Page 102 of (Not) The One
‘But only a coffee.’
‘What happens if I want tea?’ I turn back to her with a sly grin.
‘I’m about to rescind the invitation,’ she mutters as she turns to the passenger door herself.
The metal gate creaks as I push it wide, then follow Miranda along the overgrown garden path. It’s not exactly St Johns Wood or Notting Hill, but it’s hardly some dystopian enclave of London. Even if the whole of the house smells of wet dog, according to her.A rouse, more than likely.
I enjoy the sway of her backside as she climbs the stone steps, and I don’t hide that I’ve done so as she turns to face me. Our heads are practically at the same height. And though the nights are getting colder as autumn draws ever closer, I’m not sure the air is responsible for her shiver.
‘Was I coming in for a coffee, or did you change your mind?’ Again.
Did that sound like I’m trying too hard? Pushing my luck? Hopefully not.
‘I’m not supposed to have people in. I mean over,’ she quickly amends.
‘You’re such a diligent employee.’ She leans into my touch as I push a lock of hair from her face. ‘But you could be a rebel. Break your rules. Just for me.’
‘I’m not normally much of a rule breaker.’
‘Yes, you’re such a good girl.’
In the shade of a porch that’s little more than an overhang, I lean forward, her eyes in the streetlight a drop of black ink in a whisky glass. I trail the backs of my fingers along her jaw before I take hold of her chin and brush a glancing kiss against her tempting lips. I pull back a fraction before dipping my head again, these light kisses just a warmup before the main event. Light and soft turning to dark and hard, and as I kiss her a little deeper, she moans so sweetly, her fingers rising to clasp my lapels as we make out like a couple of lust-addled teenagers.
‘So kissing on the doorstep is allowed.’ Is it my kisses or my sultry taunt that makes her tremble?
‘I’m not sure,’ she rasps, tilting her head to the side as my lips travel along the column of her neck. In a sudden motion, she tugs me closer, perhaps hoping the darkness of the porch will shield us from view. The houses in this street are more suburban than city. The kind of place with nosy neighbours and kids hanging about on street corners. ‘But you’re not exactly in.’
At this, I pull back, my gaze intent on hers.
‘Peel aside a layer or two, and I could be.’
The way she looks at me, it’s as though I’m a guilty pleasure. Like the most indulgent chocolate morsel she’s just waiting for the right time to inhale.
One can but hope that’s the case.
‘I didn’t say thank you for earlier. For standing up for me.’
‘Don’t mention it. Mainly because he’s not worth it. I know what you want to do with the ring, but the truth is, as trite as it sounds, the best revenge is living well. It’s taking the love you poured into another and keeping it for yourself. To love yourself. Then someday, when you’re ready and when you least expect it, you’ll find someone you’ll entrust your love to. And he will love you in ways you’ve yet to imagine.’
Her hand lifts between us, alabaster in the moonlight. ‘You have the soul of a poet,’ she whispers, cupping my cheek.
‘I know. Unfortunately, he wants it back.’
‘And you have a voice that should do audio books,’ she adds, ignoring my ridiculousness.
‘Really raunchy ones. Full offucks.’ From ridiculousness to hard fricatives, her eyes widen, and my cock twitches. ‘But only for you.’
Her answer is in the motion of her feeding her hand into her purse, pulling out a key before proceeding to fumble with the lock.Is she nervous?I wonder as metal slides against metal for the second time. Maybe I can help, cover her hand with mine. Or maybe I should take my lips from her neck, or my hands from her hips, or my cock from the crevasse of her delectable arse.
A moment later, the metal connects, and the mechanism clicks.
She steps into the darkened hallway, and I follow.I’d probably follow her anywhere.From there, the momentum of the moment takes over, whisking us through a door and up some stairs.
‘Dog?’ I murmur against her kiss swollen lips. It’s not that I care particularly, but I don’t want to find my leg in his mouth.
‘In his crate. Already fed.’
‘You lied to me,’ I growl playfully. ‘Maybe I should punish you.’
