Watch Me

What is it about the tease that’s so hot?

Bethany Mack has it all – a job she enjoys, a best friend who keeps life interesting, and a man she loves deeply. It’s hardly fair for her to complain about Grant, her husband, working too much when he’s doing it to make their life together, a better one. Right?

So she doesn’t.

Instead, she starts to explore a surprise exhibitionist streak. Bethany figures it’s a harmless way to relieve her growing restlessness, but how will Grant react when he discovers what she’s been doing?

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Excerpt:

For the next week, the heat was unbearable. Grant worked a lot, and although I saw him every morning, and every night, I was starting to feel lonely, even a little lost. And I hated it.
Everything in my life was going according to plan, only I wasn’t enjoying it anymore. I’d partied and enjoyed my twenties, fallen in love just before my thirtieth birthday, and married Grant before I was thirty-one. He got a promotion and we were both working toward a secure future. A baby was the next logical step, Grant and I both agreed we weren’t ready for that step yet. In the meantime, though, I couldn’t help feeling like we were treading water.
We were in a rut, and I was bored.
When I’d headed out for work that morning, it was only to discover that the heat wave had finally killed my sick car.
“I’ll pick up a new radiator hose on my way home from work tonight, and it’ll be running again for you tomorrow,” Grant had promised when I’d called him at work.
It was great to have a husband that knew a thing or five about cars. But, it also meant he’d be busy in the garage that night, and that I was stuck with the bus for transportation. At least it was only for one day.
The smart thing to do would be to talk to Grant about how I felt. Especially now that I’d finally figured it out. We’d always been able to talk about everything and anything in the past, but I didn’t want to be the whiny, needy wife who nagged him when he was working so hard.
I’d fallen in love with Grant on our first date, even before we’d left the pub. His cocky attitude and unshakable confidence, not to mention the sizzling good-night kiss that first night, had been hard to resist. His devilish playfulness had been just what I needed.
We still talked and joked, and cuddled and laughed together. But so often Grant was too tired to do more than watch TV or fall straight into bed at night. We didn’t spend enough time together, and we certainly weren’t making love often enough.
Sex was a growing issue, in my mind. It seems the scientists were right when they said women hit their sexual peak in their thirties, because I was in a state of constant craving. A sundress with no panties had become my regular uniform. Not just because of the summer heat, but because I’d become a masturbating maniac.
While I was waiting for the bus I discovered that if I swayed on my feet slightly, shifting my weight back and forth, the movement caused the skirt of my sundress to swing. And that created the tiniest of breeze’s on my privates. One that alternately made me cooler, and hotter.
A bead of sweat ran down the side of my face. Another followed it, then another turning it into a steady stream. Waiting for the bus in the evening twilight wasn’t any cooler than it had been that morning. Puddles of sweat were forming between my breasts, between my thighs, behind my knees, and where my hair lay heavily on the back of my neck. It had been a humid day in the city and nightfall had just made the air thicker. Everyone I saw looked wilted around the edges.
It was then that I realized I was getting admiring looks from some of the male passers by. My little speech to Ginger about attitude popped into my head, and I felt like I’d been hit by lightning. It applied to me too! I was feeling sexy because of the no panties thing, and it must’ve showed.
The bus pulled up to the curb, and as the doors opened for me, I heard a raucous voice call out “Hey, baby, no need for the bus, I’ll give you a real ride!”
Without looking to see who it was I climbed into the bus and moved to the back with a grin on my face. It didn’t matter who had said it, or that some women might’ve been offended by it. I wasn’t. It felt great to have a man see me as so attractive and sexy that he’d had to call out, stranger or no.
I was the only pickup at that stop so the bus started moving before I reached my seat and an invigorating breeze brushed over my body from the open windows. Dropping down onto the bench seat, I smiled at the rumpled looking businessman across from me before leaning my head back against the window and let the air rushing in from the window sweep over me.
The bus stopped a couple more times, but no one else moved to the back of the bus. So when it pulled onto the freeway, the man in the suit and I were alone, and directly across from each other.
The wind from the window felt amazing so I pulled the top of my dress away from my chest and let the breeze flow over my exposed skin. A shiver ran down my spine and my nipples hardened from the shock. Sensing another kind of heat on my skin, I peeked out from under my eyelashes to see that the man across from me had his eyes glued to my chest, as if in a trance.
Lifting my head away from the window, I glanced down. The material of my dress was once again plastered to my small breasts and my nipples were poking rudely against the fabric, but everything was covered up so I didn’t know what he was fixated on.
When I looked back at him, he was reading the paper once again. Resuming my relaxed pose I watched him from under my eyelashes. He was an okay-looking guy. A bit too young for my taste, even though he wore a suit. Not that it mattered. I was married, but …I wasn’t dead. Every few seconds, he would glance over at me, his eyes running hungrily over my body.
The little devil that had reared its head last week with the roofer tapped me on the shoulder once again. It’s all about attitude, I reminded myself.
I brought my hand up and pushed my hair lazily off my face, letting my fingers trail softly to my neck, then wiped at the beads of sweat there. As if unaware of what I was doing, my hand drifted lower and brushed over my nipple. The stranger’s eyes darted around the bus, looking to see if anyone else was watching. I knew they weren’t, the bus was almost empty and the people who were on it ignored everyone else. That was the way of it on a city bus.
His eyes swung back to me and stayed glued to my hand as I lazily teased my hard nipple. My blood heated at my own naughty behavior, and I opened my eyes to watch him watch me. He was so entranced with my actions that he didn’t even notice me watching him. So I brought my hand up to brush the damp curls back from my temples again, and his eyes locked on to mine.
Letting my hand drop back into my lap, I waited to see what his reaction would be. He just shrugged and smiled sheepishly at me. And I couldn’t help but flirt some more. Reveling in the delicious fire coursing through my veins, I discreetly tugged my skirt up a bit higher on my thighs.
He saw the movement, and his eyes twinkled and his smile grew. Making a production of folding his paper and placing it across his lap, he settled back deeper into his seat as if preparing to watch a show. The thrill of the tease raced through me, and I snuggled my butt deeper into the bench and prepared to give him one.
Letting my fingers run in light circles over my thighs, I spread my knees a bit farther apart and slipped my hands between my thighs. Rubbing them up and down dragged my skirt a bit higher every time my hands came up. His eyes remained glued to my fingers and I brought my skirt to the top of my thighs the next time, allowing him a brief glimpse of the dark curls there before pulling my skirt down again. His shocked eyes jumped to mine and I smiled devilishly at him.
“Yes, I’m a naughty girl. I have no panties on,“ I told him with my eyes. “Would you like to see more?”