“Everything!” he calls back.
Everything. I poke my head around the corner. “Define everything.”
He looks up and our eyes meet. My breath catches. I think he’s the most beautiful man I have ever laid eyes on.
“Swimming,” he eventually says.
I frown. “Swimming?”
“Among other things. I thought we could do some sightseeing on my motorbike, and then go for a drive down to the beach this afternoon.”
My eyes widen. “You have a motorbike?”
“I do. Do you like motorbikes.”
“I love motorbikes.”
“Me, too.”
“This sounds fun,” I beam.
“That’s me.” He throws me a cheeky wink. “Mr. Fun.”
I giggle because we both know that’s an appalling lie, he’s Mr. Intense, not Mr. Fun.
“If you say so,” I tease. I walk back inside and do another little jig to myself. This is the best day of my frigging life.
I grab my things and head into the shower, trying to be as quick as I can because I know he’s waiting.
He’s waiting… for me.
Ten minutes later, I come back out into the room in denim shorts and a pale pink T-shirt to find my bed made and my panties laid out. I stare at them, mortified. They’re the ones I stuffed under my pillow when he arrived.
I turn to him. “You made my bed?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His eyes hold mine, dark and dangerous. “I wanted to.”
I swallow the lump in my throat.
“I found these under your pillow.” He picks them up and twirls them around on his finger. “Did you take them off last night when you were alone in bed?”
I open my mouth to say something but no words come out.
He steps forward, closer to me. “Did you touch yourself last night when you got back from our date?”
I frown. I have two options here. One, go along with his notion that I’m a sexy ho…or two, shatter his dreams and tell him I’m a slob who left my panties on the floor. “Did you?” I fire back, unable to push a lie past my lips.
He steps forward again. “I did.”
The air crackles between us.
“And?” I whisper.
“I blew three times.” His dark eyes hold mine. “Seems that you’re quite the aphrodisiac, Miss Olivia Reynolds.”