Page 61 of It's Only Love

“Dean, can I borrow the keys to your house? I just need to pop round,” she asked innocently, coming up behind him which she still hadn’t learned was a mistake. He always looked so good from behind. He turned to face her, confused.

“What for?”

“This is kind of embarrassing, but I think I left my panties there the other morning,” she said, her cheeks flushing. He choked on a breath and pounded himself on the back.

“You think, what?” he croaked.

“My panties. Obviously, they came off and I don’t remember putting them back on.”

“I think I would have noticed them.” He smirked at her in such a roguish way that she nearly combusted on the spot.

“They might have fallen behind some furniture,” she squeaked.

“Okay, well I’ll have a look tonight for them and bring them with me tomorrow,” he shrugged, turning back to the railing.

“But I really need them now!” she burst out, desperation fusing her tone, she forced herself to calm down. “They’re my favorite pair.” He turned back and stared at her like she had lost her mind, and in that moment, she would struggle to disagree with him. “Besides, they’re dirty and need washing so you shouldn’t have to touch them.” He fixed her with another scorching look.

“Darlin’,” he started, and God, her body felt things when he said that. “I’ve had my hands all over you, including the parts of you that these “dirty” panties covered.” She fought a shiver at the memories that tried to fill her mind. “I’m not bothered about touching them, but if you really need them right now, then be my guest.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, handing them to her. She snatched them, sighing with relief, and thanked him.

“And Christy?” he called as she walked away. She turned back to face him, a gleam in his eye and that damn smirk tugging at his lips.

“They’re my favorite pair, too.”

She couldn’t speak, just left as quickly as possible, his dark chuckle following her.

When she got to his house, she unlocked the door and went inside. Once she closed it she leaned against it, her heart pounding. She took in the surroundings, the feel of the house and his scent enveloped her, and she instantly felt herself calm. She knew she couldn’t be long, she was only meant to be looking for fictitious panties, so she headed straight upstairs to his study.

She had to know if it was this house that inspired her. She didn’t want to snoop in the other rooms, she already felt guilty enough that she lied to gain access to his sanctuary, especially now that she knew from Justine that he didn’t bring women here. She wondered what made him bring her here that night? A small flicker of hope lit in her stomach before she crushed it. Gah, I don’t have time for this! She opened the door to his study, went inside and instantly froze.

It was different, his computer had moved and the items on the desk had been shifted to one side, allowing more space on the surface and a better view of the garden below. She went over and studied the surroundings, she could feel the knot in her chest unfurling, the creativity taking over. She spotted that more notepads and pens had been added to the desk. Why would he add more, but move his computer away? Had he done this for her? He found her in here writing, maybe he had. She felt a wave of tenderness consume her, what a wonderful man. Why would he do that for her? She felt tears come to her eyes, the gesture was so sweet, so touching, so…

“Ridiculous,” she muttered, “you’re an idiot, he didn’t do this for you, what’s the matter with you?” she chastised herself. She looked out the window, the birds were back, flinging water over their backs, ruffling their feathers. It started as a slow drip feed of images into her mind, then all at once the ideas flooded her. She dropped down into the leather chair and placed her hands on the desk. Was it a coincidence that the chair was set to the perfect height for her? Yes, stop being silly! She grabbed a pen and a notepad and began jotting down notes and ideas that came to her.

They flooded her, her excitement growing, her nerve endings sizzling. She couldn’t write fast enough, barely finishing one sentence before another zinged into her mind. She gasped when she glanced at the time and realized it had been nearly an hour. She ripped the pages out of the notepad, folded them up and put them in the back pocket of her shorts. She straightened the notepad and pens, trying to hide evidence she was there.

As she left, she wondered what she was going to do when she needed to write again, like tomorrow and the day after? She would think of something else. She locked up, reluctant to leave the house, but keen to get back to Dean. So she could make sure he was okay and hadn’t hurt himself DIYing…that’s all.

When she got back, she found him on the back porch, sanding down the railings, shirtless. His muscles flexing with each forceful stroke, tan body shimmering in the sun from the sheen of sweat coating him. She never really had urges before, until now. That’s what he did, he gave her urges and needs, both of which she had to ignore.

“I’m back,” she called, tearing her eyes away from him. He stood up and turned to face her, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead.

“Did you find them?” he asked, holding out his hand and she dropped the keys into his palm.

“Find what?”

“Your panties?” He gave her a funny look.

Shit, you idiot, try and keep your lies straight! “Oh, yeah I did!”

He looked at her empty hands. “Where are they?”

Very good question, she really hadn’t thought this through. “Uh, I put them on.”

He leaned against the railing, folding his arms across his wide chest and arched a brow at her.

“Over the pair you were already wearing? You’re now wearing two pairs of panties?”

“No, just one pair,” she said, unconvincingly.

“So, you weren’t wearing any panties earlier then?”

“I, uh, guess not.”

He walked towards her, slowly, meaningfully, she swallowed thickly. Busted, he knows I’m lying, I’m dead. When he reached her, he bent down to her ear and she got hit with the scent of him, pine, sweat, and dangerous man. The sensation so heady it took all her willpower not to grab him and drag her tongue across his chest.

“I always knew you were a naughty minx,” he whispered, and her breath caught in her throat, his damn sexy chuckle drifting over her. Then his heat was gone, and she watched him go into the house. She groaned and slumped against the porch, feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. Also fighting the urge to charge in after him and demand he take her to bed and make her come alive again.

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