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"Then ... why am I naked? Did we ... you know ... last night?"
He shook his head. "No. Even if you were lying there naked, I do respect women enough not to take advantage of you like that."
Her relief was short-lived. She was surprised to feel a sudden pang of regret. She hadn't done anything with this admittedly gorgeous man. That seemed like a shame. Obviously, Tom--better known as T--was more attractive than she'd realized the night before. She'd definitely overlooked him last night, but her attraction to him was growing more obvious by the minute. Regardless, she still didn't know why she was here.
Still chuckling, Tom covered himself with his hands and climbed out of bed. Damn, Leslie thought. Her head filled suddenly with fantasies of what she could have done to him. Too late now, she thought. She watched him cross the room and open a drawer in the whitewashed dresser near the window. He stepped into a pair of tight underwear, snapping the waistband. When he turned, her eyes fixed on the prominent bulge. Despite her misgivings, her knees grew weak beneath her.