Whap whap.
The. Same. Shit.
I jammed the key into the lock, cursing a blue streak. My mother would say I needed to have my mouth washed out with soap. Well, if she was standing here, she’d be doing the same thing.
Whap whap.
I closed my eyes, albeit briefly. At this point, I was pretty certain that by the end of the night, I’d be in jail, especially since the only thing on my mind was murdering the asshole above me who’d just moved into apartment Four-F. I knew exactly where the scumbag lived since I was in Three-F. Directly below him. A new neighbor. A loud neighbor. One who didn’t give a crap what time of night it was. Welcome to the neighborhood, you son of a bitch.
I’d never even met the dude and I was ready to send him to his maker. That didn’t make me a very nice girl, but at this moment, I didn’t care. All I knew about him was from a booming male voice echoing in the hallways and a new name slapped onto the mail bin by the superintendent of the building.
I remained just inside the door to my apartment for a full minute and all I could hear was…
Whap whap.
Whap whap.
Whap whap.
If the sound wasn’t so regular, I’d think he was beating someone to death, which is what I would do to him. He obviously didn’t understand the power and wrath of a redhead after a long night serving jerks sucking down beer like it was the last night on Earth.
Well, the new neighbor was about ready to get a lesson in an Irish temper.
I tossed the food I’d brought home from the restaurant with me on my kitchen counter, taking long strides to the small closet and grabbing the broom. Then I glared up at the ceiling, jabbing the wooden handle toward it. Oh, yeah, like that was going to work. The entire building had high ceilings. And I wasn’t that damn tall. I grabbed a chair, dragging it across the floor and directly underneath the horrific noise.
Even after rising onto my tiptoes, well, at least as much as my Converse sneakers would allow, I was at least six inches shy of fulfilling my task. I’d need to use the up close and personal approach.
After tossing the broom and jumping off, I headed straight for the door, stopping short when I heard my mother’s voice inside my head.
“Never forget you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar.”
While I’d never really understood what she’d meant up to this point, as I glanced over my shoulder, a smile brightened my pissed-off mood. Bribery. There wasn’t a man alive who wasn’t hungry for a juicy roast beef sandwich oozing with delicious au jus and topped with just the perfect swirl of horseradish sauce. Eh, maybe the fruit salad would be tossed, but a girl could try.
I snagged the bag, planted a smile on my face, and took the stairs. When I was standing in front of his door, I shored my shoulders, fisted my right hand, and pounded on the door like the entire building was going up in flames any second.
The heavy footsteps weren’t as loud as the odd guttural sounds, but as he came closer to the door, I could swear I heard him speaking a foreign language.
“Kto, chert voz’mi, bespokoit menya?”
I refused to back down in any way. Nope. Not this girl.
Until he threw open the door.
While I tried to keep an angry sneer on my face, I was robbed of that beautiful moment by the sight of the giant standing in front of me. I wasn’t short by any means, but standing inches away from Mr. Barbarian, I felt tiny.
His chest, his bare and very muscular, perfectly carved chest, heaved as he glared at me with murder in his eyes—his gorgeous emerald-green eyes, his pupils almost iridescent. We had a stare down for a few seconds, but it seemed interminably longer.
Even worse, as he allowed his gaze to drop to my scuffed red tennis shoes, moving so slowly I thought we were in a time warp, I couldn’t stop quivering. If he didn’t have such a savage scowl on his face, I’d said he was probably the best-looking man I’d ever seen, but it was tough to tell given his flared nostrils.
Yet as he huffed and puffed, his muscles gleaming in the track lighting hung way above, I could envision him on the cover of Sexy Convicts of New York.
While he was checking me out, I was doing the same, blinking rapidly at the way his hard body glistened from sweat, beads trickling down his muscular arms and broad chest. Dear God, the man looked like Adonis on steroids, especially given the colorful ink sweeping down from his neck onto both forearms. While every part of his body was carved to perfection, I was certain his jawline could cut glass.
His eyes were full of something that I couldn’t place. Mystery? A firestorm? No, they were cold just like ice, penetrating in a frightening way yet I was barely able to blink let alone breathe. For a few seconds, a strange but solid buzzing sounded off in my ears, the noise deafening.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say the handsome barbarian wanted to swallow me whole.
I took a deep breath, holding it as I dared to scan the rest of his sculpted body. I knew proper ladies didn’t stare at men’s crotches, but I couldn’t help myself, especially since he was wearing tight-fitting shorts and nothing else.