Make Me Bad - R.S. Grey Page 0,27
goading than it was a moment ago.
“I suppose if you don’t want to take something, you could leave something instead.”
His words are as tantalizing as the meaning behind them. I freeze with my finger resting on the spine of The Divine Comedy. How fitting considering my Virgil is sitting right behind me.
Without turning to him, I ask, “Like what?”
“A token.”
I might be innocent in some ways, but I’m not so naive that I miss his meaning. I have so few things with me, no purse and no phone. I didn’t think I’d need them since I was coming with Colten. I have my mostly empty cup of champagne and the clothes on my back, a hair tie around one wrist. None of those things qualify as a token, though. No, a token is something compelling, a part of yourself. The first thing I think of is my unmentionables, the things I’ve never taken off in the presence of a man before. I cringe considering I can’t even refer to them directly in my own thoughts.
Your lacy panties, Madison. That’s what he wants me to leave behind.
My hand trembles on the book. I yank it away at the same moment I work up the courage to peek over at Ben. My mouth is hidden against my shoulder, but his is stretched into a mocking smile.
“I’m kidding.”
His amusement strikes a nerve inside me. He thinks I’m too chicken to do it.
“Close your eyes.”
His smile drops and mine widens tenfold.
“I said…close your eyes.”
He shakes his head in disbelief and lets his head fall back against the couch. Then he does as he’s told. I have an unobstructed view of his neck pulled taut, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he swallows. It’s slightly unnerving to see a man like him in such a vulnerable position.
“I don’t hear clothes being removed,” he mocks.
I resist the urge to throw a book at him. With his eyes closed, it’d probably hit its target.
I sigh and then glance down at my dress, assessing the hem with fresh eyes. It reaches my knees. I’m going to be fine. No one will notice that I’m sans-panties when I walk back out into the living room. If anything, they’ll be too preoccupied with the fact that I apparently haven’t mastered the use of a cup yet.
“Can I open my eyes now?” he asks as soon as my hands reach up under my dress.
I panic. “No!”
“What are you doing?”
“Taking my panties off!”
He makes an inaudible sound and then throws his arm over his eyes like he needs extra reinforcement to keep himself from looking. Interesting. Just because he doesn’t want me doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be a little curious to see what I have to offer. That thought thrills me even though it shouldn’t. I truly need a boyfriend.
“Hurry up,” he says, rudely.
“Okay! I’m doing it.” My fingers hook on either side of my panties and I slide the lacy material down my thighs. If I’d known I would be leaving them behind, I would have worn one of my oversized cotton pairs, my period panties—the ones I put on when I’ve just about given up on life.
I push the silky material past my thighs and knees then step out of the panties as quickly as possible. I yank the The Divine Comedy off the shelf, stuff them inside, and whip the book closed with a loud clap.
When I glance behind me, Ben’s eyes are on me. Maybe he heard me close the book and knew it was safe to look…or maybe he was watching me the whole time. I’m too scared to ask.
“He’ll never find it,” he points out, standing up to walk over to me. “I don’t think he’s read a single one of these books.”
“You’re right,” I say, gloating. “It’s the perfect crime.”
He laughs and suddenly, there are voices out in the hallway, bits of conversation filtering into the room.
“She said she was just going to the bathroom,” Colten says, his voice angry and accusatory.
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Jake reassures him. “She’s probably just—”
I don’t catch the rest of his sentence because Ben’s hand grabs my arm and yanks me across the room. There’s a niche carved out near the fireplace, mostly hidden from the door. There, Ben pushes me up against the wall and covers my body with his just as the door opens.
I’m holding my breath. My heart pounds against his chest like it would rather be in his body than mine. He still has his hand