She’d gone to all this trouble, so I should give her a good show, right?
Suddenly I had an idea, and it made me want to laugh so hard I had to back out of the room. In the hallway, I composed myself and then re-entered the room, making more noise this time. A hiccup and little thump against the closet door told me I was right about her location.
Suppressing the urge to just throw open the door and expose her drunk, snooping ass, I walked right by her into the bathroom, unzipped my pants, and drained the lizard for her listening pleasure. I grinned as I imagined the horrified look on her face.
Then I flushed, washed my hands, and started the next act.
“So. How about a hot shower, gorgeous?” I said loudly.
She hiccupped again. Then I heard some rustling around in there, and I was nervous she was going to expose herself to me before I had a chance to expose myself to her—and I mean full exposure. I wasn’t shy in the least.
I whipped off my Henley and spoke again. “Yeah, I think getting hot, naked, and wet right now sounds like a good plan for a cold afternoon.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw the top of her head start to poke out of the closet, and I tossed my shirt her way.
She came out even farther.
“Fuck, this is gonna feel good,” I said. Then I pulled off my T-shirt and flung it in her direction, delighted when it appeared to hit her in the face.
She darted backward into the closet like a mouse.
I smiled. Come on out and play, little mouse.
And she did—just in time to see me preening and posing in the mirror, flexing my muscles, stretching my limbs. I kissed each bicep just for show before sliding a hand down the front of my pants. My dick wasn’t hard, and I didn’t necessarily want it to get that way—yet—so instead of touching myself, I moved behind the bathroom door to get ready for the grand finale, wondering if she’d use the opportunity to escape. Betting she wouldn’t.
I pulled off my jeans and tossed them out. Next, I yanked off my socks, but I left those on the bathroom floor. Finally, I took off my underwear and flung them out, dying to know if she was still there.
I covered my junk with both hands and kicked the door all the way open.
There she was. On her hands and knees—I knew I could get her there—mouth open, eyes wide.
She gasped.
“So,” I said, barely able to contain my delight. “Now what?”
Her eyes raked over me from head to toe. She licked her lips. “Umf,” she said.
“Use your words, sweet pea. What are you doing in my bedroom?”
She scrambled to her feet, which were bare. Her toenails were painted candy apple red, which was also the color of her cheeks. She wore black yoga pants that clung to her scrumptious legs and a long-sleeved, charcoal gray sweatshirt that hung off one bare shoulder and said NAMAST’AY IN BED on the front.
“Uh, sorry,” she mumbled, fiddling with her braid. “I was looking—I thought I heard—nothing.” She dropped her hands and exhaled. “Forget it. I’ll leave.” She backed up a couple steps, but I saw the way she couldn’t take her eyes off my hands.
“Why are you leaving? Too chicken to stay?”
Her head snapped up, and she gave me a surprised look. “Chicken?”
“Well, yeah. You came down here to see something, didn’t you?”
Her mouth fell open. Fuck, those lips. That chin. I wanted to do such bad things to her pretty face… My dick started to swell behind my hands.
“See something?” she repeated.
“Yes. Isn’t that why you were spying on me from my closet?”
She puffed out her chest in outrage. “I wasn’t trying to spy on you!”
“Oh no?”