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“You. In.”
She pointed to the room behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder.
“In there?” I smirked again, but her
cheeks didn’t get any redder, to my astonishment. “Is now really the time?”
She pushed against my naked chest,
her steely eyes fixed on my face the whole time, then slammed the door behind
us with her foot.
“If you wanted some private time
together, you just had to say so.” I joked, leaning back against the chair that
was positioned in front of the mirror in my dressing room.
“You think this is funny?” Kate
asked, her head tilted to the side.
“Actually … yeah.” I nodded and
smiled again, not unkindly.
Kate looked down, and for one
God-awful moment I thought she was going to cry.
Then, she did something better than
crying. Holy mother of crap sticks, was this better than crying.
She raised her hands to the top of
her black button-up shirt—and she undid the top button. Creamy, white skin is
exposed, defined collarbones, teasing my eyes down to—
She undid another button. Holy fuck,
what was Kate doing? Her cleavage heaved in front of me, and I got a hint, just
a hint of her black lacy bra.
“It cannot be a coincidence that one
man is shirtless in front of me six times in two weeks.”
I grinned. She’d counted.
That
totally means she’s into it.
Then she did something that
completely surprised me. Hell, it shocked the living daylight out of me. In one
fluid movement, she grabbed the sides of her shirt and pulled, popping open her
entire top and then shrugging it over her shoulders so she stood there in the
world’s hottest black, lacy bra, skin-tight black denim jeans and these
shoes—how the hell did I not notice them before?—that were red, high, and sexy
as sin.
I swallowed. “So … this is a revenge
…” Swallow, “… strip?”
“This is me, trying to do something
to get you to pay attention and listen when I ask you to do something.” Kate’s
voice was honey as it melted into me.
I raised my hand to the back of my
neck and rubbed at the muscles there that had suddenly become tight with
tension. “Oh, I’m paying attention, all right.” I widened my eyes. There was
absolutely no doubt about that right now.
“Get back stage, Lee. Seriously.
This is your last warning.”
I swallowed again, and felt the
clamminess of perspiration beading my brow. Was it hot in here? It sure felt hot.
She stepped close to me, till her
chest was almost touching my chest. Shit, she smelt like soap and hairspray and
… apples. Delicious.
“I …” My gaze flicked to her lips,
and I wondered if it would really be that bad if I kissed her. After all, that
wouldn’t be promising her marriage, and maybe she’d be up for a casual thing.
And her lips—they were so red, and plump, and—oh God, she just licked them with
that sweet-as-hell little tongue, and—
The palm of her hand made contact
with my face before I even registered her arm moving. Five elegant fingers
stung my cheek and I jerked backward, clutching my face in pain. “What the
hell?”
Kate walked over to where her shirt
lay on the floor and picked it up, casually shrugging it on. She had the
biggest shit-eating grin on her face, and I couldn’t help but give a little
smile myself. I’d not seen her look so animated since she first boarded the
bus.
“I told you it was your final
warning,” she said, doing up her buttons, then turned to the door, wrenching it
open and making a sweeping gesture with her arm, allowing me passage through.
“Now, Mr Collins, if you please.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled, walking past
her and out into the corridor. I passed Xander’s door, and a thought flashed
through my mind. What if she stripped for all the guys to get them on stage? I
couldn’t have her just—
“Lee?” The voice halted me in my
tracks. I spun to face her.
She threw my black shirt at me. “Put
some clothes on.”
