Page 375 of Rock Me All Night
Of course, I haven’t seen him kiss any of his other friends.
Hell, I haven’t seen him hug anyone.
Only nine minutes to go. I take a cool shower in the hopes of convincing my body it doesn't want Tom. No good. I'm still flushed and wanting. It's all right. We're staying the night in Portland. I'm alone in this room.
I can take care of this need on my own. It's not as if I'll be thinking about him the entire time. Imagining those strong hands on my hips, that cocky mouth on my—
Fuck. Only three minutes to go. I dig through my suitcase. Organization isn't one of my strengths. I toss two pairs of jeans, three tops, and every God damn pair of underwear I own aside before I find a single dress. It's black and short. That's what people wear dancing. More or less.
Only two minutes to decide. I slide into the dress. Matching heels are nowhere to be found. But bright sneakers are very 90s. I slip into my hot pink Keds and line my eyes in purple.
A knock on the door disrupts my already unsteady hand. Shit. That's a mess. "Just a minute." I wipe my eyeliner clean with a wet tissue and answer the door.
Tom looks me over. He copies the tone I used earlier. "That's what you're wearing?"
"Is there something wrong with it?"
"It's 90s night. You need color. Come on." He steps into the room and crouches over the suitcase, pawing through my stuff. He tosses a navy mini skirt and a pink crop top on the bed. "That will be better."
That will certainly be less. The top is minuscule and the skirt is barely long enough to cover my ass. "I don't think so."
"Try it."
I shake my head.
He reaches for the bottom of my dress. "Don't force me to remove your clothes."
My heartbeat picks up.
"You have five seconds. Four." He looks me in the eyes, daring me. "Three."
I step backwards. "Okay. I'll try it. Wait in the bathroom."
"As you wish." He does as he's asked.
The room feels different without his presence. Colder. Less inviting. I change into the skimpy outfit as quickly as possible.
"Okay. You can come back." I press my hands over my stomach as I check my reflection. I can't wear this. It's nothing.
Tom looks me up and down. All that smugness falls of his face. His eyes go wide. His lips part. "That's no good." He pulls my hands to my sides, his fingers brushing my exposed skin.
"Why?"
Tom traces the exposed skin on my side, from the top of my skirt to the bottom of my crop top. "Just change back."
"Why."
His cheeks flush. "It's too sexy."
He's nervous.
"Change. Now." He shifts towards the bathroom, his body brushing against mine.
He's still close. Still warm. I reach for him, get the back pocket of his jeans. I need to say something. That I can be sexy if I want. That it doesn't matter what Tom thinks.
Only it does. I want him to think I'm sexy.
"Tom." My hand brushes against his hip. "I... I want to look sexy. You do. You always look desirable. Why can't I do the same?"
