TJ

 

 

Well, fuck me.

She closed the door on me.

I just stand there, stunned at what just happened.

But I have no time to process it because seconds later, the door opens again.

“I’m sorry, that was …”

“Comical,” I fill in for her, hoping it will defuse any tension.

She freezes but then relaxes, and I swear I can spot a smile tugging at her beautiful lips.

“And unusual,” I add.

“That’s me,” she mutters, occasionally glancing at the bouquet in her hand.

“I like it,” I reply.

For a second, all we do is gaze at each other, neither of us knowing how to start this conversation. So I clear my throat and begin. “I apologize for being such an asshole. I should’ve told you.”

She bites her lip but doesn’t respond, so I guess she’s waiting for me to say more.

“I was just so afraid of rejection. I couldn’t do it,” I add. “But I should have. Which is why I’m here. To apologize and explain. I know you probably think I’m a creep, and you’re right, I am. But this creeper is still in love with you.”

She looks down at the floor, but I can still see the side of her lip turning into a half-smile.

I’ll take it. It’s more than I expected.

“I messed up. Badly. I know. Will you forgive me?” I ask, laughing a little. “This is when I would give you the flowers, but since I don’t have them anymore, I’ll just give you a smile.”

“Thanks,” she says. “For the flowers, I mean.” She stares at the massive size of the bouquet. I think I bought like two hundred or more of those tulips. Anything to make it up to her.

“You told me they were your favorite, so I figured I needed to go big or go home.”

“I can see,” she murmurs.

“I would’ve bought more, but the store was out,” I say, rubbing the back of my head.

She sniggers softly and smells them, momentarily lost in thought.

I figure I should tell her the rest too. Now that I’m finally being honest and shit’s already ruined, I might as well take my chances and just go for it. Trust has to start somewhere. I just hope that, after all I’ve done, it’s not too late.

“I, uh … I knew it was you,” I say. “When you applied. I knew you were the girl I bought those panties from.”

Her eyes flash to mine, and she puts the bouquet down to listen to me.

“I didn’t know it before you sold them to me. When you applied, they were already in my possession. If I’d known you were going to apply for a job at Morrows, I would’ve cancelled the order. But you had already sent it out by the time I found out.”

“How did you know it was me?” she asks.

I make a face, cringing at the thought of having to admit my pervy behavior. “I kinda stalked your Facebook profile.”

Her lips part and her brows draw together. “Wait. How did you find my profile? My name was Pantylicious, but I didn’t use that anywhere else.”

“No … but you did use an old email on some panty-selling website, and I used it to track you down.”

She turns her head and blows out a breath.

“I know it was wrong, and I apologize for that too.”

“So you’re not just a panty sniffer but a stalker too,” she says, clutching the doorframe. “Great.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” I shrug. “I didn’t mean to, but it just happens. Shit just flies my way.”

“No, you create it.”

“Semantics,” I muse, raising my brows, which makes her roll her eyes. “But you have to know that I didn’t do it to be weird. I was just … interested.”

“In what?”

“You.”

My honesty has her taken aback, and she licks her lips as the silence returns for a second.

“I liked you, and I couldn’t stop. I wanted to know more even when I knew it was wrong,” I say. “And then I found out you’d applied for a job at Morrows.”

“Is that why you denied me the job?” she asks, cocking her head.

“At first, yes,” I reply, mulling it over. “I was tempted but told myself to say no because… well, I bought your panties, and it would look really, really bad if anyone found out.”

“You know I was so mad at you for declining me and then accepting me later,” she says, folding her arms.

I snort and raise my hand. “Same.”

“What changed?” she asks.

“A certain individual changed my mind … and I’m thankful he did.”

“Someone at work?”

I nod.

“I’m not sure whether I should go and thank him or tell him he’s just as dumb as you are.”

I laugh, and she can’t seem to hold in her laughter either even though she tries to hide it behind a stern frown.

I smirk. “I had that coming.”

 

 

***

 

 

Lesley

 

 

“Yes …” I say, not sure how to act around him. Everything feels so awkward. “But thanks for the flowers.”

“You’re welcome. Oh, I forgot.” He sticks his hand in his jacket and rummages around until he’s found what he was looking for. A tiny box wrapped with a ribbon. “I didn’t wanna overdo it, so I bought a small one.” The smile on his face is infectious as he gives me the box.

When I open it, my jaw practically drops. There are two vanilla macaroons inside.

“Overdoing it,” I say, snorting. “Please.”

He shrugs and says, “It’s a habit. When I like something, I tend to get everything and anything related to it.”

“Like panties …?” I muse, raising a brow.

He cocks his head, his lips pursing. “Among others. It’s just who I am. I hoard stuff and get really obsessive about it.”

“Hmm …” Obsessive is quite an understatement, but I’ll take it.

“Like I’m obsessed with you,” he adds, making my heart pound in my chest.

Fuck. Why does he always have to grab my heart and rip it out like that?

“So let me get this straight … you were obsessed with me, so you bought my panties, and when I came to apply for a job, you also hired me as your intern because you couldn’t let it go?”

“Pretty much, yeah.” He’s just standing there with utter confidence. As if he knows it’s all kinds of wrong but still doesn’t give two shits.

“I like your attitude,” I say with a snarky voice. “But I still don’t get why you wouldn’t just return them before I found out.”

He smirks. “Because I liked them too much. Sue me.” There’s that shrug again.

Guess there’s no way around it. He really is a perv.

“No, wait.” He holds up his hand. “Don’t sue me. That … could get me in real trouble.”

I snicker. “If you bring it like that, I’m actually tempted.”

“Oh, shit,” he says. “Guess I’mma have to beg now. Want me to go down on my knees? Because I’ll do it. I’m normally not this easily persuaded, but for you, I’ll do it.”

I don’t even know what to say, because I’m smirking so damn hard, and because my heart is jumping through hoops. I gotta tell myself not to encourage him even though I want to see him crawl badly. And maybe kiss my feet. Fuck, I’d let him.

But that’d mean admitting I could forgive him. Or, you know, still imagine kissing him.

But fuck, he’s the guy who actually bought my panties and sniffed them. Can I be okay with that? I know everybody has their own needs and some have a fetish, and that’s okay. I mean, I made money off it, for crying out loud. But he didn’t tell me. Not once did he make an effort. Except when it was too late.

“Well …” I sigh, clutching the door handle.

“Wait,” he says, holding up his hand. “Before you make a decision …” He rummages in his other pocket. “These belong to you.” He holds up the three panties. “I don’t want to keep them if it means hurting you.”

I contemplate it for a moment, but then I realize what might have happened to those panties, where they’ve been, and how that would make me feel.

“Uh … no thanks,” I reply. “Keep them.”

“Well, that’s mighty generous of you.” He tucks them back into his pocket. I’m not sure whether I should be amazed or grossed out that he carries them around like that.

“Sorry, this must be really weird for you,” he says.

“Kinda.” I try to hide my cringe.

“I … just love how you smell. I can’t help it. If that makes me a pervert, then so be it.”

“It’s okay. I mean, everybody has his own taste.”

“Oh yeah, like you have a fetish like this,” he jests.

“Who knows? You don’t,” I say with a sassy grin.

He narrows his eyes. “Is that an invitation to come and find out? Because I will … gladly.” The soft groans at the end of his sentence have my senses on high alert and my hormones going crazy.

When he steps forward, I place a finger on his chest and say, “Uh-uh, not so fast.”

“What?” He seems genuinely surprised I stopped him. As if I’m that easy.

“First, you have to promise me …”

“Yes.”

I make a face. “I haven’t even told you what it is yet.”

“I don’t care; I’ll do it.”

I snort. “Shouldn’t have said that.”

“So what is it?” He arrogantly leans against the door post.

“You get rid of all the panties that aren’t mine.”

He almost falls down. “What?”

“You heard me.” I raise a brow. “Or are you going to chicken out on your promise now?”

“That wasn’t …” He clears his throat and growls, “Fine. I will.”

Whoa. I didn’t expect him to actually agree to it. I’m impressed.

“All right, bigshot. You sure you can handle it? Because I’m sure you’ll start to miss them once they’re gone. You’re a hoarder, remember?”

“Oh, I remember.” He takes another step, inching dangerously close to me. “I’m not just a hoarder. I’m a sniffer too …” He takes in a big gulp of air. “And I just happen to have found exactly what I love to smell.” I grin and giggle when he sniffs my hair and whispers into my ear, “You.”

“But will I be enough?”

“More than enough. But I will require a donation … every once in a while.” The left side of his lips quirks up into a smile as he grabs my waist and pulls me close.

“Donation?” I repeat, almost unable to talk because his lips are hovering above my skin, seducing me.

“A contribution to my panty-monogamy,” he murmurs, his lips brushing along mine. “Something to keep me focused …”

“You mean you want me to hand my panties to you?” I reply, lifting my head to look at him.

He shrugs. “That … or I’ll steal them.”

I put my hands on my side. “You promised—”

“I’ll sink my teeth into them and snatch them before licking your pussy …” He groans, and I can’t help but zoom in on him licking his lips. “How’s that sound?”

I can’t do anything but nod and stare … and then nod some more. He closes the door with his foot and grasps my face, taking my mouth as if he owns it. And I don’t even mind.