Page 10 of The Man I Hate

“For instance, would I have to guess the specific color, or could it be orange instead of tangerine, mango, or pumpkin?”

I laughed. “If you get the color right, it’ll be good enough.”

He crossed his arms and looked me over. His hazel eyes glistened mischievously. Feeling as if he’d hypnotized me, I stared blankly into the abyss of his green and brown speckled orbs.

“Take off your green panties and put them in your purse,” he said.

I blinked. “Huh?”

“Green,” he said. “Your panties. They’re green.”

“How did…” I stared in disbelief. “I feel like you sucked that information out of my soul.”

“Am I right, or am I wrong?” he asked.

I forced a sigh. “You’re right.”

He leaned against the back of his seat and playfully wagged the tip of his index finger at me. “Get busy.”

I wasn’t opposed to taking my panties off in the restaurant. Not by any means. In fact, if it was going to get me one step closer to having sex, I’d likely strip naked if he asked me to. I reached under the table and hiked my dress to mid-thigh. As if it were a common occurrence for me to remove my undergarments while eating breakfast, I pushed my panties to my knees.

I glanced nervously around the restaurant. The small diner was filled with people, all of which were obviously more concerned with eating their breakfast than watching me undress. Pleased that I’d worn a presentable pair of underwear, I was brimming with nervous excitement.

Without further hesitation, I slid the panties along my calves and past the heels of my shoes.

In a rather theatrical display, I flopped my purse onto the table and propped it open. Then, I lifted the lace undergarments above the bag and paused. Contrary to what he may have thought, I had no intention of dropping them in my purse. I was going let him keep them for a souvenir, hoping they’d provide him the inspiration to act on whatever urge prompted him to have me remove them.

The green fabric dangled from between my thumb and forefinger. A few seconds ticked off the clock.

His eyes twinkled with satisfaction.

I tossed them at him.

With the speed of a bolt of lightning, he plucked them from the air before they landed against his suit. Wearing a slight smirk, he reached inside his jacket and tucked them in his pocket.

“How do you feel?” He nodded toward my lap. “Right now?”

I writhed in my seat. My pussy was soaked. Braxton, the other hand, seemed unaffected. Maybe when he wasn’t saving women from vicious thugs, he was torturing them with his handsome looks and playing games that required them to relinquish their underwear.

I didn’t know what he expected me to say.

“Liberated,” I said.

My response seemed to amuse him. He almost grinned to prove it.

Almost.

He raised his chin slightly. “What else?”

“You just asked me to take off my panties in a public restaurant and I did it,” I said. “I’m sure you’re aware that you’re an extremely attractive man. What do you expect me to say?”

He gave me a quick once over. “Do you feel better?”

Obviously, he wasn’t getting my point. I rolled my eyes. “I’m not bothered by the idiot who tried to take my car. To be honest, I wasn’t even thinking about him.”

“I didn’t say you were,” he replied. “I asked if you felt better.”

I fidgeted in my seat. “Better? About what?”