Connections left her feeling frisky, and sleeping naked was one of the small benefits of living alone.
And that was when it hit her all at once.
The Missed Connections post.
The pink panties, uninspiring when she thought of Grayson being on the opposite side of the door, felt totally different when she considered the other possibility.
She looked past the window in the front room, her heartbeat now throbbing in her ears, her legs shaky, a pulse of something hot and undeniable between her thighs. Through the rain, it was hard to see the vehicle in the driveway.
“Who is it?” she called, her voice caught between a rasp of hope and fear.
She wasn’t even sure what she wanted the answer to be. Grayson was annoying but safe. She could snap at him and send him on his way like she had the thousand other times he’d shown up at her door.
As for the other possibility…
“You know who it is, chica.”
Katie sucked in a startled breath, that combination of fear and lust slamming directly into her solar plexus.
Ohmigod. Ohmigod. Ohmigod.
He showed up.
What seemed like a great idea two glasses of wine into her bath, was a lot more terrifying when the possibility was looking her in the eye, and she was wearing nothing but pink panties and a shaggy blue robe she’d had since high school.
Her eyes were wide as she stared at the door.
“You don’t have to open it,” he said on the other side, his voice resigned rather than angry, as if he could sense all her fears in the silence. “It’s probably better if you don’t.”
That wasn’t very comforting.
“Shit, that sounds all off.” Marcos groaned, as if reading her mind. “I’m not saying I expect something. I’m not that guy. It’s just you’re…you, and I’m me and— Coño, I shouldn’t have come. I just—”
Katie jerked the door open, because there was something about the low rasp of pain in his voice that spoke to her. The fear of the moment had caused temporary amnesia of why she had posted all those Missed Connections posts to begin with. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly in him that could somehow mirror all her own insecurities, but it resonated in her so strongly she couldn’t not open the door.
Marcos stood there, protected from the storm under the shelter of the awning over her porch. His short dark hair was wet but standing up in inky spikes as if he’d run his hands through it repeatedly. The tight plain blue shirt he wore clung to his powerful chest and muscular arms like a second skin. The light from the house reflected in his pale eyes, making the emotion swirling in them stark and undeniable as his gaze ran over her standing there in nothing but the robe. The low dip in it must have made it obvious there wasn’t much beneath it.
“ Ay Dios mio ,” Marcos choked, his voice low in a way that made all the fine hair on Katie’s arms stand on end. He shook his head, as if doubting his claims that he didn’t need anything from her. “You shouldn’t have opened the door, cariño .”
Katie should ask him in, but she was still frozen in a pulsing, stunned state of lustful shock. As much as she enjoyed just being around him, a part of her couldn’t believe this was actually happening. To her of all people. She was supposed to date men like Grayson, not ones like Marcos, who bled raw sex appeal so potent she could almost taste it on her tongue. Everything about him was hard and unforgiving as he filled her doorway, those inked-up biceps now dripping wet and begging to be touched.
“W-what does cariño mean?” she asked rather than do the logical thing like invite him inside, because the way he had said it in that low, husky voice made it feel almost like a caress. She pulled her robe closed unconsciously, because his gaze kept dipping to the V of it. “You make me wish I’d taken Spanish in college instead of—” Katie’s rambling was cut off when he lifted his light gaze back to her face, that unbridled intensity still
And that was when it hit her all at once.
The Missed Connections post.
The pink panties, uninspiring when she thought of Grayson being on the opposite side of the door, felt totally different when she considered the other possibility.
She looked past the window in the front room, her heartbeat now throbbing in her ears, her legs shaky, a pulse of something hot and undeniable between her thighs. Through the rain, it was hard to see the vehicle in the driveway.
“Who is it?” she called, her voice caught between a rasp of hope and fear.
She wasn’t even sure what she wanted the answer to be. Grayson was annoying but safe. She could snap at him and send him on his way like she had the thousand other times he’d shown up at her door.
As for the other possibility…
“You know who it is, chica.”
Katie sucked in a startled breath, that combination of fear and lust slamming directly into her solar plexus.
Ohmigod. Ohmigod. Ohmigod.
He showed up.
What seemed like a great idea two glasses of wine into her bath, was a lot more terrifying when the possibility was looking her in the eye, and she was wearing nothing but pink panties and a shaggy blue robe she’d had since high school.
Her eyes were wide as she stared at the door.
“You don’t have to open it,” he said on the other side, his voice resigned rather than angry, as if he could sense all her fears in the silence. “It’s probably better if you don’t.”
That wasn’t very comforting.
“Shit, that sounds all off.” Marcos groaned, as if reading her mind. “I’m not saying I expect something. I’m not that guy. It’s just you’re…you, and I’m me and— Coño, I shouldn’t have come. I just—”
Katie jerked the door open, because there was something about the low rasp of pain in his voice that spoke to her. The fear of the moment had caused temporary amnesia of why she had posted all those Missed Connections posts to begin with. She wasn’t sure what it was exactly in him that could somehow mirror all her own insecurities, but it resonated in her so strongly she couldn’t not open the door.
Marcos stood there, protected from the storm under the shelter of the awning over her porch. His short dark hair was wet but standing up in inky spikes as if he’d run his hands through it repeatedly. The tight plain blue shirt he wore clung to his powerful chest and muscular arms like a second skin. The light from the house reflected in his pale eyes, making the emotion swirling in them stark and undeniable as his gaze ran over her standing there in nothing but the robe. The low dip in it must have made it obvious there wasn’t much beneath it.
“ Ay Dios mio ,” Marcos choked, his voice low in a way that made all the fine hair on Katie’s arms stand on end. He shook his head, as if doubting his claims that he didn’t need anything from her. “You shouldn’t have opened the door, cariño .”
Katie should ask him in, but she was still frozen in a pulsing, stunned state of lustful shock. As much as she enjoyed just being around him, a part of her couldn’t believe this was actually happening. To her of all people. She was supposed to date men like Grayson, not ones like Marcos, who bled raw sex appeal so potent she could almost taste it on her tongue. Everything about him was hard and unforgiving as he filled her doorway, those inked-up biceps now dripping wet and begging to be touched.
“W-what does cariño mean?” she asked rather than do the logical thing like invite him inside, because the way he had said it in that low, husky voice made it feel almost like a caress. She pulled her robe closed unconsciously, because his gaze kept dipping to the V of it. “You make me wish I’d taken Spanish in college instead of—” Katie’s rambling was cut off when he lifted his light gaze back to her face, that unbridled intensity still
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