Love Jones For Him by Mia Loveless

drank from the glasses he’d taken from the house. He told her about how, several years ago he’d taken to renovation as a hobby. He’d buy an old house and spend time restoring it just to work off the sameness of his nine-to-nine job in the financial field. He’d grown up working for his dad who’d been in the construction business which handled mostly individual residences. With the skills and familiarity he’d gained of the building process, he was able to apply them to houses already built but which had deteriorated over the years.
    “I always knew exactly which ones were simply in need of tender loving care,” he joked, arm propped over his raised knee, his glass of wine nursed in his hand. “As it turned out, London has a plethora of nice but old buildings that had suffered little or no upkeep over the years. I was careful of what I bought, staying off those that would cost more to repair than just tearing them down and building from scratch. Many just needed cosmetic or minor repairs or redesign work to be nice and pretty again.”
    He shrugged. “I found out that it felt good to take out a lot of my anger or boredom with a hammer on wood. Once the project was finished, I was able to get it sold for twice and sometimes even five times the price I paid for them. And the great thing about it was, I lived in each house while I worked on it – which meant I moved a lot. But I enjoyed the occupation.”
    “So now, this is all you do, right?” she asked, smiling a little. “The do-it-all renovations man. No wonder you seemed so different from what I expected. No disrespect to the everyday working man, but you kind of looked much too delicious in overalls than you should.”
    “Minx,” he teased, a pleased grin on his face as he chucked her chin playfully with his fist. “But you’re right; it’s all I really do now. One morning I woke up and decided I wasn’t going to show up at my fancy high-rise office anymore. I started my contractor firm and haven’t looked back since.”
    “Awesome,” she said with a smile. She reached up and combed her fingers through his hair, loving the luxurious silky feel, and the ease she felt in being able to just reach out and touch him. Damn, she felt so good around him. She thought of what limited time they had to spend together – and how hard it was going to be to walk away when this was over.
    It was easier, as always, to just push those thoughts aside. She hadn’t felt this sensually comfortable around a man in a long time: Gordon made her feel safe, feel like a woman. Everything else might be all wrong; the timing, the circumstance. But time and place didn’t have to matter when being around him made her so happy.
    He was gazing down into her eyes, his look searching, his smile indulgent. Could he read her mind, she wondered? Could he tell how much he’d torn her down? Her defenses, her excuses, they were withering down. She liked him a lot already and there was no way to know what other emotions she was capable of feeling for him. Love? Happily ever after?
    I don’t know, she thought with a pang. All she knew was that his touch, his kiss, felt like the best thing in the world. Just then, a blaze built up in his mesmerizing, glittering eyes. His head began to descend, and she drew in a breath of expectation. He was going to kiss her, she knew. And she wasn’t going to do a thing to stop him…

Chapter Thirteen
    He wrapped his hand round her nape and drew her in for a kiss. She went forward willingly, her lips parting with a sigh. They meshed tongues, pulling and thrusting. Victoria melted into him and he growled deep in his throat at her sweet response.
    “Darling,” he said, making her heart flutter. His voice was mesmerizing, his kiss and touch electrifying. His hand fell heavily on her breast, slipping beneath the bodice and cupping the soft, firm under swell. She drew her lips back a little too weakly protest that someone might pass by on the path and