her on edge. “Why are you still here anyway?”
“Fell asleep on the couch last night. Sorry.” He rubbed the crick in his neck, knowing he would’ve been a lot more comfortable sharing the Angel ’s bed overnight and wondering what it was about her that had him so wound up.
For a guy who couldn’t wait to leave town he was spending way too much time thinking about how they could burn up the sheets together given half a chance.
Only one solution for it. He needed to get laid. Like yesterday. Yet another reason to high tail it back to LA.
She shrugged and ran her mug under the tap before stacking it on the sideboard. “I figured as much when I didn’t hear you leave last night.”
“You could’ve covered me with a blanket.”
“I could’ve but my hands might’ve slipped and ended up smothering you instead.”
“Vicious.”
He decided to push his luck. He hadn’t had this much fun the morning-after, even if nothing had happened the night before.
“Does breakfast come with this coffee?”
“If you want to cook it. Though I wouldn’t hang around too long.”
Her eyes gleamed with mischief and he had a sudden urge to cross the kitchen, haul her into his arms and pick up where that kiss left off last night.
“Flo has a habit of dropping in on Saturday mornings and if she finds you here…well, there’s no telling what she might do.”
The thought of another bone rattling backslap from the gargantuan waitress quelled his libido quicker than if she’d doused him in cold water.
“On second thoughts I’m not hungry. Thanks for letting me use your computer and for letting me crash on the couch.”
“No problems. Let yourself out. I need to shower.”
So much for distracting his libido. As soon as she mentioned shower his mind drifted into the gutter again, his imagination conjuring up visions of him joining her under the warm spray, soaping up and getting it on.
“Marc?”
“Huh?”
He wrenched his mind back to the present with difficulty. In his fantasy, he’d had her pinned against the shower screen and was about to—
“If you ever need my services, don’t hesitate to holler.”
She leaned against the doorjamb, the hem of the cotton T skimming her bare thighs, her naughty expression enough to tempt a saint. By her cheeky grin she knew exactly what he’d been thinking.
“Services?” Was all he managed to say, most of the blood draining from his brain to his other organ that seemed to do all the thinking around her, rendering even the simplest of activities like speaking difficult.
“Yeah, if you need to find your perfect match, drop by the office some time. I’m sure Love Byte can provide exactly what you’re looking for.”
She wiggled her fingers in a saucy wave, blew him a kiss and strutted out of the kitchen.
Flo flipped the top of her cigarette packet and rummaged through the gold foil, futilely wishing her morning fix would appear. It didn’t and she crushed the empty packet, cursing under her breath.
“Damn habit,” she muttered, picking up her purse and car keys from the floor where she’d dropped them in utter exhaustion as she trudged in the door last night.
I’m too old for this shite , she thought, knowing six straight night shifts were too much for her ageing body yet doing it anyway. At fifty-eight she felt seventy and if her no-good lump of a husband hadn’t upped and died, leaving a mountain of debts she was still trying to clear after four years, she would’ve been living on easy street by now.
Not that she would ever leave Love but it was nice to dream about returning to Sydney, her home city she’d left all those years ago after being stupid enough to fall for Charlie and his empty promises.
“Need to find a rich bloke next time,” she said to no one in particular as she slammed the back door and threaded her way through the overgrown path to her rusty Ford, rubbing her lower back as she slid onto the threadbare seat.
Though who’d have
“Fell asleep on the couch last night. Sorry.” He rubbed the crick in his neck, knowing he would’ve been a lot more comfortable sharing the Angel ’s bed overnight and wondering what it was about her that had him so wound up.
For a guy who couldn’t wait to leave town he was spending way too much time thinking about how they could burn up the sheets together given half a chance.
Only one solution for it. He needed to get laid. Like yesterday. Yet another reason to high tail it back to LA.
She shrugged and ran her mug under the tap before stacking it on the sideboard. “I figured as much when I didn’t hear you leave last night.”
“You could’ve covered me with a blanket.”
“I could’ve but my hands might’ve slipped and ended up smothering you instead.”
“Vicious.”
He decided to push his luck. He hadn’t had this much fun the morning-after, even if nothing had happened the night before.
“Does breakfast come with this coffee?”
“If you want to cook it. Though I wouldn’t hang around too long.”
Her eyes gleamed with mischief and he had a sudden urge to cross the kitchen, haul her into his arms and pick up where that kiss left off last night.
“Flo has a habit of dropping in on Saturday mornings and if she finds you here…well, there’s no telling what she might do.”
The thought of another bone rattling backslap from the gargantuan waitress quelled his libido quicker than if she’d doused him in cold water.
“On second thoughts I’m not hungry. Thanks for letting me use your computer and for letting me crash on the couch.”
“No problems. Let yourself out. I need to shower.”
So much for distracting his libido. As soon as she mentioned shower his mind drifted into the gutter again, his imagination conjuring up visions of him joining her under the warm spray, soaping up and getting it on.
“Marc?”
“Huh?”
He wrenched his mind back to the present with difficulty. In his fantasy, he’d had her pinned against the shower screen and was about to—
“If you ever need my services, don’t hesitate to holler.”
She leaned against the doorjamb, the hem of the cotton T skimming her bare thighs, her naughty expression enough to tempt a saint. By her cheeky grin she knew exactly what he’d been thinking.
“Services?” Was all he managed to say, most of the blood draining from his brain to his other organ that seemed to do all the thinking around her, rendering even the simplest of activities like speaking difficult.
“Yeah, if you need to find your perfect match, drop by the office some time. I’m sure Love Byte can provide exactly what you’re looking for.”
She wiggled her fingers in a saucy wave, blew him a kiss and strutted out of the kitchen.
Flo flipped the top of her cigarette packet and rummaged through the gold foil, futilely wishing her morning fix would appear. It didn’t and she crushed the empty packet, cursing under her breath.
“Damn habit,” she muttered, picking up her purse and car keys from the floor where she’d dropped them in utter exhaustion as she trudged in the door last night.
I’m too old for this shite , she thought, knowing six straight night shifts were too much for her ageing body yet doing it anyway. At fifty-eight she felt seventy and if her no-good lump of a husband hadn’t upped and died, leaving a mountain of debts she was still trying to clear after four years, she would’ve been living on easy street by now.
Not that she would ever leave Love but it was nice to dream about returning to Sydney, her home city she’d left all those years ago after being stupid enough to fall for Charlie and his empty promises.
“Need to find a rich bloke next time,” she said to no one in particular as she slammed the back door and threaded her way through the overgrown path to her rusty Ford, rubbing her lower back as she slid onto the threadbare seat.
Though who’d have
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