Once we’re in the room, I don’t waste any time noticing how much nicer it is than the one at the Nite’s Inn, I only notice her, only pay attention to her. To the high spots of color in her cheeks and the pulse thudding in her throat.
"I need to see you," I say, shrugging off my leather jacket and pulling off my T-shirt. "Let me see you, kitten."
Her eyes flare at the sight of my naked chest and torso, and then, unexpectedly, she seems to falter, to grow shy.
"I, um…" she moves her purse from her shoulder and opens it up. "I need to get dressed first."
My brow wrinkles. "Dressed? That’s moving in the wrong direction, sweetheart." Then I have a thought. "Is this like a coy way of saying you need to go brush your teeth or something?"
She swallows and shakes her head. "I need to change," she elaborates.
"Change into what?"