Page 36 of The Bombshell and the Bodyguard
“You’re gonna need to keep applying it over the next several days unless you want to peel down to your skeleton.”
When I got to the base of her back where that enticing pink heart peeked above the edge of the towel, I waved the white flag.
“Okay, I’m all done. You’re gonna want to put some on your, uh… on your… flanks after you pull off that g-string, before you put on your panties.”
Flanks? Really?
At that moment with my hand hovering, trembling, above her perfect ass, I hadn’t been able to say the word. Even saying the word “panties” to her felt dirty.
Walking over to my dresser, I opened my t-shirt drawer and pulled out the softest one I could find. It would be enormous on her, but that was a good thing. She wouldn’t want to wear anything tight for a few days.
When I dropped the shirt on the bed beside her, Jessica opened her eyes.
“Hey,” I said softly. “I can see you’re about ready to pass out. This should be pretty comfortable for you to sleep in. Feel free to keep it as long as you like.”
She gave me a sleepy smile. “Thanks, but I’ll just sleep naked. That’s what I usually do.”
I closed my eyes and let out a long exhale.Fantastic.
Chapter Thirteen
Selkie
Wilder
For the next several days, Jessica took it easy, staying mostly in her room.
Thank God. After that remark about sleeping naked I needed a few days of recovery time myself.
It was so much easier to resist Jessica when I didn’t have toseeher all the time.
But then I started realizing how quiet the house was. It had never bothered me before to spend time alone at home, but now the place seemed… lifeless. Empty.
Lonely.
Oh shit. I miss her.
That wasn’t good. That wasn’t good at all.
Lusting after her was one thing—missing her when I wasn’t with her was another. I had no business forming any kind of emotional attachment to Jessica Bailey.
What was I going to do about this? She was eventually going to come out of that room and start parading around in barely-there swimsuits again. Hell, even if she was wearing a puffy snowsuit I’d find her attractive.
My problem was the real pull I felt to her—had always felt—was to who she wasinside.
The next morning, Jessica came into the kitchen, barefoot and dressed in my t-shirt, which, as predicted, was enormous on her.
The extra fabric flapped around her, and it was the length of a short dress, so there was no reason—no reasonat all—I should be turned on by the site of her in it.
Sometimesshouldjust wasn’t happening. I stepped behind the island to hide my hard-on.
“Sunburn looks better today,” I said. “How do you feel?”
She slid onto a bar stool, propping her cheek in one of her hands and giving me a droll look.
“Like I’ve been to a lobster boil—as the star attraction. Actually, it feels much better today, thanks to you, but I still look ridiculous.”
I bit back a smile. “No you don’t. You look fine.”
