Page 192 of Mario

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Me in that green lace.

Him looking at me.

His hands taking their time.

Or no time at all.

“You can say no,” he says. "To it all."

I look at him.

His voice is low now.

Serious beneath the heat.

That somehow makes it worse.

Better.

More dangerous.

“I know,” I say hoarsely.

Can I, though?

Can I really say no?

I reach for the bra.

His fingers brush mine as he hands it over, and the contact sends a shiver up my arm.

“There is a bathroom through there,” he says, nodding toward another door.

My fingers curl around the lace.

I look at the green set in my hands, then at the other boxes still sitting open, then at the man watching me like the rest of the world has stopped mattering.

“This is insane,” I whisper.

“Yes.”

“You agree too easily.”

“Only when you are right.”

I let out a shaky laugh.

Then I take the matching panties from the box and go into the bathroom before I can overthink this into paralysis.

The bathroom is nearly as unreasonable as the closet.

Marble. Glass shower. Soft towels stacked with military precision. Lighting over the mirror that is incredibly flattering, even with my current pallor.

I set the lingerie carefully on the counter and look at myself in the mirror.

My cheeks are flushed.

My eyes are bright.

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