Midnight Fantasy. Ann Major

you mean.” His gaze slid over her hips, down her legs.

      Her legs! She experienced a full-body blush. Their entire length was exposed to his view. Her silk skirt was shredded. Strips of the gauzy stuff were curling high above her thighs. Why, he could probably see her panties!

      Panties!

      Melody and her little jokes!

      Claire wasn’t wearing pant—

      Frantic fingers tugged modestly at the remnants of white silk to cover panties that simply didn’t exist.

      “Don’t bother.” His eyes had narrowed, the intimacy in his gaze and raw whisper shaming her. “Black lace. Thong. And your voluptuous body to pull it off.”

      She recoiled, her blush reheating.

      “Very becoming,” he said.

      Melody had given her the thong panties as a joke tonight. When she’d tried them on in the ladies’ room, Melody had dared her to wear them.

      “Thong-bikini,” he jeered softly. “A deliberate turn-on.”

      “For a man like you maybe.”

      “Careful! You’re the one in the naughty underwear—Like I said—you were asking for it.”

      “Your jeans are two sizes too tight!”

      His handsome mouth quirked. “A nice girl wouldn’t notice.”

      That was the sort of teasing boast Loverboy was always making…when she got undressed…when she was scrubbing herself between her legs in intimate places with a washcloth beneath foaming bubbles in her bathtub.

      “Shut up, Loverboy!”

      His avid grin was white against his sun-darkened skin. “What did you call me?”