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Authors: Jianne Carlo

Tags: #Suspense, #Paranormal, #Erotic Romance

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BOOK: Alpha Me Not
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She tipped her head and pursed a mouth too red and full to be anything but sinful. “So Terri mentioned. She did, however, fail to inform me that the two of you, good buddies, tanned in your birthday suits regularly.”

She crossed her arms and pointedly cast her gaze to his groin.

“Hey, I’m only human. My dick’s reacting the way it’s supposed to.”

“Well, tell it to take a hike and wait for Terri’s return. I am not her fill-in.”

“Terri’s a lesbian.”

He suppressed a smile when her brows arched and she blinked and then gave a little head shake.

“Terri?”

In her twenties, Terri’d been a centerfold of the year, and she hadn’t let her figure slide after turning thirty. Petite and curvy, femininity personified, she was the opposite of the female lesbian stereotype.

“Yeah. Go figure.” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Can we start over? I’d prefer not to have to guard my back for the next year. That’s the length of your lease, right?”

A scowl pinched her onyx brows into a V, and she widened her stance, pelvis thrust forward. “And how in heck do you know that?”

Jesus
. The memory of her pink, unshaved pussy had his mouth watering. He tried to erase all sorts of images from his cock-controlled head. “This is how it is. Terri and I get along. We’re friends. I’ve just returned to the US from Europe and haven’t had time to check e-mail. I thought you were her. You’re obviously not. Can’t we forget about what happened earlier and go forward from here?”

Her nostrils flared. “Why didn’t the cops arrest you?”

Now that comment made him want to connect his hand with her ass. “Say again?”

“Okay. Okay. I may have overreacted.” She shoved the door back and forth. “Terri did say you were one of the few decent guys still left on the planet. And that you could be counted on in an emergency.”

“Yeah. Well, that I am and you can.” Joe couldn’t stop picturing her fat, pink nipples. “So, want to start over?”

“I guess.” She toed a circle, and man, did she have adorable toes, especially the big one. Cute and plump and sloped to the left. Joe could think of a lot of uses for that toe.

“Is that a yes?”

“I guess.”

He rolled his eyes. “Can you be more specific? I’d prefer not to have the cops chasing me every time I speak to you.”

“They should’ve arrested you.” She twisted her lips. “Still, I guess it’s a case of mistaken identity.”

A big sigh.

Eyes to the ceiling.

She met his gaze. “Okay, I’m Susie White. Terri did say that you were a perfect gentleman.”

“Now I wouldn’t go that far.” He scraped both hands through his hair. “Pleasure to meet you, Susie White. Are we on the same page now? I’m not a sex fiend. And we’re going to play nice as neighbors?”

“Maybe to the first one. And yes to the second.”

She did that woman thing of tossing her hair and arching her neck, and his cock reacted with a vigor Joe didn’t remember existing since his twenties.
Fuck
. He sniffed, and her musk went straight to his head. He couldn’t wait to bury his nose in her pussy, and he rarely did the down under.

“Terri told me you have a key to this house.” Her mouth flattened, and she stuck her hand out. “I want it.”

Her lips were rose colored, and when she spoke, her mouth did this little dance with her teeth, kind of like a stripper’s bump and grind. Could she take him? Suck him down to the base? Holy crapola, he was falling fast and hard.

What the heck was she talking about? Keys. Oh yeah. He’d anticipated that move.

“Figured you might. Can’t say as I blame you. Here.” He pulled the key he’d stashed earlier from his jeans pocket and handed it to her. “If you’re up to it, I thought we could walk to Mama Maria’s and grab a bite. Eat with the early birds.”

She stared at him for a few seconds and then stepped back. Eyed him from boots to tousled hair. “Damned if I do and damned if I don’t. Okay. Let’s do this. Kill two birds with one stone. The gas ran out for the stove, and I can’t figure out how to switch the thingy. Terri said you always changed tanks for her.”

“What?” He’d been too busy planning the path from dinner to hot and heavy fucking and missed every other word.

Tanks? As in battle?

“The kitchen stove. Gas tank. Needs to be changed.” She threw him a superior sneer and raised one brow. “You fix it and we’ll do dinner.”

“Not sure I like how this is going down.” Joe resisted the temptation to tuck her hair behind her ears, check out her lobes. He had a thing for succulent lobes. “Sounds like you’re only agreeing to dinner with me if I fix the stove.”

“Brilliant deduction, Sherlock. So…what’s the verdict?”

“For the record, I would’ve changed the gas tank without the blackmail. And you’re appearing a lot less gracious with that last remark.” Joe stifled a grin when she colored from tempting cleavage to forehead. “I could’ve sworn I changed the gas tank for Terri before this last trip. Want me to do it now?”

“Damn it. Don’t you try to guilt me out. I’m not the one who waltzed into my backyard wearing not a stitch of clothing and a ginormous penis. And now you want us to cozy up and have dinner? Forgive me for jumping to the wrong conclusions.”

He held his hands up. “Whoa. How did we get from changing the gas tank to my ginormous—thanks for the compliment, by the way—cock?”

Twin slashes of red stamped her cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t believe I actually said that.”

“How’s about we really start over? Wipe the slate clean.” He extended a hand. “Hi. My name’s Joe Huroq, and I’m your next-door neighbor.”

For a long moment she stared at his fingers. Then she grasped his hand. “Susie White. Nice to meet you.”

A firm grip, a quick shake, and then she dusted off his hold.

“Dinner at Mama Maria’s? Or should I switch out the gas first?”

“It can wait till we get back. Hang on while I get my purse and find my shoes.” She whirled around, stomped her way to a small table beneath which lay a pair of flip-flops and shuffled into them. She stretched an arm to the coatrack and grabbed a denim saddlebag from a hook, adjusted the purse’s strap, snatched keys from a china saucer, and announced, “’Kay, cowboy. Let’s rustle.”

“Huh?” He knew what she was about, but playing possum would get them halfway to where he wanted. “Care to explain?”

“Let’s have dinner and establish a truce. But it’ll have to be quick. I have to study for a test tomorrow.”

“No problem.” He folded his arms and leaned on the door frame. “You might want to grab a jacket. When the sun sets—”

“For cripes sake. I’m an adult, not a child. And you sound exactly like my brother.” She twisted back and snatched a denim jacket from a chair. “Terri said I was not to bug you about your occupation, but that I’d get a kick out of it. So what is it exactly that you do for a living?”

Fuck, she deserved to be spanked. Hard. He imagined those high ass cheeks pinkened and hand-imprinted, and salivated. “I’m a mercenary.”

“Huh? Really?” She rounded on him after pulling the door shut. Got right up in his face. “You really are, aren’t you? Hen’s feathers. A mercenary.”

“Yeah. Well, that’s all you’ll get from me on that front. Have you eaten at Mama Maria’s?” He shortened his stride when they began walking down to the main road.

“What do you mean that’s all you’ll say? That’s not fair. I mean, how often does a gal meet a
real
mercenary?”

“Once in a lifetime. And that’s it. No more going there. Back to Mama’s—you really haven’t ordered anything from them? And you’ve been living here for two weeks?”

“Three days. I signed the lease two weeks ago, but Terri had to put stuff into storage, and then there was a mix-up with the keys.”

“Mix-up?” He resisted the urge to curl an arm around her narrow waist and cup her butt, feel the muscles flex into his palm.

“Terri’s flight got rescheduled, and she left the keys with Mr. Arnold, who fell and broke his hip.” She gave a slight head shake, and her glossy hair twirled over his bicep.

Maybe he could talk her into doing a little whip and tickle action with those silky strands later.

“Long story. Not worth it, believe me. Suffice it to say, I moved in on Thursday. And no, to answer your first question, I’ve not had the pleasure of eating at Mama Maria’s.”

He’d run into a roller-coaster conversation maze. “Mr. Arnold?”

She waved a hand. “Told you. Not worth it. Terri says Mama Maria’s is a treasure. She said you could OD on the aromas and that the plating is incredibly inventive. And that no one does a better osso bucco. I
love
osso bucco.”

Joe hadn’t gotten past the dreamy, semiorgasmic expression on her face when she said the word
love
, and that was applied to food. What in heck would her expression be when she said
I love your cock?
Blood rushed to his balls.

She looked fantastic, and she smelled wonderful too—spicy, musky, and sweet, with a hint of tomatoes. His dick stiffened, and he clenched his jaw and willed the wayward organ flaccid. He prided himself on his discipline, on his ability to control his sexual urges, and he never sported an unwanted boner. Never.

“Do you eat there often?”

“Almost always when I’m in town. I’m not much of a cook. Mama’s is what a mom-and-pop restaurant’s supposed to be. Warm and friendly with mouthwatering, home-cooked food.”

“Real home-cooked?” She turned to meet his gaze.

“From scratch. The sauce, the pasta. Everything. Mama is one of those old-fashioned Italian matriarchs. Rules the family with a velvet fist.”

Her forehead creased. “Don’t you mean iron?”

“Nope. Velvet. You’ll see what I mean after the first five minutes. How’d you end up renting Terri’s place?”

“It was a real stroke of luck. She was searching for a house sitter, and I needed a cheap place to live. It’s a bit of a pain being so far from the university, but the bus service is good, and I love the area.”

Jesus. She took the bus? Not on his watch.

He’d managed to compile a fairly comprehensive dossier on Susan Elizabeth White and knew the answers to all the questions he’d asked, but the baseline of knowledge, his and hers, had to be established over dinner.

“What’s your major?”

“Nutrition.”

“Did you transfer from another college?”

They reached the entrance to Mama Maria’s.

“No. I didn’t.” The terse, clipped answer didn’t invite further inquiry.

Joe held the door open while she stepped inside. The denim fit her rump like a loving glove, and the ridge of a turquoise thong played peekaboo with the band of her jeans. He loved the new low-rise pants style, the sexy strip of skin where the tank and pants didn’t quite meet, the tantalizing glimpse of the top of her belly button.

“This is charming,” she murmured, scooted over to the wall opposite a wooden bar sunk into a U-shaped alcove, and studied a tapestry depicting a boar hunting party circa the Middle Ages. “It looks like the real thing.”

“It probably is. All the decorations and the furniture are from Italy. Mama’s uncles settled in Florida after World War II, and they brought over the rest of the family in stages. Each family member brought their possessions and when Mama opened the restaurant in 1984, they all donated various pieces.”

“The restaurant’s been open for twenty years? That’s impressive. These days even neighborhood places don’t last longer than three to five years.”

Mama Maria’s didn’t open officially until five o’clock, but the regulars knew the doors were unlocked at noon when Mama came back from the local farmer’s market. It wasn’t unusual to find half a dozen patrons playing dominoes or hearts at the tables opposite the big picture window long before the kitchen began serving dinner.

Mama’s youngest great-grandson, Azzo, pushed through a swing door and greeted Joe with a quirked brow, a quick glance at Susan, and twitching lips. “
Buona sera
. When did you get back, Joe?”

“This morning.”

“Why did Florida’s finest pay you a visit this afternoon?”

Figured. He’d known the whole neighborhood would be abuzz with the news of the cops busting into his home not a few hours earlier. Joe shrugged. “Long story. Trust me. Not worth it.”

Susie snorted, shot him a sidelong glance, and flashed him a saucy, crooked smile. “He’s right on the button on that one. So not worth it.”

And damned if she didn’t fix her gaze on his crotch. Joe grinned as his cock rose to the occasion.

A rosy hue dusted her throat, neck, and face, and she hastily focused on a spot above his shoulder.

Jesus, he couldn’t wait to be inside her hot pussy. Focus. Think with his head, not his throbbing dick. He gave in to temptation, snuck his arm around her waist, and pulled her close.

“Azzo, I’d like you to meet a new neighbor, Susan White. She’s house-sitting for Terri.” This close, her unique aroma cocooned him. She smelled intoxicating—like sunshine and citrus all rolled into a mind-blowing, cock-spewing orgasm waiting to happen.

“Ah, the nutrition major. Didn’t Terri speak to you of us?” Azzo inserted himself between Joe and Susie and circled an arm around her shoulder. “The calorie measurer, yes? I must phone Mama right away. She’s so excited about this.”

Joe glared at Azzo. The boy had recently become the model for several romance novel covers. His muscles boasted muscles.

“Calorie measurer?” Joe shifted the chair so Susie could sit, and hip butted Azzo aside. “Have a seat, Susie.”

“Nice to meet you, Azzo. Yes, I’m the calorie measurer.” She shook Azzo’s hand, set her purse on the table, and draped her jean jacket on the back of the chair before sitting. “Terri told Mama about my major. I’m to do an analysis of her dishes so she can list all the nutrients, calories, etcetera on the menu.”

Joe took a seat opposite Susie. “Terri arranged this?”

“Yes. Thanks, Azzo.” She accepted the leather-bound menu Azzo proffered, and bent her head. “It’s a godsend. Fits into my electives perfectly, and I could use the extra money. I’m getting paid to put what I’ve learned to work. What more can a gal ask for?”

BOOK: Alpha Me Not
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