Dirtiest Little Secret

“How long have you owned it?”

“A year. I would have been done with it a long time ago, but the shop really picked up, and I haven’t had time or energy to get back to it.”

“It’s so peaceful out here.” She handed him the phone and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“Jeremy and I used to come out here to kill time. When he came home on leave, we’d take rides through the country. This place had been abandoned for as long as I can remember. We’d always stop here, sit on the concrete walls of the porch, and bullshit, talk about life, his tours, our troubles. Sometimes we’d shoot tin cans out back.”

She sighed and hugged him close. “I know it’s no consolation for losing him, but it’s great that you two had such a close relationship while he was alive.”

He nodded, feeling like she got him. Really got him. “I live on those memories.”

“Show me the in

side.” She took his hand, pulling him toward the house while she walked backward with an adorable grin and flashing blue eyes. “I’m especially interested in the bedrooms.”

The way her flowy skirt bounced around her knees made his body ache. “And I’m especially interested in getting you to one of those bedrooms.”

He unlocked the door and pushed it wide, then stepped aside to let her cross the threshold. Construction equipment and supplies were piled in various corners. Some rooms were torn down to the studs, some partially drywalled. Isaac found himself holding his breath. He’d never shown the house to anyone. Not his parents, not friends, not clients. He’d just referred to it as “the project.”

She gasped as she walked into the foyer. The grand staircase curving to the right always took him a little aback, and he found himself thrilled she obviously felt the same.

“Oh my God, that’s gorgeous.” Her sincere love of the house warmed him. She ran her hand over the chipped and weathered banister. “I can’t even imagine how stunning it will be when it’s refinished.”

He gestured toward the different rooms. “Main living room is in there, formal dining there, and the kitchen is that way. Bedrooms are upstairs.”

But Isaac only had eyes for her gorgeous legs as she strolled into the living room.

“Oh my God, a Bösendorfer.” The reverence in her voice pulled his gaze up, and Isaac found her hand sliding over the top of the baby grand. She turned a grin on him. “You play?”

“No. Jeremy was the musical genius.” He shrugged. “My mom would make me do my homework at a table in the living room while he practiced to keep us both within view, but I secretly loved hearing him play, so I never complained.” Ava gently lifted the key cover, a familiar movement he’d watched Jeremy make thousands of times. “Do you play?”

“I do.” Her hand slid over the keys. “But I haven’t played in months. We had a Steinway growing up, but I’ve played a lot of different pianos and always wanted a Bösendorfer. Something about the sound, the fluid movement of the keys, the notes…” She played a slow scale on the ivories, and the sound resonated through the otherwise empty room, creating ripples of familiarity down Isaac’s spine. “But my parents needed a Steinway. Somehow, they believed the name aligned them with the elite, when in reality, they were just ignorant about quality pianos. I’ve discovered they’re far more ignorant than even I realized.”

He followed her to the bench and sat, then pulled her sideways onto his lap. “My father was the one who got Jeremy started, but his arthritis keeps him from playing now. It sat unused for years after Jeremy enlisted. I guess they saw my house as the perfect opportunity to move it through the family.” He laughed at the irony of it, something so expensive and elegant in his ramshackle foreclosure. “Maybe they thought I’d try my hand at it. Or maybe my mom knew how much I loved hearing Jeremy play. I don’t know. It’s ridiculously out of place, but it holds a lot of sentimental value.”

He slid a hand over the length of her smooth thigh beneath the hem of her skirt, over her knee, and back up, sneaking beneath the fabric for more skin. Ava hummed with pleasure and dropped her lips to his neck. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you.”

“Same.” He stroked her thigh again. Warm, soft, supple. “Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

“Nope.”

He didn’t think so, but he felt better about letting his mind turn to sex now that he’d asked. One more slow sweep of his hand up her thigh, and he let his fingers drift toward the heat at the apex, brushing her panties. She hummed. “Do you want more of this?”

She sighed. “Yep.”

He pulled his hand from her leg, gripped her waist, and lifted her off his lap, turning her to face him. “Slide those little panties off.”

Her smile was both sexy and shy, but she held his gaze as she lifted the edges of her skirt to slide her thumbs into the hips of her panties and ease them down her legs, keeping her body strategically covered with the fall of her skirt. She let the silk drop to her feet, then bent forward, resting her hands on his thighs, and kissed him. Gently. Letting her tongue trail over his lips. The smallest gesture from this woman could turn Isaac inside out.

He reached behind her and closed the piano’s key cover, then lifted her off her feet and settled her ass on the wood. Ava laughed and planted her hands on the cover to hold herself steady on the narrow ledge.

Isaac used one foot to pull the stool close, sat, and looked up at her. “Open your legs.”

Ava’s blue eyes sparked. She pulled the corner of her lip between her teeth and slid one thigh to the side, then the other.

Isaac gripped her ankles and pulled her feet to the piano bench on either side of him. He let one hand trail up her calf, along her inner thigh and beneath her skirt. “I may not play the piano,” he murmured, “but I bet I can make Ava sing.”

A nervous laugh slipped through her lips just before he stroked the backs of his fingers across her hot, soft pussy. Ava murmured a sound in her throat.