He took the zipper with precision, not so much as brushing the fabric, and drew it down, eyes riveted on my face.
He's proving something to me, I realized.He won't touch me since I'm drunk.
When the zipper was at the bottom, I lifted my hips and he tugged the stretchy black fabric down, gripping near my legs where there was enough loose cotton to allow him to not touch me. The skirt slipped over my hips and he drew it off my feet, folded it and set on the floor by my boots. He stood up, facing away from me.
Oh no you don't,I thought. He wasn't going to get away with not so much as looking at me.
"Jeff?"
"Hmmm?" He stopped and grunted the question without turning around.
"I'm thirsty." And I was, all of a sudden. Positively parched.
His shoulders slumped and he shook his head. He filled a glass with water and brought it to me, keeping his eyes downcast until he reached the couch. His eyes met mine, flicked away, and then back.
When I'd gotten dressed, all I could find clean was a slinky purple thong, so that's what I was wearing. It barely covered me, even in front. I certainly hadn't had Jeff in mind when I'd put it on, but now I was grateful.
His eyes moved down to my low-cut T-shirt, which had hiked up to bunch just beneath my breasts, and down to my hips and legs.
"Goddamn, Anna. You're not making this easy on me."
"I'm not making what easy?" I asked.
"Being a gentleman."
"What if I don't want you to be a gentleman?"
Jeff closed his eyes and let out a long breath. "You're drunk."
"A little bit."
I kept my eyes on his and let him look. He fought it still, trying to focus on my eyes, but at last he gave in and let his gaze rove down my body, lingering on the miniscule patch of purple silk between the narrow V of my thighs. He turned away, at last.
"Such a gentleman," I said, taking the glass from him and sitting up to drink it.
"I'm trying," he said, "but you're not making it easy. "
"Sorry," I said, but my tone of voice implied otherwise.
Jeff smirked. "No you're not. You're just being difficult. Teasing me."
I faked a hurt look. "Me? A tease? Never." I smiled sweetly, all innocence. "I always follow through."
Jeff's eyes narrowed, and his hands twitched at his sides, as if trying to keep them from touching me.
"If you're playing a game with me, Anna, I swear, I'll never talk to you again. I mean it."
"I'm not playing a game. I promise." I finished the glass of water and set it on the coffee table before lying back down on the couch.
I only posed for Jeff a little bit.
He closed his eyes briefly before crouching next to me and drawing the blanket over my hips. His knuckles brushed along my skin from knee to hip bone, an electric spark crackling between us at the contact. I wanted him to run his hand up my leg, but he didn't. He seemed to think about it, though.
"Good night, Anna." He rose and went to his bedroom, closing the door behind him.
* * *
When I woke up, head pounding and stomach roiling, Jeff had a full breakfast spread out, eggs sunny-side up, bacon, toast, orange juice, coffee. I visited the bathroom, then meandered out to the kitchen.
