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The slow, sensual curl of his full lips has me gasping for air. And self-control.
“That’s a lot to unpack there, Miss Garland! Which part do you want me to answer first?”
“Any one of them as long as that dog doesn’t bark all night tomorrow night! Because if I don’t get some damn sleep tomorrow, I’m gonna hunt your ass down and throttle you!”
A laugh bursts out of him. “I can’t make any promises, G. I’m crate training him. And he doesn’t like it a bit. But since he’s already eaten two pairs of shoes and so many damn pillows that I can’t even count them, he’s just going to have to live with it.” His eyes meet mine. “I guess you are too, G. Sorry but I’m running out of shoes. And pillows. And countless other things he’s teething on.”
“Poor baby.” For just a second my sensitive heart jumps in my chest. That poor little dog.
“Wait. You can’t leave him in a crate all day. That’s just mean!”
“I’m not.” He leans his back into the door and crosses his arms over his chest, coffee sloshing over onto his shirt and he hisses. “Dammit! Listen, I’ve got to go and change my shirt now. But I’ll be back at lunchtime after the rain’s come through this morning and let him out into the yard. That’s the best I can do. I can’t promise more than that. Hopefully he settles down soon.” His eyes dance wickedly and I feel that traitorous tug in my lower belly again. “I’d hate to interrupt your beauty sleep with the dog.” His hot eyes slither down my body and I shiver everywhere they touch. “Not that you need beauty sleep, G. But if you have to get your sleep interrupted, I wish it’d be for something more fun than a dog barking.”
I hiss out a startled breath. “You are an absolute neanderthal! I don’t know why I bother talking to you.”
“Probably just can’t get enough of my gorgeous face.”
My mouth drops open and I gasp. “You are disgusting. Have a good day, Mr. Gray.” I turn to stomp away. “And stop calling me G!”
“Okay, Garland! And I’ve asked you to call me Marcus! We are neighbors, you know!”
Growling under my breath, I stomp over to my own house. “No way in hell am I calling him Marcus! I cannot even believe the nerve of that man!”
“Nice seeing you again, Garland! I have to go change my shirt. Unless you want to come watch!”
“Grrr!” I slam the door of my house and fall back against it. Screaming like a wild woman, I grit my teeth and then glance down, groaning even more. My light t-shirt and boxer shorts are perfectly comfortable to sleep in but my nipples are puckered up and clearly visible under the pale t-shirt.
“I swear that man is going to drive me to drink.” But now that I’m back in the house, I just want to run and head back to bed, put my head under the covers and pray that Marcus the deviant didn’t notice.
I’d bet money he did though. That man is too observant for my own good.
Too observant, too sexy and too distracting.
All of that spells nothing but trouble for the sake of my sanity. And my panties.
CHAPTER FOUR
MARCUS
Itake my lunch on a bench sitting across from the library. It’s not at my shop but I like to get the occasional view of Miss Garland leaving the library for lunch. I also like to sit and picture her in the air-conditioned quiet of the library, her prim figure all buttoned up in one of those little dresses with the flippy skirts. Or maybe a silky blouse that caresses her full breasts like a lover’s hands paired with a skirt that clings to her plush hips all the way down to her knees like a fifties secretary. With her long brown hair up in a sexy little bun and a pair of dark-framed glasses she’s every damn librarian fantasy come to life.
I take a big bite of my cold meat sandwich, my heart racing and hunger rising like a beast inside my body.
The door opens and I sit up like a bird dog on the hunt. A slow smile curls my lips when I see her step one foot outside the door, the little pump with the perfect height heel on it setting down on the concrete step with a tiny little click. The woman probably weighs a hundred pounds less than me soaking wet. She’s at least a foot shorter than me and when I see her, the urge to protect her keeps pushing me hard.
I need to protect her, hold her close and keep her safe. At the same time, lust surges in my chest and my cock gets hard as hell just seeing her. Whenever I’m close to her and I smell that slightly sweet, slightly spicy floral scent that I associate with her, my dick gets hard and I have to fight the urge to grab her, throw her over my shoulder like a neanderthal taking home my kill. She brings out the baser instincts inside of me without even trying.
And she’s wearing one of her tight, knee-length skirts and a silky blouse in a gorgeous gold color that lights up her golden skin and brightens the golden glints in her brown hair. She looks like the sun, like something that if you get too close to it, it can burn you, knock you around and bring you to your knees.
I’d gladly go to my knees if I could push my face into her pussy.
I chuckle under my breath when she looks up, the glare off her glasses from the sun keeping me from seeing how her eyes look. I don’t need to see her stunning green eyes to know that she’s pissed. Her shoulders go up and her back stiffens.
She stomps across to me and as she gets close enough, I can see the gorgeous sea-glass green of her eyes. See her dark brows knitted over the tumultuous glare and it makes me smile. I sit up straight and set my sandwich aside, needing to keep my hands free for the fight. Like I’m a damn boxer fixing to go in the ring.
“What the hell are you doing out here, Mr. Gray?” She snarls like a mountain lion and my dick jerks in my work pants like a dog after a bone.
A gorgeous, sexy bone that is begging for me. I want it all with her. I want to wife her up, fuck her until she can’t walk and plant my babies in her belly. Tattoo my brand on her apple bottom and make sure that every asshole in this town knows who she belongs to. Knows that if they even speak to her, I’m going to make sure that they pay. Consequences be damned. I want to own her heart, her soul, her gorgeous fucking body until death do us part.
