Valentine Next Door by Willa Edwards Page A

starting to become the same. Thank God the woman had never discovered blinds.
    She stepped into the middle of the room, her tiny bare feet curled into the plush carpet. Standing in front of the dresser mirror, she dropped her hands to her chest, her nimble fingers unbuttoning her shirt. The pale color was perfect against her exotic caramel complexion. Each released button showed off a new inch of flesh. Even from his vantage point across the yard, her skin looked soft and kissable.
    Nothing about Mrs Valentine had changed in the ten years he’d been away. Not her habits, her figure or her ability to strike him deaf, dumb and blind with her beauty.
    She tossed the white shirt to the floor. She slid her hands behind her to unbutton her skirt, thrusting her chest forward, her ample breasts threatening to overflow from her white-laced bra. The very edge of one nipple almost escaped the frilly trim, tempting him to insanity. She twisted the skirt around her waist, released the zipper then pushed the fabric down her full hips—hips that would be just the right size to hold onto as he pounded into her from behind. From this angle, he couldn’t see her ass but he knew it was plump and round. The kind of ass he’d always loved. He’d do almost anything for the opportunity to explore those hills and valleys.
    The skirt dropped to her feet and she stepped out of it. Her matching white-laced bikini panties were cut high, showing off even more of her shapely legs. Mrs Valentine was five three, barely reaching his shoulder, but he’d always liked that about her. Her small, curvy frame was perfect for him to hold, to protect, to love.
    His cock thickened further in his sweat pants. He fought back a groan, not wanting to share the noise with his best friend. He’d forgotten how hard it was to watch from afar and not be able to touch her. In the years he’d been gone, being allowed to touch a woman hadn’t been a problem. There were very few women he’d met who he couldn’t charm, either with his handsome but still boyish good looks or with his exciting and prestigious profession. Though he’d never found the right woman.
    In his life, there must have been other women he’d been unable to seduce. There certainly must have been a few others in high school. He hadn’t started working out until college. And he hadn’t discovered how appealing women found being photographed until a few years into his profession. But the only one he remembered was Mrs Valentine.
    “How’s the view?”
    He held the phone tight to his mouth as he rose then limped around the corner. He hid behind the faded Spiderman curtains his mom planned to take down but hadn’t gotten around to yet. At least they offered some protection from Mrs Valentine’s view. He’d hate for her to find him watching her.
    Jeremy smiled, straightening his stance for an even better view. “Just as good as ever.”
    It may have been ten years, but Mrs Valentine looked as amazing as she always had.
    As a teenager, he hadn’t realized the invasion of privacy it was to spy on her, to see her in her states of semi undress, even if she allowed it by never closing her curtains. Now he was old enough to know better. But he couldn’t make himself look away. He made a career of capturing the most beautiful visions on Earth, and he couldn’t avert his eyes from the most gorgeous creation he’d ever seen, no matter how wrong it might be.
    Mrs Valentine had taught him the most important lesson of his life. If someone stayed quiet and still long enough, he would see the most glorious sights. It was a skill he used every day in his career. His editor was always amazed by how Jeremey managed to get the best shots, even from his first days on the job. Jeremy didn’t care if he had to wait in a mud puddle for three days to get the perfect photo of a sunset over a pack of sleeping lions, he’d do it. It was a skill that had rewarded him well, making him a highly paid nature photographer