Page 32 of Jerk Neighbor

With Georgette here, he could focus on priorities.

He couldn’t imagine focusing on anything else with Paula around.

He couldn’t imagine forgetting fucking Paula. Forgetting a single kiss.

Damn, he wanted another one. Urgently.

She must have seen something in his expression, because she sobered and looked away. “Well, should we...”

“I guess we should.” Reluctantly, he let himself out of the car.

She waited while he opened the door for her; it gave him the strangest thrill, that she’d allow him this courtesy. Somehow he’d expected her to refuse it.

The shapely leather booties that swung to the ground had long laces and square toes, but low enough heels that he didn’t feel like he had to carry her over the snow mounds. He was tempted to, anyway.

Bundled up in her plush coat, her hair in a flirty cloud, her mouth smiling, she looked warm and soft and perfect. Impulsively he kept her there, placing a hand on her arm when she would have walked around him.

It marked the first time he’d touched her since that morning.

Even through several layers of clothing it had a drastic effect. It both soothed him and made him need much, much more.

Anger rose suddenly within him. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so resentful. This whole situation was fucked up.

“You are so gorgeous,” he burst out.

She stiffened. “Look, Bastian, I told you, you don’t have to—”

“You smell like apples.”

“—bother to say all that stuff since we’re not even really—”

“I hate having to do this, be here like this.”

“—together.” And then she finally seemed to hear him and shut up.

He leaned down to whisper thickly in her ear, and inhaled cinnamon, apple and the spice that was all her. “I hate Christmas. It’s always the same. My family does most of their networking this time of year. They pretend otherwise, but it’s always the same, all work, all business. But you, Paula Raymond...you’re not business. You’re not a convenience. Not even close.” He looked into her huge eyes as he laid a kiss on her cool, soft cheek. “I want you as my Christmas present. I want you. So fucking much.” He dragged his mouth down her skin, inhaling the heady scent of her. “Cinnamon and apples. Perfect.”

“Am I supposed to be incredibly flat...uh, flattered that...” Paula seemed to be having a hard time speaking. Her cheek was like silk against his lips, and he wondered if she realized how tempting her parted mouth was. He ached to kiss that agitated frown away.

“I’m tired of ignoring what I want,” he murmured. “You know what I want more than anything else? To lay you down and unwrap you completely.”

“You mean it.” She seemed astonished.

“You have no idea how much.”

“Huh.”

“What about you?” He brushed her cheek again. “What do you want, honeycrisp?”

She stared into his eyes. Around them, the breeze was calm and frosty, the night glowing with moonlight and the elaborate light arrangements the neighborhood was known for. “You mean from life, generally, or right at this moment?”

“Life, this moment...both.”

“Let’s see, right now I want a pleasant evening, warmth, munchies, good conversation. In the grand scheme of things, I want all the mocha shakes, to end world stupidity, and kids.”

A deep satisfaction that he didn’t understand filled him. “You want children?”

“Of course. They’re like people, only better.”

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