BLOG TOUR
Key To Her Heart by Ellie Rice
EXCERPT
Stone
What a ridiculous waste of a night. I couldn't sleep for shit because I couldn't get HER off my mind. My dick was rock hard half the night and semi-hard the rest of the night. I had to jerk it off before I came downstairs. Hell if I was going to have Celine see me with a hard-on! That being taken care of, I shrugged on a pair of cotton lounge pants. I didn't bother with a shirt or shoes. The only sound in the quiet house was my bare feet hitting the tile. Luckily, I was the first one up, so crisis averted. I was going to need a shit-ton of coffee in me to get through the day, so I started a pot. I had half of it down when she walked in the kitchen.
Fuck. Me.
She was wearing nothing more than a thin light pink tank top and a very short pair of sleep shorts in the same shade of pink. The girls who wore pink were always these giddy, immature creatures. They were girls, not women. Constantly giggling at stupid shit. The sound made me want to stab myself in the ears with hot steel rods. Suddenly, all I could hear was Aerosmith singing of the virtues of pink, my new favorite color.
She wasn’t wearing a bra. Her perfect tits were outlined by the material. I saw the entire outline of her nipples through her top.
Great, now I’m fucking hard again.
She stopped when she saw me. At first, I wondered if my obvious woody scared her, but I was hidden by the island buffet. There was no way she could see it. Her skin blushed all over. What could she be embarrassed about?
I was holding the coffee pot in my hand. I raised it and asked, “Want some?”
She blushed even more. Damn, she looked so fucking good. It took every bit of strength I had to keep from laying her down across the counter, right now.
Valerie let go of a shy smile, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah, I could really use some coffee.” She sat down at one of the breakfast bar stools.
Coffee? Oh yeah, I’m holding the fucking pot. Pour her some coffee, shithead!
I took a mug from the cabinet and filled it. “Creamer?”
She nodded.
“There’s French vanilla, hazelnut or half and half,” I called from the open fridge.
“Hazelnut,” she answered.
Great, she even drinks her coffee the same as me. Sweet. Twinsies! I snickered at my own sarcastic thoughts and shook my head.
“What’s so funny?” She bristled.
“Easy there, killer. I was just noticing that we drink our coffee the same way and thought Twinsies,” my voice took on a sing-song tone. I fisted my hands under my chin and raised my voice as I said Twinsies like a stupid teenager. I rolled my eyes at myself as I turned to get the creamer from the fridge.
Smooth one, Stone.
She laughed. I turned and stared at her, completely dumbfounded. She had a great laugh. It was nothing like girls who wear pink giggling like brainless zombies. I had no desire to gouge my eardrums.
She cocked her head to one side. “Twinsies, huh? That’s a word I would have bet my life I would have never heard come out of your mouth.” She was smiling brightly. She looked like an angel.
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