Yup.That was it.
His feet were up on her coffee table, and he was eating pizza and scrolling on his phone, occasionally scratching his flat abdomen where a dark, love-trail disappeared into his waistband.
Mmm. Lace hummed to herself.
As she walked through the door in this fantasy, he looked up, pushed aside his phone and his food, then threaded one hand down, inside his boxers where he began stroking an enormous hard-on as his lids dropped to half-mast.
Oh, yes.Lace purred appreciably. She couldsoget behind that. Or in front of it. Or on top of it.
What should her reaction be?
She dropped her backpack to the floor, turned, and locked the door, licking her lips and letting her lusty gaze sweep over him. “You want some help with that?” she asked huskily.
Not that Lace had ever considered her voice husky, but this was her daydream, so she could be Scarlett Johansson if she wanted to.
Vincent’s eyes traveled her body. “Get rid of the clothes,” he ordered.
She reached for her top button?—
A car beeped its horn, and Lace popped out of her head.
Goddammit.She was stopped at a light that had turned green.
She ducked her chin sheepishly and waving in her rearview, she stepped on the gas.
Maybe now wasn’t exactly the time to be wool-gathering.
Maybe when she gothomethere’d be a few minutes to let her imagination run rampant before Vince arrived.
Or if he was already there, perhaps…
Gah.She was spiraling into her own head again.
She had to stop that.
If Lace were honest, she’d say her flights of fancyhadbecome more frequent since she’d started chemo; something to do with the chemicals,orit was her form of escapism. Either way, she was going to have to watch it. Tempting fate while driving, or, god forbid, being on the deck of a boat at sea, wasn’t exactly healthy behavior.
When Lace finally pulled into her driveway, Vincent had already arrived, and was getting out of his car.
So much for that “couch-show” she’d imagined.
He gave a wave, then opened his back door and leaned in…
Oh, yes.Now there was a sight she could get used to seeing. Jeans material pulled taut over some extremely fine buns. Notmade-upbuns like in her mind, but real, Sothard, grabbable cheeks.
Lace actually sighed as he stood back up in the rain with a bag in his hands, waiting for her to park and join him.
Fantasy time over.
She turned off her car and got out, giving Vince a huge smile as she dashed for the front porch to get out of the downpour.
“That’s pretty big,” she yelled over the sound of torrents pounding on the overhanging roof, pointing at the bag in his hands as they both shook off like puppies. Lace almost choked on her words because they were sooo close to what she’d been thinking about hisactualpackage, earlier.
“Can’t have you being hungry after your rough morning at sea,” he replied.
If he only knew how crappily she’d been treated today, he’d double down on those sentiments.
She must have scowled, because he responded testily. “Don’t tell me. Captain Dick-wad was at it again.” Vince looked ready to chew nails.