Looking up at the sky, he grabs his tool bucket and walks back up to the porch. He drops it and leans up against the banister, crossing his feet at the ankles. Once he finishes his cigarette, he flicks the butt into his bucket.
He steps back into the kitchen to find Myra cleaning up the dishes from breakfast.
“I’m gonna start tearing out the cabinets. I’ll start with the one that has the door missing. Where do you want me to put the stuff that’s in it?” he asks gruffly.
“Oh, I’ll clean it out. I can probably put everything in the pantry,” she says as she dries her hands on a towel and steps in front of the cabinet. He starts to move to help her but freezes when he sees her reach up on her tip-toes to grab some bowls off of the top shelf. Swallowing hard, his eyes skim along her beautiful, silky hair, down to the sliver of creamy skin that peeks out where her sweatshirt has snuck up. His gaze trails further down to her beautiful, round ass. Her jeans fit her ass so snug and tight, outlining her curves perfectly. He wants to run his hands over those curves. He feels a stab of guilt for eye-fucking her from behind without her knowledge, but he can’t seem to help that shit.
Shaking his head, he finally snaps out of his lustful stare and wants to kick his own fucking ass for being such a pervert. “Here, let me get those,” he says quickly, his voice a bit husky, as he leans in close to her, reaching above her head and grabbing the bowls off of the shelf.
“Thanks,” she says softly as she looks up at him. He gets pissed at himself when he smiles down at her. Fucking smiles seem to be constantly popping up on his face lately. He can’t control that shit and knows he probably looks like a damn pussy. Or like some ridiculous lovesick school boy, which he knows for damn sure he isn’t.
“Um, I’ll put these away,” she mumbles as she reaches out to take the bowls from him. Their fingers slightly graze each other’s. Her eyes meet his before she ducks her head and turns around. His gaze stays glued to her ass as she scurries into the pantry.
He adjusts himself as things downstairs have gotten really damn uncomfortable. No way does he want to have a hard-as-rock dick trapped in his jeans with a tool belt hanging over it. He needs to get control of himself and stop acting like a goddamn horny teenager.
Myra lets out a scream right before Dylan hears a loud crashing coming from the pantry. His heart almost jumps out of his fucking chest.
Dashing into the tiny closet, he mumbles, “What the hell?” One of the shelves has come crashing down, leaving boxes of food, canned veggies, and various other items scattered across the floor. Grabbing the shelf, he leans it up against the wall.
“Damn it. Are you hurt?” he asks as he moves closer to her, kicking shit out of the way with his boots. He grabs her hand and pulls her to him.
“I’m… fine. It just scared me,” she says in a small, breathy voice with her hand over her heart.
“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit outta me,” he murmurs as he wraps his arms around her. “Did anything hit you?” He looks her body up and down, searching for any signs of injury.
“No, I’m okay,” she says softly, staring up at him.
He has no idea why the fuck he pulled her into his arms. It was like some kind of damn automatic reaction. He knows he shouldn’t be doing that shit. He should let her go now. But he can’t. Instead, he pulls her tighter up against him, loving how she feels, how perfect she fits in his arms.
He stares down into her beautiful face, her wide eyes, and then his gaze drops to her lips. He wants to taste those fucking lips. Feel them against his. Desperately. He has to…
His breathing increases. “I’ve only kissed one woman in my damn life. But I want to kiss you so fucking bad right now,” he says as he drops his head down closer to hers, so that their lips are just inches apart. “Can I kiss you?” he whispers.
Myra braces her hands against him; her chest heaves with her breaths. She nods and whispers, “Yes.”
He moves in until his lips just barely touch hers. They feel just as soft as they fucking look. That simple touch ignites a wave of lust throughout his body. He tightens his arms around her, pulling her closer to his body, molding it to his. Her arms move up, touching the nape of his neck softly. His lips press firmly against hers, moving all the while. His bottom lip still hurts from Derek clocking him, but he could not care less right now.
A contented, throaty moan vibrates deep in his chest. She feels so much better than he ever imagined. Trailing his hand up her back, he threads his fingers through her hair. It feels like strands of silk against his rough, calloused hand. She responds to his every move. Her tongue teases his lower lip.
Holy fuck, he thinks to himself as he opens his mouth and slides his tongue against hers, tasting her. She tastes like blueberry-flavored coffee. His breathing accelerates. He needs to get closer. Feel more of her. Touch more of her skin, her small, soft body.
He pushes her up against the shelves of the pantry, noisily jostling shit behind them. Something falls, but he ignores it. He tries to grind himself up against her, needing to get some friction on his cock, but he can’t because of his damn tool belt. Sucking her bottom lip into his mouth, he scrapes his teeth lightly over it before his lips leave hers and move down her neck as he inhales heavily. She smells like some kind of fruity shit. He likes it. A lot.
“Fuck,” he breathes against her neck as his tongue licks a trail along her warm skin. She shivers slightly in his arms.
His lips graze back up her neck as he nuzzles his nose behind her ear, kissing the soft skin right behind her earlobe. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for so fucking long,” he whispers in a hoarse voice against her ear. When she gasps, a small smile tugs on his lips.
He jerks forward and mumbles, “What the fuck?” as something bangs him on the head. Keeping her tight against him, he turns his head and glares at a large package of paper towels lying on the floor behind him. He looks back down into Myra’s face. “Fucking paper towels…” he growls in a pissed-off voice, his breathing still heavy. Myra’s eyes dance with amusement, and a small giggle slips from her lips. He tries to stay fucking irritated and fights like hell to keep the damn smile back, but he can’t contain it. His smile turns into laughter and loud chuckles slip out of his mouth.
Dylan can’t remember the last time he laughed. Really laughed. He feels lighter somehow. The warm sensation in his chest feels good.
Leaning his head back, he lets the laughter rip freely from his chest. Myra shakes in his arms, laughing along with him. He looks down at her, with a huge, happy grin on his face.
“I’m sorry,” she apologizes between more giggles.
The smile on his face fades slowly into a smoldering gaze as he looks at her. Her eyes are wide and twinkling, her lips slightly swollen and red, her cheeks rosy. Slowly, he leans down towards her, positioning his lips just inches from hers. “More?” he whispers. He prays like fucking hell that he can touch her lips again. He notices her eyes are on his lips as she nods. He likes that.
He crushes his mouth to hers, pushing her roughly up against the shelves again.
Myra’s phone rings. At first he ignores it because he can’t leave her lips right now. They feel too damn good. But finally, he reluctantly pulls away from her, dropping his arms to his sides. She mumbles, “Sorry,” as she pulls her phone out of her back pocket. He steps out of the pantry to give her some privacy.
* * *
Myra tucks her phone back in her pocket and covers her face with her hands, trying desperately to get herself under control. Her heart still pounds rapidly in her chest. That was the most incredible kiss she has ever experienced. Things have just dramatically changed between her and Dylan in a very short amount of time.
Her mind spins. She has no idea what to say to him or how to act around him now. Taking in a shaky breath as she steps out of the pantry, she finds Dylan removing the cabinet from the wall, his back to her. She clears her throat. “That was the dealership. My car’s ready. Somebody’s going to drop it off this
morning and pick up the rental.”
He turns around and nods. “Good. I’m gonna work on your cabinets. I’ll fix that shelf in your pantry so don’t worry about it.”
She tugs on the sleeves of her sweatshirt. “Okay. I’ll just, I’ll be upstairs if you need anything,” she says.
“Okay.” He nods and gives her a crooked grin before he turns back around.
Myra heads upstairs, her heart beating like a drum. Opening the door to her bedroom, she quickly shuts it, leaning up against it and closing her eyes. Tilting her head back, she chews on her lip, before the corners of her mouth curve up into a happy, uncontrollable smile. She covers her face in her hands and lets out a little squeal. Flopping on her bed, she excitedly whips out her phone and dials Susie.
“Hey. How’s it going?” Susie answers.
“I kissed Dylan,” Myra blurts out giddily in a quiet voice.
Myra giggles and pulls the phone away when she hears loud squawking and screeching sounds coming from Susie. After a few seconds, she puts the phone back up to her ear to hear Susie yelling, “Oh my God, you kissed the scruffy Greek god.” She hears some odd shuffling noises and Susie mutters, “Hang on a sec.”
Myra grins big as she stares up at the ceiling waiting on Susie.
“Okay, sorry about that. I got some nasty ass looks after screaming like a banshee in the office so I ducked into the bathroom. I’m about to shit myself. Tell me what happened before I die of a coronary. What about the pregnant beauty queen girlfriend?” she shouts.
“Well, he showed up here this morning to talk. It ended up she’s not Sabrina, she’s his sister-in-law. Can you believe that?”
Susie gasps. “No way.”
“Yes. He said Sabrina was part of his past but that it was hard for him to talk about it but that he would tell me. The way his face looked when he mentioned her, I’m thinking something really bad must have happened. But anyway, he said he was single and…”
She stops talking when she hears a sound like Susie smacking a wall. “Yeah, baby,” Susie yells. “Sorry, go ahead,” she adds quickly.
Myra giggles. “I was moving stuff from the cabinets into the pantry and one of the shelves fell down. It scared me so I kind of screamed and he rushed in there and…” Myra giggles again. She can’t control her happiness. She feels like she might bubble over with joy.
“God, woman, I’m going to strangle you long distance if you don’t spill your beanie weenies right now,” Susie shouts.
Myra finally gets her giggles under control. “Then he grabbed me and pulled me to him…”
Susie squeals loudly again. Myra also thinks she hears some clapping.
“Then he leaned towards me and told me that he’s only kissed one other woman in his life and then…”
“Hold your shitty horses. There is no way in the damn world that fuckhawt delicious piece of hunkiness has only ever kissed one woman. He’s lying his ass off.”
The smile fades from Myra’s face. “But, I believed him. He seemed sincere. Why would he lie?”
“Myra, you are so naïve. Mr. Shit-faced Asshole wants to march his soldier all up in your private parts without wearing his uniform.”
“Why do you have to be so vulgar?”
“I’m telling you the truth. That man is so incredibly hot that he could have any woman in the damn universe. Women have to throw themselves at him constantly. Just make sure you have him wear a custard catcher, do you hear me?”
Myra groans. “I am not going to have sex with him. And custard catcher? Where do you come up with this crap?”
“I don’t know. My brain is frightening and fried. And like I really believe you’re not going to have sex with that Greek god.”
Myra snorts in response.
“Okay, so tell me what happened next,” Susie demands.
“Well, then he asked if he could kiss me.”
“He asked? Like, for permission? Oh God, that is seriously sexy.”
“I know. It was incredible.”
“Then what happened?”
“I said, ‘Yes,’ and then he grabbed me and kissed me.” Myra can’t stop the happy giggles that slip out.
“Did you swoon? Did you almost faint? Oh my God. What did that scruff feel like? Were his lips soft? What did he smell like?” Susie lets out a high-pitched scream. “This is so exciting. I need the little deets. Spill, woman.”
Myra sniggers. “I definitely swooned. His lips felt amazing. They were soft and rough at the same time. I don’t know how I didn’t pass out. I couldn’t even breathe; my heart was pounding so hard. He smelled like smoke and musk and like the outdoors or something. A real manly, woodsy smell.”
Susie sighs dramatically. “I love it,” she says dreamily.
Myra takes in a deep breath as well, her smile so huge it almost hurts her face.
“Wait,” Susie yells. “You need to tell him you’re a virgin.”
“Why? I’m not a virgin.”
“Listen, you’ve never been with a real man before. All you’ve ever been exposed to is puny peckers. You’ve only been with douche nozzle and that other guy in college. So you’ve only had like, I don’t know, Vienna sausages or something. I guarantee you that Dylan is packing a footlong all-beef wiener with bun, relish, chili, sauerkraut and all the fixin’s included under those baggy jeans of his. I saw the freakish size of that man’s hands and feet. I know what that means.”
“Susie, for God’s sake, would you stop?”
“I’m serious. You need to get out that pink dildo I sent you and start practicing.”
“Arrrrgh,” Myra cries out in mortification.
Susie laughs. “I’m sorry. You know my mouth. I need to staple it. With extra-large staples. Or use a couple of those big chip clips on it. Listen, honey, I am so thrilled for you that I’m literally about to die. I’m just going to pray pray pray that he’s a good man and that this works out. Because if he turns out to be another Trent, I promise you that I will come out there and beat him over the head with his tool belt.”
Myra laughs, shaking her head.
“I gotta get back to work, honey, or El Numero Uno Dickhead is going to tan my hide. I’m so excited for you. I’ll call ya later tonight, okay? Now get yourself back in that pantry and rub yourself all over that hot man. I love you.”
Myra smiles. “I love you too.”
* * *
Dylan carries the cabinet he removed to the dumpster-trailer, and tosses it in. Lighting up a smoke, he leans against the house, tucking his left hand in his jeans pocket. He turns his head slightly to watch Myra as she stands in front of her car and talks to the guy from the dealership. A few minutes later, Jackie shows up, talking animatedly and waving her hands in the air. He finishes his smoke and heads back into the kitchen to work on the pantry shelving.
He can’t believe he lost all of his damn self-control and basically ravaged Myra like that. He was so fucking turned-on by that woman that he wanted to tear her clothes off like some kind of savage caveman. That thought really pisses him off because he doesn’t want to act like a depraved, sex-starved ass around her. She doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.
He doesn’t know what the hell to do about the whole situation. He didn’t even know what to say to her afterwards other than work-related shit about her house. Now things are just going to be all fucking weird and shit since he has to work here. And he doesn’t understand why the woman never leaves. Doesn’t she have a damn job?
He growls as he begins removing shit off of her shelves. He doesn’t want to get involved with anyone right now. Not that he can’t – although his heart sometimes tells him otherwise. He just doesn’t want to involve someone else in all of his personal shit. The personal shit that his mind continuously replays over and over every day of his miserable fucking life. The thought of having to talk to someone about his past terrifies him.
“Hey,” Myra says, her voice startling him. And just like that, all of his jumbled, confused angry thought
s melt away like butter. He turns, eager to see her face again, convinced that he has turned into a fucking pansy after one kiss.
“Yeah?” He tries to keep his face stern and professional-looking, but he can feel that shit softening.
Myra’s smile fades a little as a crease forms in her forehead. She stares at him for a minute. “I got my car back,” she says, smiling up at him as she tucks her hair behind her ear.
Staring at her beautiful smiling face, he feels his exterior melting. Clearing his throat, he frowns. “I’m sorry about your car…”
“It was an accident,” she says.
He nods and drops his gaze to the floor, unsure of what to say next.
“Um, I was going to fix some lunch. Would you like some?” she asks.
Fuck, he really wants to eat lunch with her. He’d love to eat whatever the hell she fixes and just stare at her beautiful face across the table. And then maybe push her back into the pantry and finish what he started earlier. He wants to definitely taste those lips again and maybe let his hands roam over her curves…
This shit has to stop. Now.
He shakes his head. “No, I’m gonna finish fixing these shelves and then remove that cabinet over there,” he says as he points over her head, “then I’m going home. We should keep this professional. I should’ve never eaten with you and shit. I’ve never done that with a customer before…” He knows that’s what started all of this shit; her good cooking and that stupid fucking Ray.
He coughs a little, finding it difficult to talk. “I’m sorry about what happened... in here.” The look on her face causes his chest to fucking burn. She looks so tiny and pained that he feels like he just stepped on a small, delicate flower and crushed it.
She nods before immediately leaving the kitchen.
“Fuck,” he says under his breath as he runs a hand through his hair.
* * *
Myra feels the stinging of tears pricking her eyes as she quickly makes her way up the stairs. She feels stupid for being so happy this morning over that kiss. The kiss that Dylan now regrets. She never wants to be the object of someone’s regret.
Color of Loneliness Page 23
