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Which is hard because silly slippers aside, she’s a sexy little thing. She reminds me of one of those fancy cupcakes with the too-sweet frosting that makes my teeth ache. The kind that despite the ache I can’t help from gorging on a few when I’m given the chance.
When she gets her breathing under control, she rises, and I miss the delectable view. Her slim nose crinkles and her pink lips pucker up while she takes a shuffling step back. My grin widens. No doubt she’s getting a whiff of the mostly full hopper. This rich development is second to last on my route, so things are quite ripe at this point.
Bad news princess, trash is a part of life. Even a privileged one like yours. Just like shit happens, so does trash.
“Thank you so much for stopping. I almost missed you.” Flashing a bright smile, she thrusts the white plastic bag dangling from her fingers at me and the cloying scent of citrus comes with it.
It’s scented. Somehow, I expected nothing less.
Lifting a brow, I make no move to take the bag, keeping my hands relaxed at my sides even while my heart picks up at the sound of her voice. It’s small and sweet, like everything else about her. She really is a freaking cupcake.
“You could have waited for next week. Or I dunno, tossed it away at work or somewhere else along your way.” My grin widens as her perfectly arched eyebrows furrow and her tiny snub of a nose scrunches up. Fucking adorable.
If she were on the menu, I would gobble her up in one bite.
Her little pink tongue sneaks out and makes a quick pass along her lower lip. I can’t help following its progress, my cock giving another interested twitch as her tongue disappears. “I didn’t even think of that.”
Chuckling, I finally reach out and take the small bag from her. “No worries. Just something to remember next time. Much easier than chasing down the garbage truck in your pajamas.” I can’t help tacking that last part on.
Except she doesn’t blush or seem at all embarrassed. Instead, she gives me a wide smile that could easily bring a lesser man to his knees.
“Thanks again. Have a great day.” With a jaunty wave goodbye, she takes off.
In disbelief, I watch her jog across a lawn that most definitely doesn’t belong to her and dart into a wall of fifteen-foot-high hedges. When the last bit of pink vanishes, and I’m left grinning after her like a dope with her trash still in my hand, the spell over me finally breaks.
Shaking my head, I backtrack to the truck and press the button opening the hopper. I toss her small bag up into it and then climb back into the truck to finish my route.
Except I can’t stop my thoughts from returning to her.
Naturally, I remember that curvy little body when I’m in the shower scrubbing the day’s filth off me. I don’t even bother stopping my soapy hand from stroking my cock. And the groan of pleasure that bursts forth from between my gritted teeth when I spray cum all over the shower wall doesn’t feel wrong.
Though it feels incomplete. Like it would have been more satisfying if I could have bellowed her name while coming.
Rinsing off, I thought that would be the end of things. Yet that evening, sitting at the cramped little desk in the second bedroom and paying my bills, she comes to mind again. And again, later, when I’m stretched out on my couch watching a hockey game, I can’t get the memory of that smile out of my head.
It's been a while since I’ve been so hung up on a woman, probably since back when I was a stupid teenager. A teenager that had a hell of a lot more to offer a woman than I do now.
Fuck!
Plowing my hands through my dark hair, I give the short strands a vicious twist, hoping the pain will bring me to my senses.
Why am I so caught up on a little rich girl that probably didn’t even really see me when she was tossing her trash at me? I could pick her out of a lineup of a dozen other blondes, but I bet she could walk right past without recognizing me.
Been too long since I was laid last. Time to change that. Grabbing my phone, I text Tom.
Jake: Drinks and pool, Friday?
Tom: Ready to lose again? You’re on.
I don’t bother replying to that. I whipped his ass last time we played pool and I’ll do it again.
CHAPTER TWO
SAVANNAH
“And then I raced after the trash truck in my pajamas!”
Blaire, my best friend and fellow fundraising coordinator, squeals, and slaps both hands over her mouth, casting a guilty look over her shoulder to make sure we’re still alone. “You didn’t!”
