“It does not.” In a major huff, she crosses her arms over her chest.
I continue to run my thumb over the wet fabric in slow circles, the scent of her arousal filling my nose and rushing to my painfully hard cock. Abby watches my movements in wide-eyed horror.
Excellent. My suspicions about her are proving right the farther we get into the night.
“Another time,” I tuck the panties into my pocket for safekeeping before crooking a finger under her chin and forcing her to meet my eyes, “I’ll put them on the table so even the waiter can see what kind of girl you’re hiding under that prim exterior.”
Cheeks flushing ten shades of red, she jerks away. “I’m not hiding.”
I disagree. I’d say she’s hiding quite a lot and it’s definitely time for it to end. My job is to help her accomplish the task she’s set out for herself.
I slide my arm around her shoulders and toy with her hair. “Aren’t you?”
“No.” She picks up her napkin and twists it in her lap.
Before I can comment, the waiter delivers salads I don’t want. When we are once again alone, I return to the subject at hand. “Is your dress new?”
She rolls her eyes, that smartass nature of hers peeking through her discomfort. “Of course, you know this isn’t my standard attire.”
I contemplate the dress, assessing her under the strictness of scrutiny. Pleased when she squirms under my watchful gaze. It’s amazing on her. But that isn’t the point as far as I’m concerned. I want to know how it makes her feel. Most women fiddle with a dress that short, tight and revealing, even when they know it looks good—but not Abby. She doesn’t fidget or fuss with the hem, or make any adjustments. Almost like she put the dress on and decided to tolerate it by forgetting its existence. “Do you like it?”
She looks down at her cleavage before shrugging. “It’s fine.”
I’m not letting her off the hook that easy. I twine a lock of hair around my finger and let the silky strands slip through before falling to rest on her shoulders. “That’s not really an answer.”
“Why does it matter?” She picks up her fork but makes no move to eat her salad.
She’s avoiding the question, so it stands to reason there’s something lurking there. I could be gentle, but that doesn’t seem to have an effect on her, so I say simply, “Because I say it does.”
She glares at me, annoyance tightening the curve of her lips.
I raise a brow and wait.
Finally, she sighs. “I’m not sure how I feel, awkward, I guess. I put it on and refused to think about it again. It’s just clothes and it covers all the vital parts.”
Another confirmation. My time as her neighbor is paying off because I’ve interacted with her enough to understand at least a little of how she views herself. Abby is a functional, practical person, but she’s also hiding from something. If she wasn’t, there wouldn’t be such a disparity between her inner and outer life.
I run a finger along the curve between her neck and shoulder. “You look very fuckable. Every man in the room has his eyes on you.”
“You don’t have to say that.” With her big brown eyes, she glances up at me and gives me a sweet, tentative little smile. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m a sure thing.”
I can’t help but laugh. She’s so adorable and funny. That dry, self-effacing wit is as charming as ever, but it doesn’t sit well with me that she thinks so little of herself.
I decide it’s time to start correcting that. “I think it’s time for another experiment.”
The smile dies on her lips and her expression turns wary. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“It will be easy, I promise.” I give her a slow once-over, deciding my course of action, before nodding. “I want you to get up and go to the bathroom again, but this time you are to pay attention to the men in the room.”
She shakes her head. “Why on earth would I do that?”
“I want you to see what I did, that’s why.”
She shakes her head. “First, you’re crazy, I can assure you there’s nothing to see. And, second, I don’t need validation from men.”
She has a point, and I don’t shy away from it. “Of course you don’t. But you seem to think I’m placating you, or being nice, and proof to the contrary seems in order.”
Her brow furrows.