Page 39 of Killer Kiss

Their suspicion melted away in an instant, both of them claiming to be in the lead. I smiled and nodded, laughing at their bickering, even though my mind was on getting in and out of Augie’s place before he returned.

“Well, I’ll leave the two of you to carry on. I’m just headed over to Augie’s place, so I’ll catch the two of you later.”

“Oh, he just left, sweetheart. You’ll have to come back later.”

I held up a shiny silver key. “It’s okay. He gave me a key so I can get in. I’ll just wait for him inside.”

They smiled and waved, one of them telling me to “Go on then, dear,” as I turned to walk across the road.

I imagined they’d spend the rest of the afternoon gossiping about the fact their handsome young neighbor had given a woman the key to his home.

Little did they know that key was actually to my front door, and I had zero intention of trying to use it at Augie’s place.

I had a lock pick for that.

I got to the door and had it open in less than thirty seconds, the lock giving in with a few twists of the tool.

Honestly, his security was pathetic. I could have picked that lock at ten years of age, which probably meant half the neighborhood here could too. It was a wonder he had anything left to steal.

But when I opened the door, I realized he actually didn’t. There was a TV in the living room, but it was tiny and ancient. An old leather couch sat facing it, but it was cracked, and one cushion had a tear that showed the stuffing inside. I wandered into the kitchen, opening a few cupboard doors that revealed clean glasses and plates, all mismatched and a few with chips taken out of them. It was clean but bare, much the same as the refrigerator when I opened it, just to be nosy. If anyone was breaking into this sad house, the most they were walking away with were two cans of beer from the bottom of the refrigerator. I placed an audio bug on the side of a cupboard and another behind the TV when a quick search through drawers and cupboards didn’t produce anything of interest.

The stairs were the only other place to go. I took them slowly, hunting around for family photos or anything personal that might have given any insight to this man, but there was nothing but bare walls.

At the top of the staircase, I opened a door to my left. Shock punched through me at the turquoise walls and the room all neatly made up. A blue bedspread covered the mattress, and a TV sat in one corner, though both were a little dusty. On poking through the closet, I found a handful of clothes, including old football uniforms that ranged from teenage size to small boy. A surfboard stood in the corner, and the walls had photos of beaches and big waves.

Though I didn’t even know him that well, I was instantly sure it wasn’t Augie’s room. The walls were too bright. The clothes too small for his broad shoulders. And there was a desolate air to the room that made me sure this wasn’t where he lay down at night.

I was so convinced I didn’t even put a bug in there.

I saved the last one I had for the bedroom across the hallway.

There was no doubt in my mind this was Augie’s room. An unmade bed sat in the center, silky black sheets a surprise beneath a dark-gray comforter. His pillows were strewn across the bed haphazardly, and I trailed my fingers over the place he slept. His blinds were open, with early afternoon sun streaming in over the dark-wood dresser that held his clothes. There was no closet, but that left room for a black armchair in one corner.

It was oddly placed, cutting off the flow of the room, and I found myself sitting, sinking back into the padded cushioning.

It was perfectly placed to watch the bed.

My breath quickened as my brain filled with the idea of watching him sleep. Of those silky sheets slipping down his hard body. Of them revealing the muscled planes of his back, his tattoos. Of them just barely covering the globes of his ass.

There was no doubt in my mind Augie slept naked. The man oozed sex appeal and confidence. There was no way he was slipping into a matching set of flannel pj’s every night.

There was no stopping the flush of heat at the thought of sitting here, watching him do a whole lot more than sleep.

The feeling was so foreign it was almost alarming. Augie’s scent permeated the air in the room so thickly it was like he was standing right in front of me. A rich mix of cologne and ocean, with a vague hint of smoke that I wanted to inhale deep so it could soak into my lungs.

“Get a fucking grip, Ophelia,” I muttered to myself. My gaze drifted around the room as I stood again, seeking a place to plant the final bug. It was pea-sized, and I rubbed it between my fingers while I hunted around the bedroom for the best spot.

“Want to tell me what the fuck you’re doing in my house?”

I spun around so quick I nearly dropped the bug, squeezing it at the last second so it didn’t drop and go rolling away across the threadbare carpet.

Augie leaned on the doorway, his biceps popping from the way he had his arms folded across his chest. I couldn’t help but stare at the way they strained at the thin, long-sleeved T-shirt, the material pulling tight.

By the time I dragged my eyes and my libido up to his face, he was smirking.

Shit. He knew very well I’d been checking him out. Which again, gave him the upper hand. I wanted to kick myself. I’d been so distracted thinking about the things he did in that damn bed I hadn’t even heard the door open or him walking up the stairs.

“You going to answer me or you just going to stand there staring at my arms? If you want to open your wallet, I can take my shirt off for you. Give you a better look?”

---