Page 82 of Bang

With a hard swallow, I moved both hands to my waist and gave the fabric a slow push downward, sliding the waistband first past my hips and then past the intersection of my thighs.

As I did this, I kept my gaze trained on the guy watching me, wondering if this was what he had in mind.

From the look in his eyes, it was exactly what he'd wanted. And hewasn'tdisappointed.

But when I started to bend my knees to push the fabric lower, he said, "Keep your legs straight." He gave me a long, lingering look. "I want to see you bend over."

I hesitated. "So, do you want me turn around, or—"

"No. I want you facing me." He smiled like he knew exactly what he was doing. "And as far as your ass, trust me. I'll be getting a good long look before the night's over."

"Oh, really?"

He gave a slow nod. "Now go ahead. I'm waiting."

Slowly, I did as he asked, feeling nearly obscene as I bent over and pushed my pajama pants down until the thick fabric was pooled over my slippers. I tried to watch him as I did this, but at the very end, the angle of my head made it pretty much impossible.

Still, when I straightened, I got a nice long look at Mason, watching me like I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. With a slow smile, he said, "You're perfection. You know that?"

No. I didn't, not in the big scheme of things.

After all, Iknewthe kind of women Mason had been linked with in the past.Theywere perfection, at least in every photoI'dseen.

But me? I was just a normal girl.

And yet, I was feeling sexier than I ever had in my whole life as Mason's gaze raked the length of me, as if Iweretruly perfect.

In a quiet voice, he said, "Now the shirt. Nice and slow, remember?"

Oh, I remembered.And I was liking this far more than I might've anticipated.

I was wearing a thin tank top with no bra. With trembling hands, I reached for the lower hem and slowly started lifting it. So far, Mason and I had only shared a single kiss. And yet, I was already warm and slick with excitement.

It was totally crazy, but somehow this felt more intimate than the usual routine of groping under the covers in a traditional bed. And there was something in Mason's expression that made me feel like we were sharing a lot more than an impromptu peep show.

Taking my sweet time, I continued lifting the hem of my shirt, first up over my navel, and then up over my lower ribs. I paused for a long moment with only the underside of my breasts exposed and gave Mason a knowing smile of my own. "Should I keep going?"

"You'd better."

As our gazes held, I was very conscious of the cotton fabric clinging to my nipples. By now, they were so hard, they literally ached.

And that wasn't my only ache. Deep in my core, I was aching for Mason, wanting to be filled with his hardness until that achy feeling went away.

Or maybe, judging from the size of the erection I'd felt pressing against my hip, I'd be aching in a whole new way, a better way.

I wanted him.

Bad.

As I lifted my shirt and exposed my breasts, I felt no awkwardness, only lust.

It made no sense. I wasn't like this.

And yet, here I was standing there in Mason's pantry, with my pants down and my shirt up.If it weren't for my panties, I might as well be naked.

Iwantedto be naked. With trembling hands, I yanked the shirt over my head and tossed it aside.

Mason smiled. "Now the panties."