Page 12 of Lust
She placed her cards down, stretched her arms out wide, and removed her jacket, pushing out her chest seductively. Then she untwined her scarf and found a tie in her jeans pocket to secure her long brown hair in a top knot. With every movement she made, she took special care to play into her femininity. It was there… she usually preferred to ignore it. And admittedly, she ignored it more often than not since she’d started puking after sex.
“Bit stifling in here with all these hot-headed assholes,” she joked, and fanned her face, and then trailed a lingering finger along her décolletage as she shifted an errant strand of escaped hair.
The men snorted sarcastically. Except Joe. His expression remained stoic, as though he did his best to hold in any reaction. But she caught the flick of his gaze to her neck and then the slow drag to her breasts before he busied himself with sorting his cards again.
It should have made her feel triumphant, but it didn’t. It made her unsettled, squirming, and a little flushed.
She needed a drink. While the men started the round, she went to the kitchen and helped herself. It was a typical male spread, antipasto mixed with random things like nuts and raspberry licorice. A few cold beers sat unopened. She took one, popped the cap, and hesitated. She preferred to use a straw when drinking from a bottle. She might not be a prissy girl, but her teeth were the one thing she liked to keep nice. The acid in beer, coffee, and wine would eventually stain.
Liza checked cupboards to see if she could find something else to drink, or even better, straws. She bent low and opened doors, but found nothing but plates and utensils.
She felt him before she saw him—a lick of heat along her spine as she straightened.
“Here,” Joe said. He reached past her to open an overhead cupboard. For a moment, all she could see was his broad chest. All she could feel was his body heat. And his scent—deep, masculine, and freshly showered. He pulled out a small cardboard box of paper straws and dumped them on the counter. “These what you looking for?”
Someone cracked a joke at the table, and a burst of laughter filled the room. She picked up the packet and faced Joe.
“Thanks,” she murmured.
He gave a half shrug, made to return to the table, but she stopped him by blurting out the first thing she could think of.
“You’ve changed, Luciano,” she commented with a wry look at his physique.
God damn, Lazarus. What’s with the pervy comment?
His lips pursed, he folded his arms, and then gave her ass a pointed look. “You haven’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He dodged the straw she ditched at him, barely containing the grin twitching on his lips. “You know what it means.” His expression shifted to a concerned pout. “Maybe you should cut down on the raspberry licorice. Don’t want to cause a split like last time.”
“That was one time only, and it was because my jeans were old!”
She huffed, folded her arms, and gave him daggers. Maybe he hadn’t changed. He wasstillgiving her shit about embarrassing moments.
“My ass is all muscle, thank you very much,” she said, turned her rear, and flexed her perfect globes fitting snugly into her denim. “Go on, squeeze it. Punch it, even.”
Silence. She looked up to find his expression had gone lax, except for the simmering heat in his eyes as he held her gaze.
A moment of silent awareness passed between them.
“I’m good,” he said, still holding her gaze.
“That’s what I thought. You’re afraid you’ll break your fist on it.”
His blazing eyes tracked down her body and settled on the curve of her rear in a way that made her heart thump in her chest. Confident Joey was a little hot. It sent her stomach flipping. She tried to laugh off the tension.
“Next time you mention my ass, Luciano, it better be because you think it’s amazing, or I’ll clock you like that time in gym class.”
Did she just say shewantedhim to say her ass was amazing? Adrenaline surged in her system, leaving her skin feeling itchy and hot. What was she doing? Flirting? She hastily grabbed her straw and returned to the poker table. This new Joe was throwing off every instinct she had about him. The old Joe would never have stared at her ass like that. He’d have laughed off the joke, too.Jesus Christ, she was in turmoil.
She’d barely picked up her cards when a knock came at the door.
“You fucking kidding me?” Joe muttered. “Does the super in this building let everyone up?”
Liza hid her smile behind her hand, but it died when a female voice shouted through the door.
“Pumpkin, you home?”
