Oh, sister. Interesting.
“Eves!” Celeste called into the house. “Come meet your new neighbor.” With a sly grin, she released Scott’s hand and continued on toward the big moving truck.
“Huh?” The woman in the ball cap, white tank top and dark green yoga pants popped her head around the corner, her eyes bright, smile stunning, and breasts … holy fuck! It was her!
Scott’s cock jerked, his heart lurched, and he nearly tripped where he stood.
Her recognition of him was nearly as instant, but she didn’t appear to be having the same kind of reaction.
“Eva!” he blurted out, taking a couple of steps toward her.
She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and glanced down at her black, slip-on tennis shoes. “Hi, Scott.”
“You’re my new neighbor?”
She still hadn’t looked at him. She toed at a rock on the driveway. “Looks that way, huh?”
“You never thought you’d see me again.” This was all too bizarre. He had to find out why she’d left him the way she had. Why she’d snuck out of her own hotel room without even a goodbye, let alone her number.
Then again, she had been rather clear about it just being one night. She hadn’t even given him her last name. She wanted to remain Just Eva. Had that been her plan all along? Sleep with him and then scram before the continental breakfast started?
“I … ” She lifted her gaze to his. “I just wanted one night for myself.”
Right. “And now … ”
She blinked and shook her head, a small, demure smile tugging at one corner of her lips. “And now you’re my neighbor, and the thought of popping over for a cup of sugar takes on an entirely new connotation.” That demure smile filled out and tilted the other corner of her lips. “It’s good to see you, Scott.”
He exhaled. Thank fuck. That could have gone in an entirely different direction, and he was so glad it didn’t. “It’s so good to see you, Eva.”
She eyed him beneath her ball cap. “You busy?”
For sex? Uh, no, he wasn’t busy. He had, however, just jerked off twice this morning to thoughts of her though. Once when he knew it was her, the second time to her ass when he didn’t know it was her.
He gave a quick mental check to his dick, twitched it and thought about boobs. It moved. He was good to go.
Phew.
With a smile he knew made the ladies swoon, he stepped toward her and tucked his finger beneath her chin. “For you, never.”
She bit her lip and tilted her head up, gazing at him with a look that had filled his dreams and fantasies for the past six weeks. She reached out and wrapped a hand around his bicep, squeezing. He flexed, and her green eyes flared. “Do you wanna … ”
Fuck, he was practically salivating now. Panting like a dog staring at a ribeye left on the counter to rest.
“Absolutely.”
She squeezed his bicep again. “Awesome, thank you. We can really use the extra set of hands. Boxes are labeled, but anything that isn’t labeled can just go in the garage.” Then she released his arm and skipped—yes, skipped—off toward the moving truck.
Scott’s mouth dropped open, and he whipped around to gape at her. “You played me!”
She spun around but continued to walk backward, an enormous, gorgeous grin on her face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Then she ducked into the moving truck, leaving Scott standing there in the driveway with a big, stupid smile on his face and a feeling he hadn’t felt in a very long time heating up in his heart.
How the hell was it even possible?
He was hotter than when she’d met him six weeks ago. Sexier. More doablse than ever. And boy, oh boy, did she want to do him—again.
And again, and again, and again.
Unable to put her finger on it—though she really wanted to—Eva stared at the sexy line of Scott’s beard-covered throat as he tipped back his mug of wine and took a long sip, a half-eaten slice of pizza in his other hand, poised in midair.
Pizza and wine in mugs—it seemed to be a recurring thing between them, if you could call doing something twice recurring.
His bicep flexed as he lifted his arm to take a bite of his pizza, and she was forced to bear down hard and repress her sudden urge to moan.
Had he been beefing up at the gym over the last few weeks? Was that it? He seemed bigger. More toned and bulked. She’d certainly caught herself more than once gawking at his muscles as he unloaded boxes and furniture all afternoon. And then when he got to work assembling her sons’ beds and the cords in his forearms stood out, she nearly had an orgasm on the spot.
Whatever it was, be it bigger muscles, a fuller beard, shinier hair or just the fact that she’d missed him these last six weeks, Scott was one fine-looking man.
The movers were long gone, and Celeste had gone home to check on her fourteen-year-old daughter Sabrina, who’d been watching Lucas and Kellen all day. But Scott had stuck around. Apparently, he didn’t get his son until Monday evening, so he “had all the time in the world” to help Eva unpack and assemble furniture.
They were sitting on her couch in the living room, surrounded by boxes, with all the lights on, the radio playing and a bottle of wine and box of pizza between them. She had no clue where her wineglasses were, so after opening a box marked kitchen and finding two Christmas mugs, she opened the bottle of wine she’d received from a client for doing their wedding makeup and poured them each a mug.
“So,” Scott started, checking her out over the rim of his mug, “you going to tell me why you did a wham, bam, thank you, sir? Was it not good and you couldn’t bring yourself to face me in the morning?” A sexy smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth.
Oh, he knew damn well that it had been good. Fuck, it’d been ten million times better than good. It’d been riveting. Earth-shattering, soul-claiming. Sex with Scott in that one night surpassed any and every other sexual experience she’d ever had. He had literally ruined her for any and all other men, and she’d spent the last six weeks kicking herself profusely for bailing on him without getting his number—or at the very least his last name.
“Hmm, Just Eva. Was it not up to your expectations?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, okay? I just … like I said, I just wanted one night for myself, and I thought that maybe it would be awkward in the morning.”
He pursed his lips in an attempt not to smirk. “Or it could have been an incredible morning. Wink, wink.” He smiled that sinfully sexy smile that had won her over, that had made her strip naked and let him come all over her chest—and face.
“And it probably would have been. I’m sorry if I made you feel used. If I made you feel like a piece of meat.”
And she was sorry. Sorry that she’d tortured herself with the memories of his tongue, fingers and cock this past month and a half rather than have access to the real things. One of her kids usually ended up in her bed in the middle of the night, so she couldn’t even take matters into her own hands to satisfy the craving. She was dying here staring at the real deal, knowing all he was capable of.
But he didn’t seem too put out and shrugged. “As long as you haven’t suddenly become a vegan, I don’t mind being treated like a piece of meat.” His dark brown gaze turned avid and his smile diabolical. “But I’m no flank steak. I’m a porterhouse, woman. Prime cut. Top choice. Straight from the plains of Texas.” Then he mooed low and long before snorting like a bull and stomping his foot on the hardwood.