Quick Study - By Gretchen Galway Page 0,6
surprised coworkers said he did, but he wasn’t always convinced. Past the piercings and Haight Street haircut, he glimpsed the guy he used to be.
His confused reflection swung away to reveal Bonnie standing in the doorway in a tight white t-shirt and low-slung jeans, her wavy hair down about her shoulders in a dark, messy cloud that made his breath catch.
“Thanks for coming out,” he said.
She nodded but didn’t open the security gate. “Listen, I needed to explain—”
“You don’t have to. My sister told me. You’re the boy’s neighbor.”
She paused, mouth slightly open, and then nodded again. “I tried to tell you—” She glanced down. “Well. OK, then. Bye.” She started to turn.
“Wait!” Paul pressed his palms against the grate. “Hold on.”
She shook her head, took a step back.
He sensed her nerves, but she was lingering, waiting for him to reassure her. “Just coffee. Please.”
She bit her lip. “I don’t think so.”
“But why?” He let his forehead bump against the gate and gave her the most charming lopsided grin he had. “Look, I’m really sorry I ran out like that. I should have given you a chance to explain.” He hoped he didn’t sound desperate, but he really liked her. He stepped away from the gate and struck an unaggressive pose, fingers stuck into the tight front pockets of his jeans. “Please let me buy you that coffee. One cup. Just to clear the air.”
She glanced behind her, hesitated, turned back. “I only have an hour.”
A surge of desire washed through him. He propped his forearm against the gate and smiled at her through the bars. “Great. Thank you.”
“I’ll be right back.” She disappeared into the gloomy hallway, returning moments later with a purse over her shoulder. She swung the gate open and marched ahead of him. “There’s more you should know.”
He lifted his gaze from the sway of her ass. It was even sexier than he remembered, as high as it was wide, and from the way she wore her jeans low and tight, she had to know she had something good. He wanted to see the tattoo again. Touch it. Lick it. But her words cut through the fog of lust. “More?” He inhaled deeply, forced himself to concentrate. “You’re married?”
She snorted. “Now you ask.”
He deserved that. “Kids?”
“Would you leave me alone if I did have one?”
He swallowed. Formative years of geekdom had left scars, and no matter how devoted he was with a naked woman, his romantic confidence at the onset didn’t match his looks. No matter how pleasantly surprised women were when they finally got in bed with him, he questioned his ability to get there with someone new.
He sighed. “Of course,” he said. “If you wanted me to.”
Her scowl softened into confusion. “What’s up with you, anyway?”
“I like you. I can’t stop thinking about you. But I don’t know you, and I want to.”
She continued to stare, there on the sidewalk with the winter California sun shining low and bright over her face, illuminating the golden flecks in her eyes. He realized that she had stepped closer to him, or him to her, and he could imagine the heat coming off her body. Her face didn’t look angry anymore, but it wasn’t smiling. Deep in his chest, his heart strained and began to pound.
“Touch me,” she said.
Two words, and he was hard. Just as he had in his dream, he reached up and brushed a corkscrew of hair off her cheek, aching at the silky perfection of her skin under his fingertip. Her mouth, that pink and inviting mouth falling open. He rubbed her full bottom lip with his thumb, back and forth, vaguely aware that his lungs were empty.
“I don’t have any children,” she said, closing her eyes. “And I’m not married.”
He managed a half-smile, letting his head sink down until his mouth was so close he could taste her breath. Smelling something sweet, like candy, on her lips. Gloss. Wet, shining lips. “Me neither.”
He licked. From the left, shadowy corner of her mouth, along the swell of her lower lip, grazing her teeth, then over to the other corner, where he lingered until he felt her hands come up behind his neck, burrow into his hair, and pull him closer.
They hadn’t kissed before, not on the lips, not with hungry, wet mouths wanting each other. Personal, real.
A car drove past and she jerked away. “God,” she said. “We’re on the street.”
“Sorry.” He cupped her cheek with his hand and nuzzled the hollow below