the sight of kitty in his shirt was something that, realistically, shouldnât be all that strange, but it definitely threw silas off a little when he stepped back into the room. it was hot. that was the only way he could put it. which, yeah, okay, maybe his vocabulary wasnât the biggest, but⌠still. and it wasnât just because of how nice her legs looked, either. heâd seen her in less clothing than this many times, at the beach or by the pool, but this felt⌠different. it was his shirt. it was domestic, and it was hot, and he knew he was just⌠absolutely fucked. âdinnerâs here.â he held up the takeout bag, forcing himself to look back up from kittyâs legs to her face. âthereâs some paper plates and utensils in the bag, take whatever you want, but leave me some crab rangoon, will ya?âÂ
after setting the bag on top of his desk, silas crossed the room, pulling out a pair of sweatpants from his dresser and laying them over the bed. he took his time in undressing out of his suit, dropping the clothing into his nearly overflowing hamper, before tugging on the sweatpants - pointedly not putting on a shirt. âif youâre thirsty, thereâs some drinks in the mini-fridge. help yourself.âÂ
âyou and the seafood, i swear,â kitty replied immediately, her tone teasing because that seemed like the safest territory at the moment. sheâd felt a lot more confident in nothing by silasâ t-shirt and her underwear and her bare feet before heâd stepped back into the room, but there was no backing out now. kitty went for the bag, unpacking food containers and plastic cutlery on silasâ desk. she shifted packages around, arranging everything so the larger containers were at the back, with smaller sauces interspersed in between. satisfied, she turned to the mini-fridge, a pork bun hanging half out of her mouth where her teeth held it fast as she rummaged for a can of coke. âthis was a really good idea,â kitty admitted, once sheâd planted herself on the ground at the foot of the bed, plate of food balanced precariously on her crossed legs. âbut if you tell anyone i said that, iâll deny it, obviously.âÂ
kitty sipped delicately at her soda, her eyes tracing the outline of silasâ ass over the can. probably a bad idea, all told, but if he was going to open admire her body every chance she got, she was entitled to do the same. âthose sweats are...â her sentence trailed off as kitty searched for the right word. âtheyâre nice. i should get a pair.â coward. fingers flexing on her fork, kitty patted the ground beside her with her free hand. âwhat are we watching, huh? no little sisters around to hog the remote.â