It was twelve seventeen.

I smiled to myself. I’d left my Lelo in the nightstand before going to sleep. This was not because, after that night, I didn’t need some form of relaxation.

It was that I was hoping Ren would be the source of that relaxation, as these days he always was. He’d texted me earlier saying he had a late meet, but was hoping, if it didn’t go too late, that he’d come to my house and spend the night.

It was late, but as ever with Ren and me (and we both knew it), no late was too late.

I threw the covers off, got out of bed and moved out of my bedroom.

I was wearing a sexy sapphire blue nightie with deep edges of black lace.

Everyone now knew Indy’s former secret (a secret that was leaked by Indy herself during a Girls Night Out; it wasn’t me who shared, swear) and that was that she always wore sexy underwear. This was because her grandma bought her some on her sixteenth birthday and told her every woman should have that particular secret. Indy took this to heart and lived it from that day forward.

Unfortunately, seeing as he’s my brother, I also knew that Lee very much appreciated this now-not-so-secret.

As in a lot.

I couldn’t say I very much appreciated knowing this about my brother. I could say it wasn’t much of a surprise. I’d been underwear shopping with Indy, and often. She had good taste. And Lee was all man (of the Ren variety) so it wasn’t a big leap that he’d get off on something like that.

What everyone didn’t know was that because I’d known Indy since I was born (which meant I knew Grandma Ellen since I was born, and Grandma Ellen was like a grandma to me too), she gave me the same life lesson.

I just took it further. I wore sexy underwear, no exceptions, no holds barred. I had never owned a pair of granny panties from age sixteen onward.

And I never would.

I also never slept in anything unsexy unless I didn’t sleep in anything (and that was the sexiest of all).

I’d learned that Ren was turned on not only by the tactile but also the visual. He liked watching me go down on him. He liked watching me ride him. He liked watching my face as he rode me. He also liked my nighties. The look and feel.

And I knew he’d learned if he showed late at my place he was in for a treat, because over the last couple of months I’d given him a lingerie cornucopia of delights that he showed his appreciation for in a variety of righteous ways.

And tonight’s nightie was actually new. I bought it just for him.

Though I’d never tell him that.

I checked the peephole just to be certain and saw Ren again gazing down the hall. Since there was nothing there but carpeted hall and doors, I wondered what fascinated him about that.

Then wondering got in the way of opening the door and getting to Ren so I quit doing that, and I unlocked and opened the door.

He heard the locks so he was looking at me when I did.

I was lamenting the fact that when we had the chance to hook up, he usually had time to get home and change. That meant I didn’t get him in suits very often. Like now, he was wearing a lightweight white shirt, sleeves rolled up, and faded jeans.

It wasn’t a suit I could peel off him, but those everyday items of apparel looked better on him than any other man could pull off, so I wasn’t quibbling.

I tipped my head back, smiled at him, leaned in and fisted a hand in his shirt. Then I pulled him in my apartment.

He kicked the door closed as I moved into him, my hand sliding up, my mouth aiming for his.

But he surprised me by putting a hand to my waist and holding on there even as he set me slightly back. He twisted and flipped the light switch.

I blinked at the sudden brightness and caught his eyes.

Then I smiled.

Yeah. Ren was visual. Whatever he had planned, he wanted to watch. And to be able to watch, he had to see.

It was always good, but I was thinking tonight was going to be better.

I leaned in and got up on my toes.

When my mouth was almost on his, Ren’s head moved back an inch and his other hand curled firm at the side of my neck, holding me warm but steadily away from him.

What the fuck?

“Zano—”

“That night,” he said, his eyes looking into mine in a weird way that felt intense and probing. “What were you doin’ at Club?”

My head gave a little confused shake and I asked, “What?”

“That night I apologized,” he gave me more info and I, unusually belatedly, sensed the danger and my body stiffened. His hand at my waist wrapped around it to hold me to him as his fingers at my neck dug in as he kept talking. “What were you doin’ at Club?”

“Why are you asking this?” I queried.

“Why aren’t you answering?” he returned.

My brows drew together. “Because it’s none of your business.”

He ignored that and tried a different tactic.

“Were you with a man?”

“No.”

“A friend?”

“No, Zano,” I snapped. “Why does it matter?”

“’Cause you weren’t with anybody. You stayed a few minutes after I left you, took off to the bathrooms and never came back. I know. I watched for you.”

He watched for me.

Nice.

“But you disappeared,” he finished.

“So?”