main reason."

I steel a large breath. "And what is the main reason?"

"That I don't want to go."

My blood warms as I risk a glance at him, feeling utterly vulnerable. He's stripping me of my shield, peeling off the sturdy layers as if they were merely tape. I'm supposed to tell him no, tell him to get a hotel. Tell him that we're supposed to be casual, a random fuck every month or so when we're in town. We're not supposed to want to be together.

But, I don't do any of that.

"I want you to stay."

Damn, did I really just say that aloud? I flush when his smile begins to widen slowly and I immediately look back to my clothing, aware that I'm standing in only a towel, my hair dripping down my back.

"I have no freaking clue why I even have this," I tell him, pulling out a see-through top/dress thing. "I mean, where am I going to wear this?"

I hear him stand up, the fashion expert to the rescue. I hear him chuckle as he reaches in.

"Are you going to dress me?" I tease as he sifts through my hangers, searching for something. He smirks, pulling out a shiny silk slip.

"Educate you. This is a slip."

I roll my eyes. "I know what a slip is... I thought you only wear it for like sleeping?"

He hands it to me and I take both, setting them down onto the bed quizzically. He remains at my closet as I pull open my drawers, intimidated by the very risqué undergarments now laid out in color coordination—white, nude, lilac, pale pink, crimson red and black... lots of black. I pull out a black bra and panties, blushing at the mesh material.

Damn girl, you have changed.

I consider walking back to the bathroom to put them on. I really consider it, but thinking that would just be weird, I remove my towel, setting it down onto my dresser. I pull up the next-to-nothing panties, reaching for the bra next.

Why am I blushing? My eyes flicker up self-consciously into the mirror.

My heart leaps into overdrive when I find Giovanni staring blatantly, his arms crossed over his large chest, his body leaning against the frame of my closet. Oh fuck. I grab the bra, placing it over my chest, laughing nervously.

"You're making me self-conscious."

"There is not much sexier than a woman putting on lingerie," he replies calmly.

I bite my lip to hide my anxious smile. "What else is sexier then?"

Certainly not my red face.

When he leaves his place by the closet, I tense up, my nerves immediately shooting all over my body, alerting me of the dangerous man approaching me, who has a gleam in his eye that assures me I'll be late for work.

He stops behind me. "Well, I'd say you watching me put it on you."

My teeth clamp down on my full lip. I hold up the lacy bra to him, prepared to witness that. His smooth lips curve upward, naturally seductive as he grabs both straps, lifting his arms over my body. A harsh shiver courses through me as he pulls the straps up my arms, his lips caressingly grazing the skin where the straps will settle.

As he clips the back together with ease, his fingers lightly exploring the curve of my spine, I notice my chest heaving up and down with more difficulty, my nipples standing erect in the see-through material.