By: Kayti McGee

But now that the subject had come up, it made much more sense that Marc would be planning a bangcation in France if he didn’t have a girlfriend. Also it proved I was into gender stereotypes––I’d have to work on that for sure.

I looked at him then back at the bubble bath. Then back at him.

That’s when the giggles started. “Marc Kirby likes cucumber rose bath bubbles.”

“It smells good,” he said defensively. “I like to smell good.”

“What scent is your shampoo? Pear Breeze?” The giggling spiked up a notch.

“That’s enough.”

“Oh, wait,” I gasped dramatically. “That’s probably the flavor of your wine cooler.”

“Would you cut it out.” Marc’s stern look was sexy as hell; I gotta admit. His students were going to go nuts over that.

Of course that was only fuel to keep going. “‘100% organic,’” I read from the bottle. “This is some quality shit. I’m going to have to borrow this.”

“Okay. Hand it over.” He got up off the bed and headed toward me, his hand outstretched toward the bubble bath.

“I will when I’m––” But then I saw something else that caught my interest.

Marc had put on boxer briefs while I was in the bathroom––blue this time, not quite as alluring as the red, but still a nice fit. Just, right at that moment the fit was more pointed than I’d expected it to be. Oh. Snap.

“Hello,” I said, giving over the bath wash without a fight. Because who cared about that when he was sporting that.

“That’s. That just happens.” He brought the bottle down in front of him to cover his goods. Like that was going to help. “I have no control over it.”

My smile was smug. “Then it really was an issue of bourbon last night. That’s nice to know.”

“What? Wait––did you think I didn’t get it up? Because I definitely did. It was the bourbon’s fault that I passed out.”

“Ohhhh. I certainly read that situation wrong.” This was a much better version of events.

It also boded well for the current situation.

My smile turned from smug to playful as I leaned back against one side of the doorframe and blinked innocently. “So this is morning wood?”

“Or.” He set the bottle on the counter inside the bathroom and turned his focus to me. “The sexy naked woman in my bedroom.”

My breath hitched.

Never mind that I was actually still kind of standing in his bathroom.

“You think I’m sexy?” My voice sounded higher than usual.

“Uh, yeah.” He placed a hand on the frame over me. “Obviously.”

I glanced down at his package and then back up. “Obviously.” Whaaaat. I mean, I knew what I looked like right then. But who was I to argue? If Marc’s vision was that poor, I would be happy to reap the benefits. And what was happening in his undies was certainly a benefit.

He chuckled, a deep rumbling sound that sent goosebumps running down my arms and had my stomach twisting into knots.

“Marc…?” I didn’t really know what I wanted to say. He was intimidating like this, standing so close like he was. I could reach out and touch his chest without having to straighten my arm. I could see the pupils of his eyes darken as he glanced down at my lips, and I started thinking thoughts I shouldn’t be thinking, let alone thinking about speaking.

“Yes, Madison?” He seemed to inch even closer.

“You know, maybe we should try a redo.” The words came out in a rush, before I had time to fully consider what I was saying.

His mouth stretched up into a half smile. “You want to sober-sex?”

Hungover ideas are just as bad as drunk ones, it turns out. Maybe I was actually still drunk. Because suggesting sober-sex was a bad, bad idea.

Wasn’t it?

But the words were out, and his lips were a breath away, and he hadn’t sounded completely turned off at the suggestion. “Yeah. I mean.”

“We’re here,” he suggested.

“Yes. And naked. For the most part.”

“Good point.”

Again I glanced at the tent between us. “There’s that too. The point.”