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“Kara, what—what the hell?” Alex muttered.

She’d come over to Kara’s apartment for a sisterly brunch. She certainly hadn’t expected Kara to answer the door completely naked.

Gathering her wits, Alex shoved Kara back inside and jumped in after her, closing and locking the door behind her. “Where are your clothes!?”

“In the closet?” Kara answered derisively. “And in the hamper. I’ll be making a laundry run soon—“

“Dressed like that?”

Kara looked down at her svelte body, totally bared to Alex—sparse curls of golden fuzz cresting her thighs, a long flat stretch of belly that seemed to go on forever like the sands of a beach, the mounds of her breasts interrupting that lean flesh, then the long legs, the long arms, swinging and strutting around in some perfect harmony. It seemed naughty just that she was gesturing with them instead of covering herself.

“Well, I’m not really dressed like anything, now am I?” Kara clapped Alex’s shoulder. “Lighten up, sis. I’m Kryptonian. Why should I have to live by some puritanical Earth custom in my own home?”

“I just thought—I didn’t know that Kryptonians could be so…”

“Naked?” Kara smiled at her. “There’s a lot you don’t know about us. But c’mon, it’s just us girls. Sisters, even. Maybe you should lose the pants and join me.”

Alex went boggle-eyed. “I… I like my pants…”

“Me too. Nice and tight. I should borrow them sometime. You know—if I decide to put clothes on.”

Alex gulped. “I just—what if someone came in, they could see you like this…” It occurred to her she should look away from Kara; she’d seen all there was to see, and there was a lot to see, and even if this wasn’t private for Kara, it was private for her, and so she should be looking at her shoes, she should really be looking at her shoes…

“What? Like if a burglar decided just now to kick down the door and rob the place?” Kara smiled. Somehow that was even more alluring than her nakedness. “You seem really weird about this, Alex. Is it any different than if I were wearing my Supergirl costume around the house? If someone broke in, they could figure out that Kara and Supergirl are one and the same. Would you be so, ah, tongue-tied if I had on a skirt? Some kicky little boots?”

Alex stared at her shoes. “I, I don’t know, what are you, what’re you getting at, you’re, you’re, you’re… naked!”

She was aware of Kara walking closer—padding closer on her bare feet. Not one ounce of fat on her perfect body, nothing to jiggle except the pert globes of her buttocks and her tits, shit, her breasts, her cleavage—everything else was just a stirring of muscles beneath her clear, creamy skin.

“It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before, Alex. What’s changed? What’s made this so… naughty?”

Alex’s ears burned, a fit of angry frustration overwhelming her at this awkward situation Kara had put her in for no damn reason. “Because it’s like you want me to look at you!” she snapped.

Then froze. God. What had she said? What the fuck had she said?

Then, horribly, deliciously, she felt Kara’s finger run over her cheek. It wasn’t like Kara ever wore gloves, fingerprints be damned—but there was something about her touch now, her warmth, that made it seem positively obscene. Alex jerked away, only for Kara to catch her chin in her hand, holding Alex so tightly, so firmly…

“Why wouldn’t I want you look at me? I like it when you look at me. Should I be ashamed of that?” Kara asked. Her words were quiet, but Alex could feel the heat of them hitting her throat. Kara was close. Too close.