Some Like it Hot - J. D. Light
Why did I always do this? I blamed the fact that I had far too much time on my hands… and despite the fact that I could be pretty confident in most cases, that did not translate to my conversations with Grant Foster. Those usually ended with me saying something horribly embarrassing, and him just grunting back at me. I still wasn't sure if he was making fun of me when he did that, or if he was just doing it to get me to shut up.
Unfortunately, regardless of how poised and confident I could be on camera, and how funny I could be online, or even usually in real life, the alpha that lived a door down from mine, who always looked at me like I spoke a completely different language than he did, and who was sexy as fuck, even as he seemed to do everything in his power to seem unappealing, made me unbelievably, embarrassingly incapable of doing things like a normal human being.
Which was why I found myself standing in front of his door, hesitating only a moment, before reaching up to knock on the white wood, hating myself just a little for it, and wondering when the man was finally going to get sick of my bullshit, and tell me to stop bothering him.
"Hi," I said brightly, clutching my bowl to my chest, while smiling widely. "Do you have a cup of sugar I could borrow?"
I groaned internally. I'd meant to switch it up this time. Maybe ask for some flour or butter, or anything but sugar, since that had been the excuse I'd used the last five times, but apparently, I'd somehow developed the easiest habit imaginable, because instead of saying anything else, I'd opened my mouth and let sugar fall right on out.
The man probably thought I sat around and ate spoonfuls of free sugar all the time. I was sure by the sheer amount of take-out to show up at my house, he knew that my culinary skills were lacking considerably, so he had to know I wasn't using the stuff for baking.
He grunted, nodding slightly like he always did, while stepping back to let me pass.
I raked my gaze over his delicious form, noting how his thin, gray T-shirt molded to the curve of his pec, and down over his chiseled torso. The material was thin enough to easily make out the shape of his nipple, and the slight roughness that indicated he was fairly hairy under there, and I growled slightly, covering it with a cough when I imagined dark, nearly black hair spread across his chest and abs, and disappearing down into his dark jeans.
"You can come in," he grumbled after a moment, raising an eyebrow at me. "I won't bite."
What if I asked nicely?
He raised a second eyebrow, blinking, and I had a slight moment of panic as I worried I might have said that out loud, but when all he did was give me a small nod in the direction of the interior of the house, I felt pretty confident that he was just waiting on my stupid ass to move.
Once inside with the door shut, I turned to him, and he came up short, frowning slightly as he looked down at me, and I did my best not to look like I was completely smitten as I gave him a small smile, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible as I took a long deep breath, pulling as much of his scent into my lungs as possible.
The man always smelled so damn delicious. Rich and almost nutty. Bitter-sweet. It made me think of mornings spent on the front porch when I still lived at home, a huge cup of coffee clasped happily in between both hands, while I listened to the birds greet the sun.
I was more than a little infatuated with his scent, and I knew it, but I couldn't seem to help it.
He reached out toward me, and I gasped slightly, looking up at his handsome face and then back down at his hand, not entirely sure what to think. In all the time that I’d known the man, he'd never even insinuated that he wanted to touch me, so for him to reach for me was surprising, but if he wanted to touch me now, I sure as hell wasn't going to fight him on it.
I swallowed hard, looking up at his pretty green eyes, before stepping even closer, almost moaning as his