Page 17 of Rainstorm

“Thank you.” She fetched a vase to put the flowers in, then set them on her table. “They are beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you.” Yeah, yeah, I was becoming a master at cheesy quotes.

What could I do? I wasn’t a poet, I was just a bewitched man. Those smiles were digging deep in me.

Inch by inch.

No, not my dick, although he was already crying out for her.

“I’ll just be a minute, make yourself at home,” she instructed as she disappeared behind a set of wooden doors.

Men always complain about those infamous words, because women always take longer than ‘just a minute’ to get ready, but it didn’t bother me, not when I was close enough to smell her perfume. Something floral and citrusy, sweet and mysterious, like the woman herself.

Besides, it gave me a chance to get acquainted with her apartment, her personal space.

Mint colored walls and white-washed furniture. Feminine, classy and strong. An enticing combination, those pieces spoke volumes about her.

A cabinet top displaying mismatched frames caught my attention next. It looked antique, but the paint was fresh with the effects the artisan had made on the aged wood. It was well finished, smooth and flawless, mirroring her own skin.

I was studying the piece of furniture when the clatter of heels on the hardwood floor announced Roselynn’s return.

“You like it?” She sounded a little nervous, but there was also a hint of pride. I nodded, keeping my mouth shut because all I could do was stare at her.

Ogling.

My senses drooling over her exposed skin.

I was in her home, with a lustful plan running through my mind, my hands balled into hard fists at my sides, itching to touch her. My thoughts were a dangerous minefield, and we needed to get the fuck out of there if I wasn’t to blow my chances by acting on my urges, frightening her off with too much too soon.

“I made that piece,” she informed me with a shy smile. “Well, I restored it.”

Fuck. All I could think was ‘Yeah, baby, I’d sure like those legs of yours wrapped around my hips, with your butt on that fancy cabinet while I pound inside you.’

But I kept those thoughts to myself of course, even as my eyebrows arched upward at my little fantasy. “You’ve made a wonderful piece, Roselynn. These little touches here and there.” The cabinet wasn’t that big, maybe four feet across and three feet tall, three drawers enhanced with some carvings and figurines. It was indeed a beautiful piece.

She laughed a little before speaking again. “When I brought it home it was no more than a piece of garbage, in my father’s words, and he wanted to give me some money to buy real furniture for my new home. But when I saw it at the flea market I couldn’t help myself. I found a treasure, it just needed some TLC.”

At the sound of her sweet voice explaining her passion, something bloomed inside me. She was a keeper, in more ways than one. She could see the beauty hidden behind layers of dust and oblivion.

Our conversation consisted of nails, wood and paint. But those little words said so much about her, about her heart. Fuck, the more I discovered, the more I wanted to know. She intrigued me. Her eyes enraptured me. Her smile bewitched me. But the real enigma remained veiled to the eye. That voice inside me murmuring it only would be visible with closed eyes, allowing my soul to do the work. Yeah, she was The Rose.

“Are you ready?” I asked, admiring the way her simple little dress showed off her sexy, toned legs. Her hair was up in a sleek ponytail, leaving her swan-like neck exposed, making me eager to taste all that soft, pale skin.

She nodded, grabbing a long cardigan from the couch. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

She beamed, lighting up like a beacon on the bay. “I like surprises.”

“Good, because I’m full of them.”

As I took her hand, my gut lurched at that little touch, and just knowing that she was letting me take the lead allowed the knot in my chest to loosen.

I strode along confidently, hearing her footsteps following behind me.

All the while falling so hard.

Chapter 5