Read No Test for the Wicked: A Lexi Carmichael Mystery, Book Five for Free Online Page B

blouse a bit. Voila, you have slinky.”
    “Unbuttoning it makes it slinky?”
    “Hell, yes.”
    I hesitated. “I’m not sure I could do that.”
    “Sure you could. You asked me to define casual. That would definitely meet his requirement of casual.”
    “You’re sure?”
    “Of course, I’m sure. I’m a guy, aren’t I?”
    “That’s true. Okay, thanks, Ken.”
    “Anytime.”
    * * *
    I showered, then dried my hair. Time for the hard part. I had a clean pair of black slacks, but I couldn’t figure out which blouse I should pick to go with it. I laid out my lingerie on the bed. Other than the standard white and nude cotton bras and panties, I had only a black bra with no matching undies, a red padded bra and four matching thongs (long story how I got those) and a purple bra with sequins and matching underwear as a result of my one disastrous foray as a stripper (an even longer story). After a long consideration, I chose the purple ensemble and picked my purple blouse to go on top. I unfastened the top button, but you could only see a glimpse of my throat. I should have asked Ken whether the bra was supposed to show a little bit or a lot. I unbuttoned one more. My neck was visible, but no hint of the bra. Jeez, why couldn’t there be some sort of manual to determine the correct procedure?
    Thank God for the Internet. I sat down in front of my laptop and Googled how many buttons was standard to unbutton on a woman’s blouse. Unfortunately, all the answers referred to men and how many buttons they could politely unfasten once they took off a tie. Apparently men needed all the fashion advice. Unbuttoning blouses was left completely in the hands of women who—with the exception of me—knew exactly how many to unbutton to define casual. Standing in front of the mirror, I unbuttoned one more. Now I could see the edge of the purple bra.
    Sighing, I decided to leave it for the time being and worry about the rest of me. My hair was long and loose. Remembering Ben’s words about how young I looked with my hair in a ponytail, I left it down. I went to the bathroom and swiped on some mascara and lip gloss. I probably should have done more, but I’d already started to get cranky. What I really wanted to do was put on my sweatpants and play Hollow Realm while eating cornflakes. I was emotionally exhausted and I hadn’t even set one foot out of my apartment yet.
    There was a soft knock at the door. I peeked out the peephole and saw Slash standing there. I opened the door.
    “So, now that we’re dating you knock on the door?”
    Slash was a master at entering rooms without needing a key or an invitation. He had conquered my door a long time ago, despite my fancy alarm system.
    He lifted an eyebrow. “You’re giving me permission to enter at will?”
    “You’ve
always
entered at will.”
    “But not with the same purpose.”
    “What purpose is that?”
    He leaned across the threshold and kissed me. “This.” He murmured something in Italian against my lips. I felt my knees getting weak as he deepened the kiss.
    A throat cleared and I opened my eyes. My neighbor Jan Walton and her seven-year old son, Jaime, stood at their door, staring openmouthed at me.
    I stepped back from Slash, my cheeks heating. “Ah, hey, Jan. Jaime. How are you guys? Um, this is Slash.”
    “Lexi?” Jan seemed shocked to see me kissing a guy. Okay, it
was
kind of shocking, given the fact that it was me and I was engaging in a public display of affection in the hallway of my apartment complex. I hadn’t been thinking, which happened to me a lot when he kissed me.
    Jaime, who was high-functioning autistic, only had eyes for Slash. “Did you know that human bodies contain ten times more bacteria than human cells? Up to five hundred differing kinds of bacteria can live on our skin at any given time. By putting your mouth on her like that you have likely exchanged no fewer than one hundred thousand germs, many of which have the potential to