Page 28 of Hot and Bothered
My mind turned to static.
I only wore yoga pants as pajamas for sleeping in. I didn’t wear them when I was out and in front of people. My parents always said they were too revealing and un-ladylike to wear in public, clinging to a girl’s backside the way they did.
And now I was supposed to wear them as Evan posed me every which way?
The heat inside me cranked up to an almost unbearable degree.
“Okay,” I said, my voice weak and raspy. “I’ll get dressed.”
I only hoped I didn’t spontaneously combust in the meantime.
12
“Ifeel silly,” I told Evan.
“You look fine,” he said. “More than fine. You look badass.”
“I look like I’m searching for something I dropped on the floor while waving a broom around.”
“Exactly,” he said. “It’s the perfect pose. Now don’t move.”
I suppressed a sigh and continued crouching down, one leg extended and the other curled under me while brandishing the broom Evan had found in his storage closet. It was supposed to be a sword, and I was supposed to be fighting a dragon.
My thighs were beginning to cramp up and my arms were tired from holding the “sword” above my head.
“How much longer?” I tried to sound innocently curious, not irritated and impatient.
“I’m just sketching out the lines and then you can move into another position.”
“Another?” I asked.
“I need to try out multiple poses to see which one looks better on the cover.”
I groaned inwardly, already regretting having agreed to this, and we were just on the first of however many contortions I’d be stuck in.
“All right, I’m good for now,” he said, not taking his eyes off the drawing. “You can stretch and rest for a bit.”
I went to stand and toppled over on my numb legs, landing on my behind — my very exposed behind, seeing as how I was in tight-fitting yoga pants. I was also wearing a skin-tight tank top with a low scooped neckline.
It wasn’t exactly a revealing outfit or anything. Not a lot of skin showing. But every one of my curves, the few that I had at least, were quite visibly defined.
“Ow,” I complained with a wince, rubbing at my hip.
“I’m sorry,” Evan said, reaching down a hand to help me up. “I didn’t mean to keep you in that position for so long.”
I took his hand, his warm palm engulfing mine. The hairs on the back of my arm stood up as a shiver went through me. His fingers curled around the back of my hand, his thumb on my pulse point. I wondered if he could feel my increasing heartbeat.
Evan pulled me to my feet. I stumbled back, my legs tingling and not yet ready to hold my full weight. He wrapped an arm around my waist to keep me from collapsing back to the floor. I put a hand on his shoulder to steady myself.
His arm tightened around me. Our chests pressed together. His fingers were spread out along my back. I could feel the press of his fingertips, could feel the heat of his skin through my thin tank top. His deep green eyes bored into mine, dazzling me with their brilliant color. Evan’s usual good-humored expression was gone, replaced by an intensity I’d rarely seen before.
My heartbeat hammered in my chest. I dug my hands into his shirt, my fingers clenching down unconsciously. He pulled me closer. My lips parted. His eyes dropped to my mouth. I tipped my head up, and my lids fluttered shut. I heard him inhale a sharp breath. I stood up on my tiptoes, leaning toward him.
“Alice…” Evan murmured quietly.
“Yes?” I breathed.
“What is this?”
