Page 35 of Spades

God…

He’s smoldering. His eyes, his lips, his hair now a mess.

This isn’t the Maddox Hathaway I met in the haberdashery. The man who listens to vinyl records, drives a Rolls-Royce, and wears meticulously tailored suits to his club downtown.

This is a man who wants a woman.

And I’m that woman.

He kisses me again, this time harder, more raw. Our tongues and teeth clash as I reach for him, desperate to touch every part of him. He presses against me, and I can feel the hard bulge beneath his pants.

What the hell? He grabbed my tit.

I grab the bulge and lightly squeeze it. He groans but doesn’t stop kissing me.

His bulge, as I predicted, is huge. There’s a monster in there, and I can’t wait to unleash it.

I’m tempted to unbuckle his belt and let it out?—

But then a creaking sound.

Oh, my God. We’re not even inside my apartment. I’m ready to fuck him in the hallway.

My neighbor opens the door. Mrs. Tulgey. A middle-aged divorcée who lives alone. I don’t run into her very often, so that’s pretty much all I know about her. She’s wearing a dingy bathrobe and has on some kind of facial mask.

She widens her eyes when she sees us. “Oh, good evening, Alissa. You’re out late.”

I nod, dropping my arms from Maddox’s waist. “Hello, Mrs. Tulgey.”

She blinks several times. “Sorry if I interrupted. Just putting the milk bottles out.”

“Not interrupting anything,” I say. “This is my…friend, Maddox.”

Maddox discreetly adjusts himself before turning around and shaking Mrs. Tulgey’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

She looks him up and down. “Hello.”

“I was seeing Alissa up to her apartment.”

“I’ll leave you to it,” Mrs. Tulgey says. “Make sure to put your milk bottles out, Alissa.”

I don’t get milk delivered, but if this gets Mrs. Tulgey out of the hallway, I’ll humor her. “Thanks for the reminder. Good night.”

“Good night.” She looks back at Maddox, her eyes narrowed. “Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Just one of those faces,” Maddox says quickly. “Have a good evening.”

“I will.” She smiles at Maddox and then wags a finger at me. “Don’t forget the milk bottles.” She finally closes her door.

I let out a breath. “Sorry about that,” I say.

Maddox grins. “Probably for the best. We were about to… Well, who knows what we would have done out here in the hall if she hadn’t interrupted us.”

I swallow. “I can still bring you inside, if you’d like that drink.”

He blinks several times, scratching at the side of his head. “You know what? It’s late. And as much as I’d love tohave a drink”—he winks—“I’d rather save it for the next time. Anticipation and all. I’ll text you.”

I hope I’m successful at keeping a look of disappointment off my face.

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