"Could you turn down the lights a little?" she asked. He whipped his head in her direction and she offered a small smile. "To set the ambiance in case Theodore shows up."
He stood, flipped the light switch, and the room turning a deep shade of indigo, the last bit of sun long gone. Connor sat down, looking more determined than ever.
Ah, sweet progress.
She curled up on the couch, struggling to contain her smile. The movie was actually good. A great drama, with action and some steamy love scenes. She wasn't brave enough to stare pointedly at Connor during the intimate moments, but she did peek out the corner of her eye. His jaw looked pretty tight, and there was a bead of sweat on his upper lip. She shifted a little on the couch, and crossed her legs at the ankle.
When a knock sounded at the door, they both jumped. Connor shut off the TV quickly and room went dark.
Michelle looked at the clock. Ten thirty? Already? Gee, time flew when you were watching porn, um, a movie.
"That's Theodore, isn't it?"
"Definitely," Connor answered.
It was show time.
Michelle looked at Connor, shirt untucked, chest untouched, and she glanced down at her own still-ironed look. Even the couch, with all its comfortableness, couldn't get rid of the starch.
"Great. We don't look like we've been doing anything."
Connor looked at her with a deadpan stare. "Usually women just get this look about them. Some sort of natural response."
She wanted to laugh at him, but darn it, she needed to think. This was important to get right. "No, Connor, remember this is supposed to be a heated affair. We need to look like you can't stand one minute without touching me. Remember," she stressed the words, "Theodore needs to think he doesn't have a chance."
The doorbell rang, and Connor lowered his voice to a furious whisper. "This was your idea. What are we supposed to do? Get a little down and dirty on the carpet while magically opening the door so Theodore walks in?"
She looked at the carpet and got a nice visual. She decided right then and there that someday, someday indeed, she would get down and dirty on the carpet with him.
The knock on the door lasted longer this time.
"Hang on a second. I'm coming," Connor shouted, still standing several feet away from her, looking completely untouched. Michelle took a step toward him. "Look, this is supposed to be a real date. What would Theodore expect to find?" She wanted to know exactly what was expected when it came to a sultry and torrid affair because she hadn't the slightest idea.
His smile was slow, but provocative. "Sweetheart, if this was a real date, you'd be lucky to have your clothes on."
She almost drowned in the absolute hedonistic image he provoked.
She looked down at her clothes. They were definitely too tidy. Something had to be done about that. Quickly. She shook her head free of her lustful thoughts. Not now.
"Okay. Here, let me do something with my shirt. I should undo a few buttons or something."
She reached frantically for her buttons, Theodore now knocking insistently and firmly at the door. Well, he could just wait. Very quickly, she undid the tiny buttons, popping them free.
She pulled the stiff cotton material free of her pants and made the rather huge mistake of looking at Connor. Her fingers froze. His eyes were leveled on the brown, lacy bra she wore underneath her shirt. Okay, her chest was somewhat small, but she liked to think of herself as pert.
The way Connor was looking right now, as if she were a delectable treat he wanted to devour, she was beginning to like small and pert, but she really did need to get a move on. Unfortunately, none of her muscles seemed to work.
Connor finally spoke, his voice a little hoarse. "You need to button up. Theodore definitely doesn't need to see you like this."
She almost reminded him that was exactly why she'd unbuttoned them, but decided now was not the time to debate it. She fumbled a little. The buttonholes had mysteriously shrunk a few sizes too small, and her hands had grown much clumsier.
With a low curse, he brushed her hands aside and began the task himself.
"Connor, don't button them up right. I'm supposed to look ravished."
His hands froze. Right on top of her breasts.
He muttered something under his breath, but she couldn't make it out. "Connor, focus. Connor, your brother is on the other side of your front door." His hand brushed against her skin. She jumped. "Connor, you need to hurry up."
The knock on the door lasted longer this time.
Connor looked up, eyes dark with lust. "Don't speak to me right now. I just need to get these damn buttons fastened. How did you manage to find a shirt with so many buttons? I told you I wouldn't be able to handle priesthood well."
"How long has it been?" she asked, trying to distract both of them.
She bit her lip to hold back her groan.
He gritted his teeth, and his finger brushed against her nipple.
She emitted a choked gasp.
Her nipples grew even perkier, clearly visible under the brown satin. Connor's breathing turned shallow.
Not knowing what else to do, she apologized. "I'm sorry."
He stopped fumbling with the buttons and focused on her face. A deep blush appeared under his skin, very noticeable underneath the shadow of whiskers clinging to his jaw. Her fingers lifted, craving the touch.
"You haven't done anything. I should be the one apologizing."
She started to explain that she was apologizing for her nipples and his breathing problem, but realized this was not what a sexy, sultry seductress would do. Yet, there had to be something she could do. Her breasts were in his hands; there was definitely something she could do.
And so, she kissed him.