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Here we go.
Walking to the door, I switch the sound of the music down—I don’t want any interruptions if this goes how I really fucking hope it will. And then I’m there, opening the door and staring at Lola, her face red with frustration and anger, hands on her hips, that irresistible outfit she’s mastered of a too-small tank top and skin-tight shorts showing off the curves I’ve been putting to paper for weeks.
“Change it back,” she says through gritted teeth.
I take another step outside of my apartment and cross my arms over my chest as I lean against the door.
Lola takes a step back, maintaining the distance between us.
“Change what?” I say, the smile taking over my face.
She looks good.
I hate to admit it, but fuck, I missed seeing her angry face.
Or maybe I should man up and just start admitting it. Maybe that would make my life easier.
“I don’t want to do this, Ben, seriously. I’m exhausted. I’ve been up late every night thanks to your loud fucking music—”
“It’s off every night by eleven,” I say, stepping closer to her. She steps away again, her back aiming toward the wall that lines the landing between our apartments.
She licks her lips, her eyebrows coming together in confusion.
“Eleven?”
“That’s what you told me. You need the music off by eleven. It’s always off.” No response. “You also haven’t come over to tell me to turn it down.”
“Like that would have helped? I’ve tried that before, remember?”
“But that was before,” I say, stepping toward her again. Her back bumps the wall, and while I leave space between us, it’s burning with tension.
She feels it.
I know she does.
“Before what?” she says, her tongue dipping out to taste her lip.
Fuuuck.
“Before this started. Before we started.”
“There’s no—” I take a step closer to her, and while our bodies aren’t touching, I can feel her heat.
“Don’t start lying to me now, Lola.” She doesn’t respond, and I put a hand on the wall next to her head, bending low until our faces are close but not touching. Her head tips up, looking at me. “There’s something here, Lola. I fought it; you’ve been fighting it. We drive each other wild, but I know you’ve wondered if we can drive each other crazy in other ways.”
“I—”
“Don’t lie, Lola.” And then it happens.
Her chin tips up, just enough so her lips graze mine, and I’m kissing Lola Turner again for the first time in weeks.
Like the previous times, my mind goes blank and my body turns to fire. I take the smallest step until our bodies are lined up as I sneak my tongue past her lips, tasting her again. She moans as I slip into her mouth.
Her hand moves around my neck, trying to encourage me to move, to get closer to her. She needs more. I know.
And I want more just the same.
This woman might baffle me at every turn, but here? Like this?
