Lunchtime Chronicles: Passion Fruit

I chuckled. “She decides she’s going to go in his sex club. Undercover.”

“Her police unit supports this?”

“Nope. They closed the case. She’s doing this on her own.”

“I must read this. It sounds really exciting.”

“I’m surprised you would say that. The story isn’t as sexy as bounty hunting.”

He hit me with an intense gaze. “You think my job is sexy?”

“What? Oh. Well. . .yeah. I mean. Of course it is.”

“It’s not sexy.”

“It’s more intriguing than being a romance author.”

“No. Art is important. Books save lives.” He went over to the box spring across from me, picked it up like it weighed nothing, and placed it on the frame. When he positioned it correctly, he looked at me. “Why didn’t your husband or boyfriend help you?”

“I’m happily single.”

He licked his lips. “And open to date?”

My heartbeats increased. Surely, I was looking. Especially when it came to him. The only problem was that he lived right next door. If it didn’t work or he ended up being an asshole, then I would have to see his face every day, regretting my decision over and over. Plus I made a rule that no man I was dating would meet my kids until after six months of knowing him.

I tapped my finger against the glass. “I’m. . .definitely open to date. I just have rules.”

He went over to the mattress. “What rules?”

“I don’t date anyone that lives near me or has a connection to my kids. Teachers. Coaches. Landlord.”

“Neighbors?”

“Exactly.”

“I understand.” He set the mattress on top. “When things go to shit, it’s easier to cut the person out of your life and never have to look at them again.”

“Correct.” I ran my fingers through my hair needing something to do. “Not that. . .you. . .I mean. . .you’re definitely someone that I would. . .date. . .it’s just. . .”

Chuckling, he walked my way, stopped, and towered over me.

Shocked, I looked up at him. “What’s so funny?”

Only a foot of space ran between us. “And I make you nervous?”

“No.” I bit my lip. “Maybe. . .just a little.”

“What else can I do for you?” That deep voice made me think he was trying to fulfill sexual requests.

I swallowed. “What else?”

“I took care of your bed. Do you have any shelves that you need to put up?”

“I do.”

“Then, I’m yours. Work will help me get over your rejecting me.”

“Very funny.”

“I’ve got an amazing sense of humor.” He walked off. “You’re really missing out.”

4

The Maintenance Man

Zain

D

own in the living room, Nadia had a basic bookshelf from Ikea. Nothing difficult. Her friend—Brandy—had left us alone minutes ago, running upstairs to finish getting the boys ready for bed.

And I took my sweet time, enjoying her company.

Smelling so damn good, Nadia sat on the floor next to me, following my lead and inserting wood plugs into the side panel holes with her thumb.

A nervous energy radiated from her. I hoped I wasn’t making her too anxious. I tried to be gentle and as nice as I could be. But it was hard. Her body was curves and sweet softness. She looked warm and perfect for holding on a rainy night.

As she worked with me, I snuck glances. She had a beautiful face—large brown eyes, full lips, and cute cheeks. Her short curls were long enough for me to grip as I fucked her from behind.

Then there was that white shirt. From the window, it hugged her breasts just right. Close up, the shirt was nothing but thin material over round breasts.

In seconds, I could pull her to me, yank that flimsy shirt down, and play for hours.

She doesn’t date neighbors? That’s fine. We’re still going to date.

I had rules too. I didn’t date single mothers. But she was too sexy to pass up.

Fuck that rule.

There was no way I would sit back and watch unworthy guys go in and out of Nadia’s house, trying to love her and failing.

“Okay.” She beamed with pride. “I finished these panels. What’s next?”

I smirked. “I’ll attach the left panel with screws.”

“O-kay. I think the little IKEA tool is. . .” She got on her knees and crawled over to the corner.

I paused from what I was doing and drank in that fat ass. It was so wrong what she was doing, showing that soft roundness to me. My cock jerked in my jeans. She had no idea of the effect she was having on me.

“Wait. Is it over here?” She continued to bend over and search the box.

I actually had that tool in my hand. “Maybe, it’s deeper in the box.”

“Probably.” Her ass jiggled as she rummaged through it.

Gazing at that ass and those shapely thighs, I went semi-hard. “You know what? It’s right here.”

“Oh.” She turned around and crawled over to me. Her breasts bouncing a little with the effort.

Oh, you’re definitely going to be on my cock by the end of the week. I can’t resist.