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She throws her head back and laughs and my eyes drift down to her golden hair falling down her back in soft curls. My fingers curl into my palms and I grit my teeth, fighting to keep them by my side. I desperately want to touch that fall of gold and see if it’s as soft as it looks. See how it looks wrapped around my fist while I plunder her lips like she’s a damn dessert that I know I shouldn’t have but I can’t stop myself from binging on.
“I’ll take that as a win, neanderthal. Tell your sister I said hi and if she’s got any questions about art to give me a call. I’m always happy to help a fellow art junkie.
“Yeah. I’ll be sure and do that. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to her?”
Her smirk grows until she has the most smug look on her face that I’ve ever seen. “I’m sure after spending time with you, she needs a few minutes to get herself together and stop screaming at the walls.”
“You’ve got a pretty low opinion of me, princess.”
“Low would have to look down to find my opinion of you, neanderthal. Have a good night and try not to be so hard on your sister. She seems like she’s hurting.”
And then she walks away and into the night and I yell after her, “Surely you didn’t walk here after dark, princess! That’s fucking dangerous!”
Her soft laughter in the dark makes my dick jump to attention and my teeth grind against each other. “This isn’t the big city! I’m perfectly safe walking around here at any time of the day and night.”
I have to fight the urge to follow her home. I can’t leave Heather alone here tonight after fighting with her. Fuck knows what she’d do!
But I have to curl my fingers into the wood to keep from chasing after her and I don’t close that door for a long time, even after the sound of her footsteps in the night taper off and I can’t hear or see her anymore.
I finally close the door when I shiver at the cool, night air.What the fuck’s wrong with me? I don’t act like this with other women. Why the hell does that little blond terror bring out the best and the worst in me at the same time?
I drop down onto the couch and grab my beer, putting a late-night hockey game on and struggling to focus on the game. The Tacoma Twisters are my team and I wish I could focus but all I think about is the damn golden-haired pixie with the sassy mouth that makes me want to kiss it clean.
And considering my situation with my sister, that just cannot happen right now. I’ve got too much going on to mess around with the golden terror.
But when I’m lying in bed later, all I can think about is her soft laugh, the bright blue sparks in her eyes and the curvy little body that I’m starting to crave like a starving man craves steak.
Keep your head, asshole! You can’t do this! Your life is a shit show right now. You can’t drag anyone else into it. It’s not right.
Too bad my dick is so hard I could pound nails with it. That fucker thinks he’s found his home and he’s not going to let this shit go.
All I need to do is stay away from the little pistol and all these fucking feelings will go away. Right?
I have a bad feeling that all my troubles are just getting started though. A really bad, creepy, delicious feeling. One that keeps me awake and hard half the damn night. The other half I’m dreaming the most decadent, dangerous and sexy dreams about the golden menace and waking to a dick that’s even harder than when I went to sleep.
I growl and roll over, my dick jerking to attention at just the thought of the woman that I can’t stop thinking about.
I wish to fuck I knew her name. I’ll find that out next time. Because I don’t think that’s going to be my last interaction with the blond bombshell.
It can’t be.
CHAPTER4
Daffy
It’s been just over a week since I first met the sexy, grumpy hottie at my store but I can’t stop thinking about him and I’ve had several dreams with some crazy sexy times in them that left me awake and gasping for breath, my clit throbbing with desire.
Thank heaven I haven’t seen him because he might see the want in my eyes. I need to get myself under control because the last thing I need is some man who sees me as crazy as my family does. Less than they are. It hurts but I’ve put all those thoughts aside and made my little pottery art studio into something I can be proud of even if they can’t.
Saturday morning I get up early and head in to my shop since I have a morning wine and art class. We’re doing some easy canvases although the alcohol does make for some interesting interpretations of the pictures. It also makes the inhibitions relax and the art move more freely for some people.
But as soon as I walk in the door, I know there’s a problem. The lights don’t turn on and no matter how many times I flip it, nothing happens.
I groan and smack my head into the wall, wincing when I hit myself a little too hard. I rub my head and crinkle my nose. I need a professional but it’s the weekend.
Then I think about the man who was in here last week. I now know his name and that he works for Wildwood Construction. For some reason, everybody in town was eager to gossip about them and about that ridiculous excuse for a calendar which was coming out soon.
My heart pounds and my mouth dries out when I think about seeing him again. I’ll just call Wildwood and see if they can recommend someone. Hopefully it’s not him because my damn body still hasn’t recovered from seeing him last weekend.
