Page 9 of Suck My Puck

When she looks at me, her brow raises the slightest bit in surprise. And then that frown I remember from yesterday appears.

Her full, pouty lips purse like she’s pissed to see me. My dick twitches in my pants again. Well. That’s…different. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten excited over a pissed-off expression before.

But no lie, this woman is stunning. And she’s really fucking hot when she’s mad.

“Well. If it isn’t my jerk neighbor,” she says.

“If that’s what you want to call me from now on, fine. But I have an actual name.”

Her eyes narrow as she studies me. “I kind of like my nickname for you. I can tell it pisses you off.”

“I guess it’s better than some of the other names you called me yesterday.”

“What did you expect? You woke me up from a dead sleep with terrible music.”

“Hey, now. I have excellent taste in music.”

“You call screaming and growling music?”

“Yeah. It’s rough and raw. I’m into it.” I can’t help but smile. It’s fun teasing her like this.

“Whatever you say,” she mutters. She turns away for a second. When she turns back to me, she has a kitchen towel in her hand.

“At least it wasn’t country,” she says as she wipes down the bartop in front of her. “That would have been grounds for murdering you.”

I can’t help the grin pulling at my lips. “Not a country fan?”

“God, no. I can’t handle listening to guys wailing about their trucks and tractors.”

I burst out laughing. The corner of her mouth twitches up like she’s fighting a smile.

My heart skids in my chest. Fuck. That’s cute.

If that’s what she looks like when she almost smiles, how beautiful is she when she full-on smiles?

I already know the answer to that question. Fucking gorgeous.

“You don’t have to worry. Country’s not really my thing,” I say.

“Good. But please tell me you listen to other genres of music besides death screaming.”

I laugh. “Of course I do. I like almost anything.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Except country.”

“Obviously. I love a good pop song.”

She lets out a surprised laugh. And that’s when I see them. Dimples.

The sexiest, most adorable fucking dimples I’ve ever seen flank her gorgeous smile. I try not to stare, but I can’t help it. This woman is breathtaking when she smiles.

“Wait, you like pop music?” she asks.

“Hey, don’t hate. Pop is fun. It’s the perfect music to listen to when I go running.”

“No hate. I’m just surprised.”

“What? I don’t look like your average pop fan?” I tease.

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