Page 10 of Ruthless Love

“I’m trying to respect you,” she says. “I don’t want things getting awkward.”

“We wouldn’t want that. Awkwardness between a cockstitute and his madame.”

Flustered, she gives up, and her eyes finally meet mine. “Keep it, hotshot. Maybe you can play bullfighter with some nice nana’s mouth.”

“But you might need it for the next starving model you come across.”

“I have a feeling naked neighbors only happen once in a full moon,” she says, before exclaiming, “Blue moon. I mean blue moon.”

This woman has the most kissable lips I’ve ever seen, which pout harder when she’s flustered.

Note to self: keep this woman off-kilter at all costs.

Another buzz from her phone steals her attention. Her apologetic eyes lock with mine as she answers with a very professional hello. I give her a solid wink of forgiveness, which she readily accepts by relaxing her shoulders and easing into her call. But I’m not ready to let her completely off the hook. Not yet.

Before she takes her luscious lips, shapely legs, and smoldering strut out the door, my playful toss lands the blanket square over her head, which she wrestles off with a giggle.

“Can you hang on a minute?” she says into the phone before muting the line.

Her eyebrows flatten, but the twinkle in her eyes has a fiery brightness I need to see more of. A lot more of.

“Behave,” she says, scolding me.

“Not my style,” I say, defiant as my gruff voice assures her and I pin her with my stare.

After a minute of watching her squint back, a move that gives her nose an adorable crinkle, we both hear the muffled Are you still there? from the woman on the other end of the line.

My neighbor assaults the phone three times, finally unmuting it to say, “Yes. Yes, I’m still here.”

With our staring contest cut short, she mouths, “Gotta go.”

When I pretend not to understand and cup my ear, she pouts. Mission accomplished.

Her smile returns in spades, and I dismiss her, sweeping my fingers through the air to shoo her away. Flustered, she gives my front door a few vigorous pulls. Though her door and mine are nearly identical, they are hung differently, and it takes her half a second to realize she needs to pull rather than push. Why she opted to have her front door open outward, I’ll never understand.

Casually, I follow and lean my nakedness against the door frame. It’s only when she looks back that she knows I’m watching, wearing nothing more than a wide grin.

This one’s had a better look at me than any woman in months, so fuck it. Enjoy the view, neighbor.

She buckles herself into her car, talking loud to her car’s speakerphone as the convertible top descends. With no other noise than her quiet engine and a few chirping birds in the background, her request for some deposition paperwork by ten this morning sounds more like an ask than a demand, and is infinitely kinder than those same words coming from Simone. With wide eyes, mouth agape, and a shy wave, she drives away.

Amused, I finally close the heavy door, unable to slam shut the notion that I’ll be seeing the little baker girl again. Why does that excite me? No idea, but it does.

What I do know is that after you make a woman your pimp, getting to know her better is no longer an option.

Chapter Six

AUSTIN

I intended to check up on the little baker girl, but I’m knee deep in another day of battling unreliable contractors and cleaning up one permit issue after another. Overall, I’ve barely had a minute to eat, shit, or breathe since her gorgeous body blushed its way across my kitchen nearly a week ago.

And on the nightly occasions I indulge in a peek at her kitchen window, she looks to be keeping about the same hours I am, getting in way too late for company. At least, the respectable kind. And since she’s come to the conclusion that I’m not respectable, absolutely nothing is stopping me from visiting her after work this evening.

Ready for this day to be over, I drag myself around the office with our latest intern—a guy from my old unit, fresh out of the service. Our next stop is Elena, my lead engineer, who needs a reprieve from squinting at her screen, and I rescue her from her slow descent into blindness.

“Hey, Elena.”

She smiles, massaging an oncoming migraine from her temples. Rubbing her red eyes, she smothers a yawn to give us her attention.

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