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Like an angel. Like every fantasy he’d ever had, with or without optional whipped cream. She waved and he waved back, feeling vaguely stupid but unable to keep a dopey grin from forming.
I’m looking. U coming up?
R u up?
U know it. R u wet?
Oh yeah. And I brought condoms.
His grin threatened to split his cheeks.
Genius. Apt. 301.
He watched her until she disappeared under the small awning that shaded the back entrance, awed by the long, dark hair swinging down her back. Distracted by it, he almost missed the sway of her butt in what looked like dark denim and the click of her heels—
Heels. Dark denim. Dear God.
He practically ran to the door just to watch her ascend the stairs. She reached the top step, transforming the ripped stair runner and dingy, paint-chipped walls just by virtue of her sexy smile.
It wasn’t even Christmas yet and his gift had just arrived.
Loose hair, tight jeans that clung to her butt, a scanty little shirt that left a slice of her belly bare and showed off her freckled shoulders. And her nipples. She hadn’t worn a bra, as requested.
Holy fuck.
She’d swept her eyelids with smoky makeup and her dark-pink lips looked plump enough to suck. His cock jumped against his fly with such urgency he had to brace a hand on the doorjamb to keep from tackling her.
“What do you think?” She turned, modeling for him. “I went for three-inch heels instead of four because I didn’t want to trip. And this isn’t exactly a tube top—”
Close enough. “Get in here.”
Instead of doing as he asked, she shook the plastic drugstore bag she carried. Friggin’ tease. “Uh uh. If I go in there, we’ll be staying.”
“Is that a problem?”
“Yes.” She nodded solemnly. “I have things to show you.”
He didn’t doubt it. “Like what?”
“Like my cottage.” At his prolonged look, she added, “And my studio. Just in case you forgot them.”
He grinned. She’d fought for the house? And won it, apparently? He wanted to hug her but he managed to restrain himself. Giving her a hug in the state he was in might mean a whole lot of getting naked right here in the hallway. “Your cottage, hmm?”
“Yes.” Her smile lit up her face. “All mine. Decorated just the way I want it. No coloring within the lines. I changed the bedroom completely too. Now nothing matches.”
The glee in her voice triggered a laugh. He loved seeing her like this. Sexy and happy and most of all, free.
He hoped to God she was free.
“I can’t wait to see it. All of it. But why don’t you come in? Since you’re here already and all. Promise, my apartment’s not quite as bad as I made it seem,” he said, glancing over his shoulder to ensure he hadn’t left any old takeout car
tons on the coffee table. Nope. No dirty clothes on the sofa either. He was golden. “It’s small and I’m not the best housekeeper but—”
She eased around him, wiggling that taut butt over parts of him that greatly appreciated the attention. “So give me a tour.”
He shut the door and stared as she strode across his living room. Hot damn, had she spray-painted on those jeans?
“You convinced me. I want to see your place before we go.”
