The truth: He tells Jessica how much she turns him on

“Dammit, why do you have to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Be all hot!” I shouted, laughing as I drunkenly poked my finger into her shoulder. “All year, I’m trying to be as faithful as a monk, and there you are, every night—this beautiful, gorgeous naked girl—walking down the hallway outside my room!”

“I am not naked! I’m wearing a towel.”

“Yeah, but underneath it you’re all naked and sexy and… dammit!”

Jessica just blushed and took another swig of the vodka. Tipsy or not, what I’d just said had crossed the line into awkwardness.

“I think it’s time for bed,” she sighed at last.

I just nodded, pulling on my tennis shoes while Jessica strolled over to her closet. “Thanks for talking, Jessica. I didn’t mean to say anything weird, I’m just kind of confused and—“

She suddenly peeled off the tight white polo shirt she’d been wearing. A plain white bra cut enticingly across the rich, warm color of her skin.

“What are you doing?” I stammered.

“Changing out of my work clothes,” she explained.

Feeling pretty confident that her behavior implied an invitation to stare, I reclined back on the bed and enjoyed the show as she lowered her slacks to the floor, giving me an eyeful of the peach-colored lace panties struggling to cover maybe a quarter of her ass.

“Cute underwear.”

“Thanks!” she giggled. Then, keeping her back to me, Jessica unsnapped her bra and threw it in the hamper. The sides of her ample, naked breasts swung teasingly into view.

Whoa.

She rejoined me on the bed, concealing her tits with nothing but her hands.

“There,” she sighed. “Much better. That bra was getting all itchy.”

“Your hands are more comfortable, I take it?”

She bit her lip and grinned suggestively. “Anyone’s hands, really.”

I wanted Jessica so badly—thoughts of her naked body had been keeping me up at night since orientation...