Valentine Next Door (3 page)

She nodded, turning to face him fully, shifting her focus to him completely. She twisted into the couch cushions and slid her stockinged feet beneath her.

“I slipped on a pile of rhino dung.”

She chuckled, slapping her hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. She couldn’t help it. The image of him sliding backward in a giant pile of poop was too funny not to laugh.

“Hey,” he yelled, although his face didn’t hold any true anger. Instead, he smiled with her. “You promised not to laugh.”

“You’re right.” She snorted, placing the glass of wine down on the coffee table before she spilled it all over the floor. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting a story like that.” She wiped at a bit of moisture gathering along her eyelashes. “How exactly does one break his leg by stepping in rhino dung?”

He smirked, bringing the wine glass to his lips then taking a sip. “I was trying to take a picture of a momma rhino and her calf cuddling. People love pictures of animal mothers and babies, especially exotic ones. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was walking. I stepped backward, slipped on the pile, and my leg ended up underneath me bent the wrong way.”

She erupted in another fit of chuckles. “I’m sorry.” She brushed the tears back. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had such a good laugh.”

She reached out, touching his arm without even a thought. He glanced down, staring at where her skin met his. Then his gaze traveled back up to hers. For a second they just stared at each other. Arcs of heat passed between them, and her stomach fluttered. His skin was warm and soft beneath her touch, and oh so tantalizing.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I don’t mind too much.”

His chocolate-brown eyes were so deep and sweet, she almost believed she could drown in them. And what a way to go.

His lips hovered close enough she could nearly feel them on her skin, the soft stroke against her mouth, his tongue caressing hers. It had been so long since she’d been kissed. So long since anyone had looked at her with as much heat and lust as Jeremy was now.

Not since Leo. Not since her dead husband.

She pulled her hand back, breaking their connection. She stood on dangerous ground. She could feel it. Somehow she had to bring the conversation back to a safer topic. Much safer. “At least you got to travel to some exciting places. Your mom showed me a bunch of your pictures. They’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

He took a sip of his wine, his focus still pinned on her, filling her with an unusual heat. He never looked away. It both excited and scared her.

“I’ve been very lucky.” He tossed it off as though it were nothing.

She knew from all his mother’s stories that he worked hard for the career he had. But she let him have his modesty.

“It must be so much fun to travel, to see all these exotic places and people. To experience so much of the world.” She took a drink of wine, directing her attention out of the window, even as the temptation to turn toward him battered at her periphery vision. “I’ve always wanted to travel.” Instead, she’d followed the safe path. She’d gotten married to her high school sweetheart and settled into a job at the quiet library where she’d spent most of her high school days.

“I thought you traveled every day at the library.”

Miranda smiled. “So you believed those posters?” On the wall above the check-in desk, several old posters were hung there showing children stepping out of books into exotic adventures, fighting dragons, riding unicorns or joining a boat full of swashbuckling pirates. They were chichi but cute.

“Well, I saw them enough. They’re imprinted on my mind.”

“You did spend a lot of time at the library.” She’d always liked it when Jeremy stopped in between his classes or after school. He’d always been so sweet and interested. So few of the other boys who wandered in and out of her sanctuary cared about learning. They were too consumed with sports and sex to give books a second thought.

He nodded. “You’re half the reason I became a photographer.”

That got her attention. She snapped her focus back to his face.

“I used to spend hours in the library, combing over those photography books in the back row. Ansel Adams, William Henry Jackson, Eliot Porter, Arthur Morris.”

“Those great artists inspired you, not me.” Miranda shifted her feet beneath her, unsettled by the direction this conversation had taken.

He smiled, and she could feel herself slipping again, falling into those deep, adorable eyes.

“Why do you think I was in the library looking at those books so much?”

“I have no idea.” Honestly, she’d never thought about it.

“I only came to the library so often to be near you. The photography books were right next to your desk.”

She shook her head, sure he must be saying all this to be nice. He’d always been considerate. There was no way he’d spent his time trying to be near her back then, instead of girls his own age. “I can’t imagine any of you boys even noticing me.” Sure she’d gotten some attention when she’d been in high school, but she’d already been with Leo then, and she hadn’t been daring enough to try her luck with another guy. Leo had always been nice, kind, attentive. What more could she expect?

“Are you kidding? Every guy in school had a crush on you. They all used to be jealous that I lived next door to you.”

“Really?”

He flashed her the same devilish grin he’d used as a teen to get away with accidentally backing over Mrs Slater’s tulips. “Ryan Mason drove me to school every day just to try and catch a glimpse of you getting ready in the morning.”

Miranda swallowed harder. She’d had no idea the students thought about her that way. She should feel objectified, used, but instead, all she felt was attractive, desirable.

“Rides in Ryan’s Jag must have been nice. I guess it worked out for you.” She smiled, joking, but he didn’t respond in kind.

His eyes darkened. Lust shimmered through his gaze, heating her from the inside out. A traitorous ache throbbed between her legs. She clamped her hand down on her thigh. She battled down the inappropriate idea to reach out and smooth her fingers along Jeremy’s square jaw line, to rub her knuckles across his lips to see how soft they were.

As though sensing her thoughts, he dropped his gaze to her lips, and her stomach fluttered. Her mouth felt dry, but she stopped herself a second before she licked her lips. The corner of Jeremy’s mouth turned up, as though he knew what she’d almost done.

“You have no idea.” His voice was deep, husky with need.

Jeremy leaned over her, close enough she could see the flecks of gold and green in his eyes. So bright, just like Jeremy. He was going to kiss her. She could feel it in the way he looked at her, at the motions of his lips, the grip of his hands along the couch.

She should stop him. It was the right thing to do. But she couldn’t force herself to push him away. Not when she wanted his kiss as much as her next breath. It might be wrong, it might be crazy, but she wanted Jeremy Callahan.

He brushed the hair back from her face, twirling it behind her ear. He wrapped his hand around her neck, strumming his thumb against her jaw. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Then his mouth was on hers. His lips tasted like the crisp wine and a hint of something deeper and masculine. A taste she could easily become addicted to.

His kiss was soft at first. His lips gently prodded hers, as though he was testing her willingness to accept him. He cupped his hands around her face, his touch comforting, not pushing her too far or too fast.

When she opened just a little to accept him, he took full advantage. His tongue slipped into her mouth, roving the inside of her lips and along her teeth, finding her tongue then moving with it. He let his hand roam along her curves as he kissed her so deeply she could feel it to her toes.

Sensations bombarded her, exploding along her nerve endings and vibrating across her skin. Heat erupted in her stomach, arrowing down to the junction of her thighs. She let out a small moan, and he reacted in kind. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had kissed her this well, this thoroughly, and damn it, she’d missed it.

In response to her moan, he leaned further over her. He pushed his good leg between her knees, balancing his weight on his cast and the couch. She opened her legs, inviting him to explore. He groaned against her lips, the sound coiling in the base of her stomach. She arched into him, pressing her pussy into his thick, hard thigh. Her breasts rubbed across his chest, sending little zings of pleasure through her whole body.

“God, you’re amazing,” he whispered between deep breaths. His lips were swollen from her kisses.

“Thank you.” She placed quick kisses along his jaw and throat. She was a woman possessed. A switch had been thrown inside her. She no longer had any control over her actions.

His body crushed against hers was all that mattered. Not that she’d watched Jeremy grow up next door, or that his mother still stopped by for coffee every Saturday afternoon.

“Do you want to take this to the bedroom?”

She paused for a second, staring up at him. His chest rose and fell with his labored breath. Her body shook, her heart pounding faster. She should tell him no. There was still a part of her that knew right from wrong and that she should turn him away. But it was a very small part of her brain, compared to the rest of her that wanted to see, touch and feel Jeremy’s naked body next to hers.

Instead, she nodded.

Chapter Three

Jeremy couldn’t believe what was happening. He was touching Mrs Valentine, kissing Mrs Valentine. God, she tasted so good. She felt even better. He’d dreamed of this day for years, never thinking it would actually happen. But here he was with Miranda in his arms, and he didn’t plan to let her go.

Even with his injured limb, he easily hauled her up from the couch. He kissed her deeply, probing her mouth with his tongue and sliding it along with hers. Her taste was rich and sinful like her mocha fudge cake. He explored more of her body—her back, her spine, her ass.

Throughout his exploration, he walked her backward, maneuvering their way to her bedroom. He knew the layout of her house. He’d helped her out with chores when he was younger. He’d house sat for her once when she and her husband had gone on a Caribbean vacation. Spending his spring break picking up mail and watering plants now seemed like an excellent use of time.

He held her tightly, walking her through the bedroom door he never thought he’d darken, at least not with the purpose of getting Mrs Valentine naked and exploring every curve of her luscious body.

She twisted her arms around him then tugged their bodies together. With each of her deep breaths, her breasts brushed against his chest. Each touch sent electricity through his body. Her weight in his arms put extra pressure on his leg, and a shooting pain echoed up from the calf where the plaster cast kept his limb immobile. But he didn’t care. Nothing mattered, not pain, not time, and certainly not his injury. Just her. Just the sensation of their bodies moving together.

“You’re trying to kill me, Miranda, aren’t you?” He groaned, setting her down and leaning his forehead to hers as they both caught their breaths. Her exotic lily scent wafted to him, complete with a musky edge he hoped was her arousal. He’d find out for sure very soon.

She peeked up at him, her bright blue eyes affecting him like a slam to the chest and making his heart beat faster. Her thick, black lashes fluttered inches from his face.

“You called me Miranda.” She smiled.

He hadn’t even realized he’d done it, but with the way she grinned at him, he wished he’d done it before.

“Say it again.”

He pushed the hair back from her face, cupping her cheeks in his hands. She always looked small from afar, tiny, petite and so sweet. But until he’d touched her, he’d never realized how slight she was, how breakable.

“I want you, Miranda. I want you so bad I hurt.”

Her eyes widened at his admission, but she didn’t reject him. She just stood there blinking up at him. Her full pouty lips parted a fraction. Her pink tongue licked the edge of her mouth.

He groaned at the sight. She had such a sexy mouth. How he’d love to feel her lips on his body, that wicked tongue along his dick. At the thought, his balls tightened and his cock thickened a bit more.

“I want you too,” she whispered.

Her voice was so low and breathy he almost didn’t hear her.

She reached up, wrapping her hand around his cheek. The touch was so soft his knees almost buckled. She traced her tiny fingers across his cheek then down his neck. His skin tingled beneath her touch.

He took a deep breath as her lips found their way to his throat. Her delicate kisses danced along his jaw. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. God, her skin felt so good against his. Warm, soft, amazing.

He tugged her closer, rubbing his groin against her leg as she sucked on his neck. She was so tiny and perfect in his arms. Just the right height to touch every tempting recess of her body. Small enough he could pick her up and toss her around, pushing her into the right position, no matter where they were or what he wanted to do to her.

He slid his hand down her chest. He covered her breasts with his palm, cupping her tits through her shirt in his shaking fingers. She was soft and pert, filling his hands wonderfully. How many times had he fantasized about these breasts, holding them, licking them, kissing them? And now he was here, close enough to do everything he wanted.

She moaned, rising up on her tiptoes to touch more of him. She fisted her hands in his shirt, using the grip to stabilize herself. She pulled at his ear, sucking the lobe into her mouth and Jeremy groaned.

“I want to see more of you.” Her breath brushed his ear. Her pointed nipples pressed into his skin.

Blood rushed downward. His brain fuzzed over, his thoughts too muddled to think of anything beyond Miranda, her warm body, her sweet, flowery scent and the limited layers of cloth that separated them.

He picked her up by the waist and tossed her down on the mattress with enough force that she bounced. If she wanted him bare, he had no problem with that. Especially since he would undress her right after he finished his own striptease.