She can’t get rid of me now.
Her dark hair hangs in natural waves down her back. Her black leggings encase her flawlessly curvy legs. The cutout neck of her old Dodgers tee hangs off her shoulder, giving me a better view of her honey skin. Her full pouty lips are curved in a small smile as she reads whatever story she’s lost herself in.
Only one thing comes from a woman like this.
Trouble.
And I want a taste of Savannah’s brand of trouble. I shouldn’t, but I do.
I want to know what her sighs of pleasure sound like. I want to know what her soft skin tastes like. I want to know how her pussy would feel while she rides my cock.
I don’t realize that I’m just standing there until she sets her book down on her lap and her hypnotic caramel eyes find me ogling like a dumbstruck fool. She’s caught me, but I can’t get my feet to move, and words fail me.
“Yes?” Her voice is melodic and soothing.
Still no words. No sounds.
She’s going to think I’m stupid or that I’m an escapee from a nursing home.
“Are you okay?”
A small cough clears my throat. “What’re you reading?”
Savannah squints at me and answers by lifting her book and showing me the cover.
“Pucking Aroundby Emily Rath,” I read aloud. “Looks interesting.”
She rolls her lips in, hiding a smile. “Uh huh.”
“Maybe you can recommend a book to me,” I suggest.
A delicate snort releases from her mouth. “You read romance?”
I answer without missing a beat. “Yes.”
A boldface lie. I usually read horror or biographies.
She quirks a brow. “Oh? Who’s your favorite author?”
“Um. I’ve always been a fan of…” My eyes wander the shelves around us, looking for a name. “J. Rose.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh, really?”
I continue the charade. “Absolutely. I love how he uses descriptions to set an eerie mood and build suspense.”
Savannah can’t contain her laugh. “J. Rose is a woman.”
“Okay, you caught me. I don’t read romance books.” I slide my hands into my pockets to keep myself from touching her. “I believe the kids are calling it smut these days.” My humor makes her laugh harder, the sound kickstarting my long-dead heart. I would do anything to hear it every day.
When she catches her breath again, she looks at me with a huge smile on her face. “I’m Savannah.” She reaches her hand up to me.
“Luke.” Stepping forward, I shake her hand, and I don’t want to let go. But I can’t be the creepy guy who holds her hand fortoo long. No one likes that. “Mind giving me an introduction to romance books?”
A demon or an extraterrestrial has taken over my body. I’m not supposed to want to be around her.
“Sure. Have a seat, Silver Fox.” She moves her discarded coat to her other side and pats the vacated space on the floor for me to have a seat.
I sit down next to her, even though the thin, hard carpet puts a strain on my back. “Silver fox? I only have a few grays. That’s a feat for someone my age.”
