Page 14 of Sexy Bad Valentine

The floor bounces and the doors slide open and still I can’t relinquish her mouth. Hands slide into my hair, tugging at the roots while she moans deeply.

Someone clears their throat. Someone else mutters, “There’s no decency in young people.”

“You’re correct, Gladys,” the third of our audience says.

I want to tell them to go to hell, to take the stairs, to get the fuck out of our moment, but Evie peels away from me, wiping her mouth as she exits the elevator.

“Do you see that, Delores?” One of the old biddies shoves her bony elbow into her friend, almost knocking her cane out of her hand while she stares at my groin.

“I certainly do, Maureen.” Delores adjusts her pink zebra print glasses on their bright yellow chain. “That’s quite something, isn’t it?”

“The least he could have done is shown us a bit more flesh,” Gladys says as I try not to laugh at their conversation while I race to catch up with Evie. “This old ticker is on its way out, dear boy,” she calls after me. “I would have liked to die a happy woman.”

I turn around as I continue after Evie and wink at the women. Gladys pretends to be affected, clutching at her heart.

Catching up with Evie, I grab her hand. “Come on, my place is right here.”

She kisses me again as I unlock my apartment, only stopping when I push the door open. “Can I just say that you should feel free to do that whenever you want.”

“Can’t,” she reminds me, ducking her head, but I catch the way her now glossed and puffy lips curve in secret delight. “I just wanted to know what it would be like.”

“And what was it like?” I grab her hand before she gets too far away, tug her playfully back to me and hold her between my chest and the wall. She has the most amazing eyes. Vivid blue. They remind me of a beach I once went to with Deanna. It was in Greece, if I recall correctly. They’re locked on me now while she tugs her bottom lip beneath white teeth. A promise of paradise.

“I don’t know,” she says breathlessly, dropping her hand to the forearm closest to her waist and gripping it. “But it’s definitely something.”

“It definitely is,” I echo. I want to kiss her again, while I peel her pink puffy jacket from her shoulders. She’s so cute all wrapped up, with those black winter boots that come up to her knees. But she’s even more sexy without the extra layers. I have to turn away to hang up her coat, so I don’t run my hands over her supple curves and lithe muscles, which are so damn distracting. But what I really want to do is learn more about her. I toss my coat on the hook next to hers. “Do you want something to drink while we wait out the rain? I’ve got cocoa, tea, or coffee.”

“Sure. Cocoa would be nice.” She follows me down into the living area where she stops while I pop into the kitchen to heat milk. “Um, are you aware you’ve been ransacked?”

“That was Barclay,” I call out. How did I manage to forget the state of my apartment? Sure, Puppy Love has me busier than usual, and staying at Deanna’s means I haven’t had to look at it. At least I’d cleaned up his fire hydrant antics on my potted plant and carpet.

“It looks like a tornado whipped through here,” she exclaims.

“See what I mean? He’s out to get me.” I dump spoonfulls of cocoa and sugar into the milk on the stove as she joins me in the kitchen.

“He’s no worse than the goat.”

“How’d you end up with a goat anyway?” I find some marshmallows in the top of my cupboard.

“Spot’s not mine. She belongs to my employer’s brother. But I’ve heard some crazy stories about what that goat will eat, given half a chance. Still, she’s a good pet, and so is Barclay. He just needs attention.”

“Perhaps,” I concede, pouring our drinks.

“Definitely.” She takes the cup I hand to her and inhales the scented steam. “This smells divine.”

“It’s a family recipe my sister taught me. You add a pinch of cinnamon.”

“She must be an incredible cook. You said she started a business in her own kitchen?”

“She started with cookies,” I admit. For canines.

“That’s cool.” She sips her cocoa.

“Did you always want to be a nanny?” I change the topic as I rest a hip on the counter beside her. Apples and chocolate and cinnamon mingle in my nose and make my mouth water. She’s practically dessert in a sexy little 5ft 5” package.

“No, but it was better than working at The Cheesecake Shop.”

“A trade up?” I nudge her with my elbow.

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