little mewling sound in the back of her throat, and Bennett lost his mind.
With that sound, she completely erased the present for him. No longer were they in the hallway with an audience, but they were alone, wrapped in a cocoon of just the two of them. Muttering a groan, he tested and delved his tongue inside her parted lips, and she responded by welcoming him with a slide of her own tongue.
She tasted sweet and hot, and so damn decadent that he automatically slid his hands down her back to tuck her against him.
But then something intruded into their space. Into their little safe haven. It wasn’t her. Her nails dug into his shirt pulling him closer. And hell if he didn’t want to be closer. He’d explore that little tidbit later.
There were words. Not his, not hers, other people’s. Then the fog started to lift from his brain. Right. Carlton’s twin and...oh, yeah, Adriana. He didn’t want to stop kissing her, though. But he wanted to do it when they had more time, because just kissing her was enough to set his whole body on fire.
“Excuse me, Bennett.”
Tearing his lips from Valentine’s, he dragged his eyes open. He acknowledged Adriana’s clipped words, but he couldn’t look away from the neighbor, who up until now he’d always thought of her as the Pain in the Ass. “Yeah, Adriana?”
“Are we going to look at the artwork?”
Artwork? Artwork? What? Oh, yeah. He turned slowly. “Do you mind if I bring them by Voss later this week? I didn’t realize Valentine was going to be home, and with our schedules—I know you understand.” More like no way in hell are you coming into my apartment.
She narrowed her eyes at Valentine and tipped up her chin. “Fine. We’ll talk later.”
“Sure thing,” Bennett said. He held his breath until the elevator doors closed on Adriana. Then he turned his attention back to James. “You’re still here?”
James’s mouth hung open, and Valentine stared. Bennett just kept his arm tucked around Valentine’s waist. She didn’t move away, nor did she say anything.
“Y-you two are together?” James asked.
Bennett held his breath. What was she going to say? Would she go along with the charade?
When she started to speak, her voice was deeper, huskier. “Yeah, James. This is actually why I wanted to go to dinner tonight. When you started to break up with me, I figured I’d let you take the out. This obviously isn’t working. And Bennett and I are a...” Her voice trailed off as she cleared her throat. “...a thing.”
Bennett bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Sure. Thing worked. “Hit the skids, James.” The guy looked like he was going to argue, but then Bennett tucked her against his side more firmly. How had he never noticed how sexy she was? She was petite, but her body was a dream. And her soft breasts pressed into his side were a hell of a distraction.
James scowled and rolled his eyes, but with a muttered epithet or two under his breath, he headed down the hall for the elevator as well.
The moment the guy was out of earshot, the two of them jumped apart and Valentine rounded on him. “What the hell do you think you are doing?”
“Are you kidding me right now? I just saved you face. No humiliating breakup. Or do you mean to tell me that you wanted that sweater vest–wearing asswipe to dump you?”
“Where do you get off?” she muttered through clenched teeth.
It wasn’t his fault. Honestly, it wasn’t. But his lips twitched. He sometimes had the humor of a twelve-year-old boy. “Isn’t that kind of a personal question, considering we just had our first kiss? But if you must know, the sho—”
Her eyes widened to saucers, and she covered her ears. “Oh. My. God. Do not share. You know what, from now on, you keep you and your thoughts to yourself.”
Bennett grinned at her. “Come on, admit it. That was the hottest kiss you’ve had in months, if ever.” Valentine’s mouth hung open as she blinked at him. Once, then again. Then she snapped her mouth shut, stepped back into her apartment and slammed the door in his face.
Oh, yeah, that went well.
Bennett Cooper was an arrogant, inconsiderate, rude jerk. He had women in his place all the time, and besides his music, sometimes she could hear...his other activities. Not that she was listening.
Her loft unit and Bennett’s were both on the south side of the building, and they both had wraparound decks that met in the middle. She faced the southwest and he the southeast, and both of them had a stunning view of lower Manhattan. She’d picked this building because it had a doorman, and it was exclusive.
Her foodie app and lifestyle brand had taken off two years ago, and her blog had blown up. Unfortunately that meant unwanted attention, making the doorman a necessity. But instead of exclusivity, she’d ended up with a neighbor from hell.
Val leaned against her door, too afraid to look through the peephole to see if he was still out there. Just the thought was enough to make butterflies dance low in her belly.
Slipping her feet out of the three-inch stunners, she slid her back against the door until she landed on her butt with a soft plop.
Touching her lips tentatively, she went over every distinct flavor and smell of him. The reason she was so good at what she did, the reason her blog and her brand were so popular, was her superior sense of smell and ability to taste all the ingredients and ferret out specific scents. Though her innate ability made her an anomaly, it also made her excellent at her job, and in a controlled environment her hyperosmia didn’t get in the way of her normal life. For the most part.
Growing up had been difficult, though. Every smell assaulting her everywhere she went. And if someone couldn’t cook, God help her. She could practically taste where things went wrong just from the aroma alone. And the bummer of it was she loved food. From burgers and cheesesteaks to filet mignon. But it had to be flavorful and it had to be good, or she couldn’t eat it.
Her current problem was, while she loathed Bennett I’m the Neighbor from Hell Cooper, the man smelled good. Like better than good. Like steal one of his T-shirts and tuck it under her pillow good. In a totally nonstalkery way. He smelled of sandalwood and musk. And that odor set her every nerve ending on high alert in a good way. The scent of him still clung to her, and she just wanted to hug it to her and breathe deep.
Yes, she had problems. The other issue was the man tasted incredible. Tonight he’d had scotch. The good stuff. Something smoky and divine. He also tasted a little like mint. Not the kind that had so much sugar added that it obscured the taste of the actual mint. And there was something else there. Something sweet and delicious that she could eat all damn day, with one of those tiny dessert spoons where one bite was so decadent and delicious, you had to savor every bite. Yes, that was how he tasted.
And that was why this was trouble. Because he was the devil. With too much charm and far too much arrogance. And also because she’d never be able to look at him again without thinking about how good he tasted. Like she needed that headache.
And then, of course, there was James. Bennett Cooper kissing her
