The Guy Next Door - By Lori Foster, S Donovan, V Dahl Page 0,3
a single word.
Afterward, as she’d tried to figure out what to do or say, he’d smiled at her, a smile of triumph, of confidence and cocky attitude.
Uncensored gratitude had left her bemused. She hadn’t known sex could be so satisfying, or so consuming, and she’d spoken without really thinking it through. “That was…” She’d had no adequate words, so she settled on, “Thank you.”
His smile slipped into a grin. “Anytime.”
She’d been surprised and inexperienced enough to say, “Really?”
“Oh, yeah.” His gaze went molten as he looked her over, making it clear that he liked what he saw. “All you gotta do is knock.”
Natalie had taken him at his word, and from there they’d fallen into an unbelievable routine that was both scintillating and simple.
The first time she’d knocked at his door, feeling very tentative, alternate excuses at the ready, he’d answered a mere second later. His look of expectation had sharpened to satisfaction then quickly turned to lust. With that dark gaze devouring her, her worry dissipated as if it had never been.
After that, it got easier. And now, when she wanted him, she had no issue at all going to his door to let him know.
No, that wasn’t entirely true, because she always wanted him. Minutes after she left him, she ached for him again.
Trying to keep her obsession with Jett under wraps wasn’t easy, so at least three times a week she went to him. The rest of the time she lectured herself on moderation, on keeping things uncomplicated. If she pressed him, if she took up too much of his time, he’d grow tired of their uncomplicated arrangement.
But Natalie relished the lack of expectations. There were no awkward dates for her to flub or conflicting opinions to put them at odds or, God forbid, any uncertainty about his intentions.
So far, Jett had been very accommodating. Of course, one of these days he’d have other plans. Or not be home when she knocked. Or… She gulped.
One day he’d find someone else, someone important to him who wouldn’t appreciate him having a no-strings affair with his neighbor across the hall.
But not yet.
Not today.
Natalie was sorting through her feelings about the indistinct future when Jett opened his door.
Her breath caught. Forget the future; she wanted to concentrate only on the here and now.
Wearing nothing more than a damp towel and his wet hair uncombed, Jett’s dark-eyed gaze burned in a look she recognized only too well. He stood with his feet apart, one hand on the doorknob, the other on the frame above his head. The towel parted over one muscular thigh, showing an old scar, almost like a gunshot wound, on his right leg.
So many times Natalie had wanted to ask him about that scar. How had he gotten it, when.
Why?
She had no idea what Jett did for a living; she didn’t know anyone who’d been shot.
It’d be so easy to ask him…but she knew she shouldn’t. If she asked questions, it left him open to do the same. Eventually he’d find out that her father was ridiculously wealthy and well respected in the business world. He’d find out that she and her sister had been effectively disowned.
And he’d find out about her mother.
Her chest tightened with the thought. No, she didn’t want that.
The effortlessness of their straightforward sexual relationship was too enjoyable to modify it with idle curiosity.
Shaking off all other concerns, Natalie stepped toward Jett. As if her movement broke a spell, Jett dropped his arms around her and drew her in close, taking her mouth in a hungry, devouring kiss. Still with his mouth on hers, he lifted her inside and kicked the door shut.
Wow. Today he rushed things, and she loved it.
In two steps Jett had her pressed to the wall in full-body contact, his big hands framing her face while he ate at her mouth with an all-consuming kiss. His tongue moved over hers as he adjusted his hold, turning his head for a better fit.
He smelled fresh and hot, felt damp and strong. Whatever his occupation might be, Jett stayed in prime physical shape with admirable stamina. In appreciation, Natalie contracted her fingers over his chest muscles. He made a sound of pleasure and ground his erection against her belly.
After her quick shower, she’d changed into a casual, oversized sweatshirt with a wide neckline, and loose drawstring leisure pants. The clothes weren’t all that complimentary, but they were easy to remove, and she knew she wouldn’t be wearing them for long.
When Jett’s hand