Page 8 of Her Hero

Font Size:  

He chuckled.

“More than fine, Josie.”

“You could have just left me out there in the cold. I could have died.”

“Not possible.” He would never let her die.

They finished his laundry and made their way into his sitting room. He put on a little music. Soft, classical music that filled the room.

“Can I offer you a drink?” he asked, holding up a large bottle of whiskey.

“Er, sure, why not. I don’t drink, like ever.”

“I can get you a coffee? Hot chocolate?”

“Nah, I’ll try the whiskey,” she said.

“A woman after my own heart.” He poured them both a drink, and took one to her. She took the glass, sniffed the contents, and wrinkled her nose. “Trust me, this is not for everyone.”

“Here goes.” She took a sip and her face seemed to scrunch up in disgust.

“Do you want me to take it?” he asked.

She shook her head. “It’s fine. I’ll drink it.”

He chuckled.

They sat back, and for several minutes, they didn’t speak. He watched her sip her drink. She had pulled her hair over one shoulder, exposing her neck. All he wanted to do was kiss that delicate line of her neck. To pull her against him. The clothes she wore were way too big, but then, they belonged to him. She had shoved the shirt inside the sweatpants, and it was tight across her tits.

“You know, there is so much I haven’t done in a long time. Drinking, listening to music, dancing—”

“Dancing?” he asked, cutting her off.

“You know, going out to a nightclub, dancing with girlfriends, or with a boyfriend?”

“Is there a boyfriend back home?” he asked.

She laughed. “No, remember, just work. Unless work can be deemed a boyfriend. What about you?”

“Sweetheart, if I had a woman, you’d have seen her already.”

He finished off his whiskey and got to his feet. “I can’t give you a nightclub, but I can dance with you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she said.

“I insist. I won’t hurt or bite.” He wanted to add “unless you want me to,” but he didn’t think she’d appreciate that. So, he kept those words to himself. And waited.

She took a sip of the whiskey, wrinkled her nose, and put the glass down on the table beside her chair. She placed her hand in his, and he helped her up, drawing her closer. He put a hand on her back, then took hold of her other within his own, closing the distance between them. She felt perfect in his arms.

He’d always been addicted to the scent of vanilla and Josie smelled exactly like that. His cock was already starting to harden, and he hoped he wouldn’t fuck this up.

Chapter Four

Elijah had thick muscles. She never usually recognized a man by his size, but he surrounded her. His arms touching her, helped her to feel warm, safe, sexy. She had already caught sight of the ink on his arms, and knew from his confessions that he had a wild life before he settled down.

The soft music filled the air and she tilted her head back to look at him. Why did his lips have to look so inviting? She wanted to know what they felt like, how they would feel brushing against her own lips. They’d feel good, she knew that.

The hand at her back drifted down, going toward the curve of her ass. She stared up at him, waiting. Did he feel this? Her nipples were hard and her pussy wet. She stepped a little closer to him. This wasn’t inappropriate, was it? With her hand on his chest, she couldn’t help but look at his lips, so inviting.