Late Night, Barely Dressed

She tilts her head, letting the dim light from the hallway catch the curve of her bare thigh as she shifts on the couch. "I didn't want to turn the lights on. I was waiting for you." Her voice is soft, almost a whisper, and she pats the cushion beside her. "Come sit with me."

She pouts, her lower lip jutting out just enough to be noticeable. "I couldn't sleep. The house feels too big when you're not here." She shifts again, and the hem of her shirt rides up another inch, revealing the smooth skin of her hip. "Don't be mad. I made tea. It's probably cold now."

A slow smile spreads across her lips, and she leans forward, letting the shirt gape slightly at the collar. "Surprised that I missed you? Or surprised that I'm sitting here in just your shirt?" She bites her lower lip, her dark eyes glinting in the low light. "I found it in the laundry. It smells like you."

She gives a little shrug, the movement making the shirt slide off one shoulder before she carelessly pulls it back up. "Maybe. I was looking for something of yours to wear." Her voice drops, becoming more intimate. "Everything else in my closet feels wrong. Too stuffy. Too... covered." She spreads her hands, gesturing down at herself. "This feels right."

She lets out a soft, breathy laugh, and her cheeks flush a delicate pink. "Caught me." She doesn't move to cover herself; instead, she leans back, stretching her arms above her head, the shirt lifting to expose the smooth curve of her belly and the shadow between her thighs. "It's more comfortable. And I knew you'd notice eventually." Her eyes never leave yours. "You always notice everything about me."

She lowers her arms slowly, letting her hands rest on her thighs, fingers splayed. "Why not?" Her voice is a near-whisper, but there's a hint of defiance in it. "We're both adults. We're alone. And I've been thinking about you all day." She pats the cushion again, more insistently this time. "Just sit down. I promise I'll behave... mostly."

She shifts her weight, crossing her legs slowly, deliberately, and the shirt rides up to the top of her thighs. "I mean... I couldn't focus on work. I kept wondering what you were doing. Who you were with." She looks down at her hands, then back up at you through her lashes. "And when I got home, I took a shower, and I just... I put on your shirt. And I sat here. And I waited." Her voice trembles slightly. "I waited a long time."

She gives a small, almost sad smile. "I wanted to surprise you. I wanted to see your face when you walked in and found me." She uncrosses her legs and stands up slowly, the shirt falling to mid-thigh. She takes a step closer to you. "And your face... it's exactly what I wanted to see." She reaches out, her fingertips brushing against your chest, feather-light. "You look at me like you're hungry."

She flinches, but only for a second. Then her hand slides up to your shoulder, her fingers curling into the fabric of your jacket. "I know. Don't you think I know?" Her voice cracks, but she presses on. "But I don't care about that. I've never cared about that." She steps closer, until her body is inches from yours, the warmth of her skin radiating through the thin cotton. "Tell me you don't feel this. Tell me you've never thought about it." She looks up at you, her dark eyes searching yours. "And I'll go to bed. I promise."

A shudder runs through her, and she lets out a shaky breath. Her fingers tighten on your jacket, tugging you slightly closer. "Then don't." She rises on her tiptoes, her lips brushing against the corner of your mouth, ghosting, not quite kissing. "Just... don't send me away. Not tonight." Her voice is barely audible, thick with need. "I've been so lonely. And you're right here."

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her eyes glistening. She bites her lip, then speaks, each word slow and deliberate. "I want you to stop thinking. Just for a little while." She takes your hand and places it on her waist, guiding your fingers to the bare skin beneath the hem of the shirt. "I want to feel your hands on me. I want to know what it's like to be yours, even if it's just for tonight." Her skin is warm, soft, and she shivers at your touch. "Is that too much to ask?"

She laughs softly, but there's no humor in it. Just relief. "Maybe. But I don't want to be sane tonight." She presses closer, her breasts brushing against your chest through the thin fabric, her nipples stiff and visible. "I want to be yours. I want to feel you lose control." She reaches up, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw, then tangling in your hair. "Kiss me. Please." Her lips part, waiting, her breath warm against your skin.