This series by Azure Boone is probably my favorite. I can’t WAIT until book 4 comes out!!!
Micah was enamored. Sarah was as beautiful as he’d expect she’d be in normal clothes. White casual shorts that went to her knees, modest of course, and a lavender silk top with a frilly collar, no cleavage. Her auburn hair was down and tucked behind her ears. It was just past her shoulders, as he’d guessed. She always wore it up at the hospital and he’d hoped, maybe even prayed, that she’d wear it down for him. She had on little makeup, just enough to accentuate her natural beauty and it was all he could do to not sit and stare at her. She was putting on a superb act all for him, despite her clearly being nervous. For him, she could surpass any fear, any inhibition. And that was a total turn on in every possible way.
After dinner, she led him to “the office” which turned out to be her back patio on the third floor, scented candles—cedar and sandalwood, he was sure—a plastic table with a bowl of pinecones and two chairs. White. “I was thinking this would be much less traditional, more comfy?” She stared at him closely for the verdict, fully preparing to meet his preference.
“This is nice.”
“Great. Have a seat my dear sir.”
“Yes, madam.”
They sat and she smiled at him like she was just thrilled to have him over, like he were some celebrity all while wondering what approach she needed to take. He recognized that she’d moved their personal space to a three foot distance suddenly. Nice.
“So,” she began, “How do you like the apartments?”
Ice breaker. “I like it well enough.”
“You have a bottom floor, lucky you.”
“Nooo, I’d prefer a third floor like you. I like being on top.”
“Ohhh okay.” She bit her lip and looked down.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” Though yes, he did.
“Meet any neighbors?”
Sex was definitely not a topic she was going near in any shape or form. Yet. “Yes, I met the woman right next to me.”
“Oh? Tell me about her.”
“There’s not much to tell yet. She’s nice. Helped me organize a few things.” Micah looked at her, wanting to smile at how well she didn’t hide her troubled expression. “Is that…a bad thing?”
“Oh! No, not at all. Just be careful, okay? The world is full of…danger.”
He looked down, smiling. “Yes.”
“Did you catch her name? I mean I may know her. Been here…quite a while.” She laughed a little, still not hiding her disapproval very well.
“I probably shouldn’t have opened myself up to strangers so soon.”
“Absolutely not. You did well, don’t be ridiculous.”
“Her name was…I’m bad with names. I think Tammy.”
“Ah. Hm. Can’t say I know a Tammy. So you got settled in okay? When do I get a tour?”
He shrugged. “Never maybe.”
“Okay, that’s fine.”
He was amazed to hear it hurt her feelings. That he let a perfect stranger over and not her. “I was joking. You can come over whenever you want. Maybe call first so I can at least pretend I’m not a slob.”
She smiled knowing he was as OCD as they came, but he noticed it lacked the bubbly warmth. Would she ever fully recover from the other woman announcement? He also wondered why exactly that bothered her so much. He was almost sorry he’d told her but at the same time, desperate to know every reason for this reaction. Possessive he hoped. Fixated even better.
She angled her head, a question on her beautiful face. “You know, somebody forgot to enter your date of birth into the files and I’m trying to recall how old you are exactly.”
He studied her a bit, wondering. “I’m thirty-two. And you are?” He shook his head. “Sorry, I suppose that’s not my business.”
Her face scrunched with cute indifference, “No, it’s fine, it’s just age, not a huge deal.” And yet she bit her lip and wagged her foot rapidly. “I’m thirty-five.”
His cock twitched at this discovery. Another vulnerability. She could never have too many with him. She clearly saw herself as beyond the dating age. A true blue spinster woman. A comical concept with her rare beauty.
“You don’t look thirty-five.”
She laughed a bit louder than normal. “Well…thank you. You certainly don’t look your age either. You mentioned once you had a brother, I believe.”
Therapy time.
“Yes.” She knew he didn’t want to talk about it. But the therapist in her insisted.
“Is he older than you? Younger?”
“He’s younger. And dead.”
Brief silence and then a silky, “I’m sorry.”
His cock jerked again. It did that a lot with her. The depth of emotion he heard in those words was erotic for him, fascinating even. “It’s been a very long time. He died when he was four.”
She was silent but he knew she wanted details. She’d have to work harder for those.
“You have siblings?” he asked.
She cleared her throat a little. “I have four. I’m the youngest.”
“Wow. That’s a lot. I was an only child after my brother.” He hoped she got the hint that he’d like an information exchange. Patience was definitely one of her virtues. But then it was one of his as well.
“How about I tell you a little about myself?”
Micah smiled at the unexpected treasure. He turned in his chair and scooted to the table, mostly to hide his hard on. “I would love that.” Utterly true. She had taken his information exchange bait, and was being honorable by going first. He already knew what he’d tell her when it came time to sharing.
“Well, I had a normal life, maybe even boring by some standards. My mom was a regular Betty Crocker…too bad it didn’t rub off on me. My dad was a philosopher and doctor. He loved William James.” She smiled fondly.
“I see who you took after.” He felt like a young boy at an amusement park for the first time.
“Yes.” She bit her lip, still grinning while delving into her beautiful shoe box of innocent memories. “I loved playing in my dad’s office. The smell of books was just…wow, I still love the smell.”
“So do I.”
She bit her lip again, flashing a look his way. His arousal had colored the words and she’d caught it. So perceptive. He wondered why she looked at him though. To see him in that emotion?
“My mom was forever chasing after me to be girly and I hated it. We were three boys and two girls, and apparently my sister just before me stole all the girly genetics from my mom and she had none left to give me.”
Micah laughed out right at that. “You seem to have grown into your girlie, I think.”
The surprise on her face, or adamant disbelief, crimped her forehead. “I’m so not girlie.”
He chuckled and lowered his head a bit. “Okay. You’re not girlie.”
“I’m not! I’m not into fancy clothes or make up, or jewelry. I even hate shopping!” She seemed desperate to prove her delusion.
“Well, if that is your definition of girlie, then you’re right. You’re not girlie. I thought you meant something else.”
She seemed to relax a little. “I mean I know I look like a girl,” she muttered, fishing for him to elaborate.
“You’re free to believe what you want about yourself,” he said.
“Fine, tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
“What is your definition of girlie.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “I said you grew into your girlie. And I meant you became a beautiful woman.”
Her reaction was one for the books. He’d never seen her look so shocked. “Please doc, you’re far too intelligent and perceptive to not be aware that you’re beautiful.”
“You’re right,” she conceded too casually. “It is rather thick of me to not be aware of my beauty. I can’t tell you how often I’ve been called the blind professor. And with all the guys knocking down my door, how could I miss it? And me being single, well, that sort of just slaps me in the face with it, just amazing that I’ve managed to miss your delusion.”
Micah had to laugh. “So, because I think you’re beautiful, I’m delusional?” He loved being able to say I think you’re beautiful to her face and yet not.
“Oh, stop, enough. And I guess you know how gorgeous you are.”
Micah shifted in his seat readjusting his hard on. Was she playing? Did she really think that?
“I assure you, in a matter of days, you will have every woman knocking at your door,”
she knocked on the table for emphasis. “I, on the other hand, have been living here for seven years and have had zero men, aside from maintenance, knock on my door.”
He was shocked and thrilled. “It’s not my fault they’re blind.”
She became animated in her frustration. “Oh hell, forget it, I’m glad you’re blind to whatever it is they apparently see or don’t see.”
“You’re glad?”
“As in, for your sake, I could care less if you think I’m beautiful or hideous, that is hardly the point of our relationship.”
“Ah. Yes, you’re right.”
“Would you like some coffee? I’d like a cup, I’ll bring you some.”
“Yes, please.”
Micah watched her hurry off, unable to contain his grin. He’d never seen her so flustered. What he’d give to feel what was going through her head in that moment.
Ame - that's A ME! 