Maxine held up the top and eyed the dimensions. Her computer was open on her bed nestled among a nest of cut up sweaters. The vintage poster of the pin up girl with the partially knit sweater blinked back from the screen.
She knew the sweater didn’t have to match perfectly since Antony would be too preoccupied appreciating her see ends to notice the pattern, but she wanted the length to be exactly right.
The sweater had to hit just under her breasts, the same as the girl in the picture. She slipped it over her head, careful not to smudge her makeup—which matched the pin up girl perfectly, especially the lipstick. Maxine started to get lightheaded thinking about the various parts of Antony she could leave lipstick marks.
He was finally coming home.
Maxine wanted nothing more than to be in his arms all night, and even the next day. She’d already taken tomorrow off, anticipating a day of leisurely, delicious sex with Antony throughout her apartment.
“You’re getting as bad as Stuart,” she reprimanded herself.
But ever since she saw Antony suffer the hit on the ice, a part of her had been holding its breath, waiting until she could put her hands on him, feel his heart beating. She knew how big and solid he was, and to see him bowled over, and sent sprawling across the ice as if he was nothing but a ragdoll was nauseating.
He’s dead, her heart had screamed. But while the crowd went ballistic, some booing, some cheering, Antony simply pushed himself to his knees and slowly got up.
“Your boyfriend is Rhino Man or something!” Stuart had said.
Standing in front of the mirror on the back of her bedroom door, Maxine took in her handy work with a critical eye. The bottom half of the sweater she’d cut away wasn’t exactly straight, and the seams across the shoulders were a bit tight, making her worry she had sausage arms.
Then she stood taller, arched her back, and raised her arms over her head in a seductive pose. With the short black skirt and fishnet stockings, the effect was perfect. The bottom edge of the sweater lifted, showing off the swell of the bottom of her breasts.
Antony would lose his mind.
Maxine wondered how long she should tease him. Maybe she’d have him strip for her first or maybe he could pull the lose thread on the sweater, to continuously reveal her breasts as the yarn unraveled.
With nimble fingers, she tugged at the cut edge, looking for the longest piece she could offer him to pull. Maxine was leaving nothing to chance in this seduction. She wanted him to know beyond any doubt that she was his.
“Je suis à vous,” she whispered, wondering if he could feel her pledge through the miles that separated them.
She closed her eyes, wishing he was already there with her, touching her, kissing her, claiming her body with his mouth and hands. The desire was overwhelming. She grabbed her phone off the bedside table and dialed him, ready to leave him a sexy message. She stood in
front of the mirror, smoothed down the sweater, and then played with the fringe, back and forth, barely grazing her nipples, now hardened with the thoughts of Antony’s tongue.
“Allo?”
Maxine almost dropped the phone. “I thought you were still flying. I was going to leave a message.” She laughed a bit. “So, are you home now?”
“Oui.”
His sexy French accent still made her knees weak.
He sounded like he was smiling.
Maxine swallowed, trying to stay casual. “Listen, there’s something we need to discuss,” she started. “I was hoping I could come over. Is it all right to come over? Are you alone?”
There was a pause on the other end, and then he said, “Oui.” His breathy anticipation almost made Maxine tell him everything she was planning, but she had to be prepared to draw this out, the payoff was too great to resist.
She hung up without another word, grabbed her long winter coat, and called a cab. Maxine knew it was stupid to wear high heels in the snow, but she reasoned while winter boots were warmer and better at preventing a fall on the icy sidewalk, they would totally ruin all the work she’d done on her sexy outfit.
After paying the cabbie and tiptoeing through the snowbank, she passed through the foyer, her cheeks blooming with color, and stepped into the elevator.
Using the key he’d given her, she unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped inside. Her heart swelled when she saw his luggage in the hallway, his phone was on the hall table.
The living room was dark. She glanced in the kitchen and saw Antony had set out two place settings for supper. A warmth eased over her frayed nerves.
It didn’t matter if she’d shown up in her housecoat and sweatpants, he’d still sweep her into his arms. “Antony!” she sang out.
There was the sound of a flush from the bathroom down the hallway.
Maxine slipped out of her winter coat, letting it fall on the floor at her feet, and then she leaned against the wall, directly facing the hallway. She tilted up her chin and raised her hands over her head for the optimal seductive pose. One knee slightly bent and crossed in front of the other.
The bathroom door opened.
Maxine closed her eyes. He could take her up against the wall if he wanted. Please let him want that, she prayed.
Something moved over the carpet toward her. She kept her eyes closed and bit her lower lip, bracing herself for him to take her. The seconds ticked by excruciatingly slow.
He cleared his throat then said, “Maxine, I presume?”
She opened her eyes and screamed, dropping her arms and crossing them in front of her chest.