hard.”
Sure he was. Although not from exertion.
“I told you. You’re not heavy.” He moved her back a step. “Here. You just stand right there and hold up this wall while I find the key.”
She nodded obediently. It took a moment, and felt longer, to sift through the various keys on her ring, but eventually he had the door open. “There you go. Home, safe and sound.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
But she didn’t move.
“You can stop holding up the wall now,” Eros said.
“It’s not gonna fall?”
“It won’t. I promise.” Gods, just how drunk was she?
She nodded but didn’t make a move for the door. Just stood there, leaning on the wall, chewing on her bottom lip and looking at him. So he did the only thing he could do. Reached for her arm and tugged. “C’mon. It’s time to go inside.”
She came along, as docilely as a child. He closed the door behind them and looked around.
Like most apartments in New York, Annie’s was small. They were standing in a tiny entry with a small galley kitchen through a doorway to their left. She had hung a beaded curtain in the opening, and the beads clicked together in the draft he had created when he opened the front door. A small living room was ahead, with a smaller bedroom and a tiny bath in the back. The furnishings were eclectic, fun, a mixture of styles and colors, while the walls were painted a neutral off-white.
“Nice place.”
“Thank you,” Annie said, looking around as if she’d never been there before.
“Let me get your coat.” She probably wouldn’t think to take it off on her own.
“Thank you.” She stood quietly and let him pull the jacket from her shoulders and down her arms. There was a rack with a few hooks to the right of the door, and he hung it there. When he was finished, she was still just standing there looking around.
He did the same. “This is it, right? Your apartment?”
“Sure.” She glanced at him. “It looks smaller with you in it.”
Funny, the walls were closing in on him just a bit, too. He ran a finger under his collar. The place smelled like her, like sugar and vanilla, and it was difficult to catch his breath. He glanced at the door. “I should probably go.”
She nodded. “Thank you for walking me home.”
“You’re welcome.”
But he didn’t walk to the door, and she didn’t look away from him, and her eyes were big and soft, her expression wide open and vulnerable. Her lips looked soft, too, and so did the tops of her breasts, that he could see above the neckline of the dress. She was standing too close. Just close enough that he could bend and capture those lips with his own.
So he did, against his better judgment.
Chapter Eight
Holy cow .
She had read books in which the heroine dribbled like cooked spaghetti to puddle at the hero’s feet, but Annie had never expected to be on the receiving end of that kind of kiss herself. A kiss was a kiss was a kiss, in her experience. Some men were better at kissing than others. Some were too grabby, while others didn’t know how to use their tongues properly, and a few just sort of stood there, leaving her to do most of the work and hoping she’d tacitly clue them in on what she liked in the process.
Ross didn’t do any of those things. He was in total control from the second his lips found hers, and he seemed to know instinctively what she liked. The kiss was light, his lips soft and undemanding, giving her the chance to push him away if she wanted. When she didn’t— what, am I crazy? —the tip of his tongue came out to lick at the corner of her mouth, and that’s when Annie’s knees turned to Jell-O, and she had to latch onto Ross’s lapels with both hands to keep on her feet.
She hadn’t intended it as an invitation, but she wasn’t about to complain when he wrapped both arms around her waist.
He was stronger than she’d anticipated. She was pretty sure Harry would have had a problem hauling her up five flights of
Sure he was. Although not from exertion.
“I told you. You’re not heavy.” He moved her back a step. “Here. You just stand right there and hold up this wall while I find the key.”
She nodded obediently. It took a moment, and felt longer, to sift through the various keys on her ring, but eventually he had the door open. “There you go. Home, safe and sound.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.”
But she didn’t move.
“You can stop holding up the wall now,” Eros said.
“It’s not gonna fall?”
“It won’t. I promise.” Gods, just how drunk was she?
She nodded but didn’t make a move for the door. Just stood there, leaning on the wall, chewing on her bottom lip and looking at him. So he did the only thing he could do. Reached for her arm and tugged. “C’mon. It’s time to go inside.”
She came along, as docilely as a child. He closed the door behind them and looked around.
Like most apartments in New York, Annie’s was small. They were standing in a tiny entry with a small galley kitchen through a doorway to their left. She had hung a beaded curtain in the opening, and the beads clicked together in the draft he had created when he opened the front door. A small living room was ahead, with a smaller bedroom and a tiny bath in the back. The furnishings were eclectic, fun, a mixture of styles and colors, while the walls were painted a neutral off-white.
“Nice place.”
“Thank you,” Annie said, looking around as if she’d never been there before.
“Let me get your coat.” She probably wouldn’t think to take it off on her own.
“Thank you.” She stood quietly and let him pull the jacket from her shoulders and down her arms. There was a rack with a few hooks to the right of the door, and he hung it there. When he was finished, she was still just standing there looking around.
He did the same. “This is it, right? Your apartment?”
“Sure.” She glanced at him. “It looks smaller with you in it.”
Funny, the walls were closing in on him just a bit, too. He ran a finger under his collar. The place smelled like her, like sugar and vanilla, and it was difficult to catch his breath. He glanced at the door. “I should probably go.”
She nodded. “Thank you for walking me home.”
“You’re welcome.”
But he didn’t walk to the door, and she didn’t look away from him, and her eyes were big and soft, her expression wide open and vulnerable. Her lips looked soft, too, and so did the tops of her breasts, that he could see above the neckline of the dress. She was standing too close. Just close enough that he could bend and capture those lips with his own.
So he did, against his better judgment.
Chapter Eight
Holy cow .
She had read books in which the heroine dribbled like cooked spaghetti to puddle at the hero’s feet, but Annie had never expected to be on the receiving end of that kind of kiss herself. A kiss was a kiss was a kiss, in her experience. Some men were better at kissing than others. Some were too grabby, while others didn’t know how to use their tongues properly, and a few just sort of stood there, leaving her to do most of the work and hoping she’d tacitly clue them in on what she liked in the process.
Ross didn’t do any of those things. He was in total control from the second his lips found hers, and he seemed to know instinctively what she liked. The kiss was light, his lips soft and undemanding, giving her the chance to push him away if she wanted. When she didn’t— what, am I crazy? —the tip of his tongue came out to lick at the corner of her mouth, and that’s when Annie’s knees turned to Jell-O, and she had to latch onto Ross’s lapels with both hands to keep on her feet.
She hadn’t intended it as an invitation, but she wasn’t about to complain when he wrapped both arms around her waist.
He was stronger than she’d anticipated. She was pretty sure Harry would have had a problem hauling her up five flights of
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