There was another pause and then his voice low and sweet, sending a brisk thrill coursing through her veins.
“You won’t disappoint me, Josie. Don’t want you thinking that. Don’t even want it in your head. If you’re there when I get home, naked and waiting for me, I’m not going to be disappointed. I’ve looked forward to it all day. I’ll let you go so you can get ready. See you soon.”
“Bye,” she whispered.
As soon as she ended the call, she surged to her feet, frowning when she saw the scattered supplies all over his living room. She knew his housekeeper was coming in the morning, but she didn’t want to be an added burden. For that matter, all her stuff was in boxes, neatly stacked against the living room wall. She hadn’t bothered unpacking them yet because she’d wanted to work, eager to get more of her paintings to the art gallery.
Hopefully Ash wouldn’t be annoyed at the mess and at the chaos she’d brought into his immaculately kept apartment.
She rushed to the bathroom, wondering if she had time for a quick shower. But she’d taken one this morning. She was clean. Just her hands and her arms had paint splatters and she could clean those off in short order.
Still, she paid careful attention to her appearance. She brushed out her long, blond hair and surveyed her reflection in the mirror. No makeup today, but then she rarely wore more than lip gloss and mascara.
Satisfied that she didn’t look an absolute mess, she went into the bedroom and stripped out of her clothing. She folded the jeans and the shirt, not knowing if she’d dress afterward or if Ash would keep her occupied until bedtime. She’d tackle that particular issue when the time came.
But what now? Did she wait in the bedroom? Should she sit in the living room and wait for him there? She frowned pensively. They hadn’t gone over the particulars, just that he wanted her naked and waiting for him.
He’d been specific in that he didn’t want her to kneel unless he wanted her there because she was sucking his cock. Her cheeks flamed in remembrance of that statement. Michael had liked her to kneel. Liked her subservience. At the time it hadn’t bothered her. It was a part of their relationship, one she’d readily agreed to. Now she felt foolish for offering the jerk her submission.
She walked into the living room, deciding this was where she’d wait for him. He’d liked the idea of coming home and finding her naked and waiting, which told her that he’d probably like to see her as soon as he walked in. If he had to look for her, then she wasn’t waiting for him very well. And she liked the idea of being the first thing he saw when he got off the elevator.
Since she wasn’t going to kneel, she opted for the plush leather couch, but she put one of the throws down so it would be comfortable against her bare skin. And then she pondered over whether she should sit up? Recline? Laughter bubbled from her throat. She was so overthinking this.
She was an artist and visuals appealed to her. She knew all about provocative poses and Ash would appreciate one of those surely. She wanted to wow him the first time he came home to her.
Warmth entered her chest as those words settled over her. Coming home to her. How easily she fell into his life, his apartment, and adopted it as her own. Was she really considering this home now? And that she had a man coming home to her every day?
Not deliberating over whether she was crazy for entertaining such thoughts, she settled onto her side, arranging her hair to hang over her shoulder, partially obscuring her breasts. It wasn’t that she had any inhibitions. But less was often more. Men responded to what they couldn’t see often as much or even more than what they could see.
It was what made her paintings provocative. The hint of flesh. Just a glimpse of the forbidden.