“Is that someone you?”
Valen leans in closer, towering over me like a tall oak tree, and I’m in need of some serious shade. I shiver in his presence. So much for playing it cool; It’s not in my DNA.
“Fine, you got me.” In more ways than one, if I’m being honest. Although somehow, it feels fated. Not only is there a contractor in need of work standing right in front of me, but one that can probably cut me a deal in the process. “It’s not that big of a job, and I’ve got enough saved to get the big parts done. We don’t have to take out a wall or anything. I just need it updated.”
His eyes dance up and down my body. “How could I refuse?” A moment passes where the air between us stills. He’s so close that he could kiss me, and you bet your ass I’d let him. But before anything happens, he pulls away. My chest sinks, and I wonder how the hell I could’ve gotten such a crazy idea in my head.
“When can I stop by to see your place?”
“I’m off Saturday.”
“Hey, me too.” He smiles at me, and my knees turn to jelly. It’s almost insulting how sexy he i. It makes me feel like I’m the only woman he’s ever looked at with those smoldering eyes. “Give me your number, and I’ll text you before I come.”
The wordcomehas my mind drifting to a very dirty place. Heat flushes my cheeks as I ramble off numbers that he plugs into his phone. When he’s done, he brushes his dark blonde hair away from his forehead and smiles. “Looks like I’ll be seeing you again on Saturday, Sweet Anastasia.”
Flustered, it takes me a minute to respond. “What…what made you call me that?”
Valen shrugs his broad shoulders. The simple gesture makes him appear more like a kid than a big, burly man. It’s absolutely adorable.
“Because you are,” he says and opens the door. “I just have that feeling.” Then he’s out into the night, leaving me pining for Saturday when I get to see him again.
CHAPTERFOUR
VALEN
I shouldn’t be nervous.I’ve done dozens of kitchen renovations in the past, but this one’s definitely different. I’ve never felt the painstaking desire for one of my potential clients like I do for Anastasia. Waiting for Saturday felt like torture until the moment I could see her face again. Hell, I even contemplated accidentally running into her somehow, but I didn’t want to push it. Of course, I need the job, but I realize that I also need Anastasia, and I refuse to give up until she knows she belongs to me.
I punch her number into my phone, shooting her a quick text to let her know that I’m on my way. Her response is almost instant. She sends me her address and lets me know that she’s ready for me. I lick my lips, wondering if she could ever truly be ready for all of the things I want to do to her. I stiffen against my jeans just thinking about it.
When I pull up in front of Anastasia’s house, I have to admit it’s a cute little place. The outside could use a little work, but first thing’s first. Convincing her to hire me for the job is step one, and I’ll deal with the rest later.
My palms grow slightly damp as I approach her front door. To my surprise, I don’t even have a chance to knock. I take a step back when the door flies open. Damn, Anastasia looks fantastic. Her fiery red hair is pulled into a loose bun on top of her head. She wears little makeup, showing off her natural beauty. The black tank top she’s wearing shows off her full, billowing cleavage, while her tight, ripped black jeans hug her curves in all the right places. But the best accessory the curvy goddess wears is her beaming smile.
How am I going to get through this consultation while fighting the urge to throw her on the table and taste every square inch of her soft, sexy body?
“Valen, hey.” She holds the door open wide for me. “I hope you’re hungry.” Jesus, can this woman read my thoughts? “I made blueberry muffins.” She tilts her head to the side, showing off the delicate curve of her neck, a perfect spot for nibbling. “Starving,” I say, suppressing a growl as she steps aside to let me in. Her lemon and coconut scent fills the space between us. Of course, I’ve smelled these things before, but they’ve never turned me on like they do now.
“The kitchen’s this way.” She closes the door, then leads the way. It’s impossible to tear my eyes away from her round, sexy ass, the way her pronounced hips sway from side to side as she walks. Part of me wonders if she’s doing this on purpose, getting me all hot and bothered because somewhere deep inside she knows how badly I want her.
“It’s a shitshow; I’m not going to lie.” I’m unable to avert my eyes by the time she turns around to face me. Caught red-handed eye-fucking her, I feel the heat rising to my cheeks.
“I assure you I’ve seen worse.” Her smile reassures me that if she did catch me, she sure as hell doesn’t care. Unfortunately, Anastasia’s assessment of her kitchen isn’t far off. The old oak cabinetry, while sturdy and at one point in fashion, is in bad shape. One of the doors is completely missing, showing off a mismatched set of coffee mugs. Anastasia reaches for one, causing the hem of her tank top to rise up enough, giving me a preview of her soft flesh.
This time I switch my focus before she turns around. “I’m going to let you use one of my favorite mugs.” She waltzes over to her fancy coffee machine, a complete outlier in this outdated kitchen. “But I trust you’ll be gentle with it.”
I will not be gentle with anything having to do with Anastasia. Not at first. I won’t be able to control myself the minute I get my hands on her. It’s like I’m not in control of myself at all anymore. My mind and body are at odds. I try hard to clear the image of a stark naked Anastasia standing before me with only the air between us.
“Thanks,” I say, “I promise I won’t break it.”
She pours two cups of coffee and places two muffins on vintage-looking cake plates, then sets them in front of me. I’m not used to meetings like this. People are usually fairly stern about a business-only approach. Not only do I feel at home, but oddly enough, this place feels like it could be my home.
Easy, partner. You’re just here for a consultation…for now.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
“What?” I ask, suddenly blasted back to the moment.
Anastasia furrows her perfectly manicured brow. “The kitchen. It’s been the bane of my existence. I was going to just design one at Ikea, but you walked into my shop, and here we are. If you can give me a better deal,” she scrunches her cute little nose. “I’d rather go with you.”