Page 11 of Rock Me All Night
He stares at me like he's thinking about how easy it would be to pin me to the bed and pull my panties to my knees.
Or maybe I'm projecting.
His lips curl into a smile. "Let me know if you need anything."
"What would I need?"
"To satisfy your curiosity."
Time to put an end to this flirtation. I clear my throat and throw my shoulders back. I can do confidence too. "Listen, Miles. I'm sure you're a great guy in a lot of ways, and I'm sure I'll see you again, what with our mutual best friends."
"True." His voice is calm, totally unfazed.
"But I'd appreciate it if you'd stop flirting with me."
He nods. "If you stop staring at me like you're thinking about what you want to do to me."
I know what I want to do to him. I want to tell him to go screw himself. I fire up an insult and turn to face Miles. But when our eyes connect, my mouth goes sticky.
He chuckles. "That look, right now, you're thinking about fucking me."
"You're mistaken."
"No, I'm not." He stares into my eyes. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. If you're not interested, stop undressing me with your eyes, and I'll stop flirting."
I go to stammer an objection but I've got nothing. Are people really this direct? It's unnerving.
An electric current courses through my body, settling between my legs.
What would his hands feel like farther up my thighs? Under my skirt? Under my panties? My body is begging me to find out.
"I won't stare." I press my palms together, but I'm not at all convincing. I'm staring right now. "I'll work on it."
He pushes himself to his feet. "I really hope you don't."
I'm not interested. I open my mouth to say the words. Nothing. I am interested. I'm unbearably interested.
Shit. I have to say something. "Have a safe ride home."
His lips curl into a cocky smile. "Sweet dreams."
He nods goodbye on his way out the door.
Damn, that was close.
I collapse on the bed. My heart is pounding against my chest. My lungs are totally void of oxygen.
Miles Webb, the gorgeous rock star, singer of the band poised to be the next big thing, wants me. He could have any buxom actress or model he wants, and he wants me. Flat-chested, gawky, wallflower me.
