That evening, I showered, taking care to scrub my skin until it gleamed. Afterwards, I moisturized with a delicious vanilla-scented lotion and slipped on my silk pajama dress. It was pale purple with spaghetti straps and a low v-neck. I loved it because it was super comfortable to sleep in, but I usually wore a robe over it around the apartment, because I knew it was revealing.
Tonight, though, I didn’t put my robe on. I twisted my hair up in a messy bun that looked effortless, yet sexy, and loosened some strands to frame my face.
I checked myself in my mirror. I looked good, my pajama dress showcasing my cleavage, the outline of my nipples obvious through the thin silk. If Ben seeing me in an unzipped summer dress made him stammer, this would make his brain short-circuit.
My gaze fell on the counter, where my towel and day clothes sat. I looked at my underwear — black cotton with lace detailing around the waistband. I hesitated. Then I decided to leave it.
Silk dress without any underwear. That was how I would get my revenge on Ben.
I walked out of the bathroom with my head held high and shoulders rolled back. Ben was on the couch, and when he saw me, he lips parted. A second later, he coughed and hastily picked up his glass of water off the coffee table.
I walked over like I hadn’t noticed anything and flopped onto to the couch beside him. “Hey! What are you watching?”
His gaze went right to my cleavage before he and fixed his eyes on the TV screen. “Just a documentary,” he mumbled.
“What’s it about?”
His gaze was still on the screen. I poked his arm and he practically jumped ten feet into the air.
I fought back a laugh. “Ben? Did you hear me?” I asked in a sing-song voice.
“Oh, uh, it’s about Mars.”
I glanced at the screen, and sure enough, footage of the red planet filled the screen.
“You like space stuff, huh?” I asked.
He looked embarrassed. “I’m studying aerospace engineering. I, um…I’d like to work at NASA someday.”
I suddenly realized that before today, I didn’t know what his major was. I felt rude for not asking sooner and momentarily forgot about my seduction plan.
“What? No way. That’s so cool.”
He laughed uncertainty. “Thanks. I thought you might think it was lame.”
“Are you kidding? It’d be incredible,” I replied. “You must be super smart.”
He blushed, and honestly, it was adorable. I suddenly wanted to kiss him.
But then I remembered what he’d said.You might be pretty, but not every man is tripping over themselves to fuck you.
I steeled myself. I needed to remember the plan.
I lay down so my head was on the armrest, my legs stretched out, my feet almost, but not quite touching Ben. I could feel my dress riding up, revealing a lot of my thighs, but I didn’t adjust it.
I watched the TV, but in my periphery, I saw Ben glance at my legs. He stared for a second, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. I liked that. I liked the power my body had over him.
We watched the documentary for about five minutes when I stretched my legs out, my feet brushing Ben’s legs.
He stiffened.
“Sorry,” I said. “Is it okay if you move over so I can stretch my legs out?”
“I’m right on the edge of the couch,” he said, sounding apologetic.
I pushed myself up on my elbows and saw he was practically squished up against the armrest.
“Sorry,” I said. “I’m hogging the whole couch.”
