Page 68 of Panty Dropper

Not as beautiful as you.

My chest constricted as I watched her look around. I’d bought this house over a year ago but it had never really felt like mine. Until now. Until I saw Reagan in it.

Her head fell back as she looked at the large wooden beams that spanned the ceiling and the black fan that was in between them. Then she turned her attention to the crown molding and flooring. She bent down and ran her fingers along the seam of the planks. “Are these the original hardwoods?”

I nodded. “I sanded them down and refinished them.”

“I love them. Growing up we had awful shag carpet in the trailer. Then when we moved into Hal’s tenth floor walk-up he had plush berber. My dorms had some sort of indoor/outdoor polyester blend that was supposed to be easy to keep clean, spoiler alert: it wasn’t. And when I moved in with Blaine he insisted on concrete floors with Persian rugs covering every square inch. But I’ve always wanted hardwood so I could do this.” She stood and spun in a circle.

The skirt of her dress floated around her exposing not only her thighs but also another tantalizing glimpse of the white, cotton panties she wore. This time I didn’t stop at a half-salute. I was standing at full attention.

“Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” I hadn’t meant to say it, but I honestly didn’t think she had a clue. “I’m asking as a friend.”

She stilled and looked at me. “What?”

I knew that I was walking into dangerous territory. If I continued down this path, there was a very good chance that it would lead to us doing not-so-friendly things to one another. Which would be great, short term. But what about the long term? I had to keep the end game in mind. I didn’t want her not to trust herself around me. I needed to show her that we could be friends.

“Never mind, just be careful who you spin around.” I moved my forefinger in a circular motion. “When you twirled I got a nice show.”

Her hands flew to the material that was lying flat against her thighs. “Did you see my…”

“Your panties? Yep.”

“They’re the last clean ones that I have,” she bit her lip as a flush rose on her cheeks. “I have to do laundry.”

Friends.I told myself as I pictured her laundering her delicates. We are friends.

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