But he’d never heard of a guy who couldn’t have sex because he was trapped in his clothing. He pulled on the pajama bottoms. The pants had no button or zippered fly. Only a folded-over slit in the front, and he had to maneuver himself to keep from poking through the fabric.
He stopped and leaned his head and shoulders against the door, feeling the blood pounding in his veins. Particularly in the lower part of his body.
He thought about what she’d see when they met again. His arms were good—nicely muscled. And his shoulders were broad. Did Amanda like a guy with hair on his chest? Some women didn’t. He hoped she didn’t mind a nice dark thicket.
Well, it was too late to think about that now. He wasn’t going to shave it.
When he heard the lock on the bathroom door click again, he closed his eyes for a moment, then stepped into the hall.
The light was dim, but the sight of Amanda in that robe took his breath away. She’d brushed out her hair into a golden halo around her head. She’d put on a little makeup. Not much, just a little eye shadow and blusher that subtly brought out the natural beauty of her features.
He looked down the length of her body, pausing to admire the tight points of her nipples and the golden triangle of hair he could just make out at the top of her legs.
Her feet were bare, and he felt something inside his chest turn over when he saw the red polish on her nails. She hadn’t been wearing the polish yesterday, because he would have noticed, which meant she’d done that for him. For his pleasure, and he had to press his hands against his thighs to keep from reaching for her.
When he glanced up, he saw she was looking at him with frank appreciation. Maybe chest hair turned her on.
But it wasn’t his upper body that she mentioned.
“Nice pajamas,” she said, and he knew she could clearly see the erection poking out the fabric.
“I’m glad you like them,” he managed to say. Then, “Come see if you like the bedroom.”
He stepped aside to let her pass, then caught his breath as one of her silk-clad arms brushed against his.
Again, he had to clamp down on the impulse to drag her body against his. He wanted to feel the length of her pressed to his heated flesh. But he knew that was the wrong thing to do. He had spent a lot of time setting up his fantasy, and they both needed to see it through. At least, he did. He hoped she could stay with him.
She stepped forward, into the bedroom.
He couldn’t see her face, and when he heard her make a small sound, he found he was fighting to breathe around the lump that suddenly clogged his throat as he waited for her reaction to his evening’s work.