This Is Love. Nana Malone

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This Is Love - Nana Malone


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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 had had one and only one upside...that she was willing to acknowledge, anyway. James hadn’t been able to break up with her properly. She’d been the one to dump him. By way of a kiss. It was juvenile, but it felt good. To not have to hear the implication You’re not good enough for me. I want someone better. Bennett Cooper and his wicked tongue had put her on top. Wouldn’t you love to be on top of him?

      Oh. My. God. This was bad. Terrible. She didn’t want him. But now her body had Bennett on the libido and it wasn’t going away. This called for reinforcements.

      Dragging out her phone, she video dialed her best friend and started talking as soon as Mel answered. “James tried to dump me and the aggravating neighbor boy kissed me.”

      Her best friend waited two whole beats before speaking. “Honey, let me pop some popcorn, then you need to start from the beginning.

      The popping popcorn was just a metaphor, so Val launched into the retelling of the second half of her night, down to the tongue teasing from Bennett-you-have-no-business-thinking-about-that-man-naked, sliding his tongue in between her lips and making her forget her name.

      When she was done, Mel sat back on her couch. “Okay, first of all, I want that kiss story one more time at a later date, because that is the hottest thing I have ever heard. Second, good riddance on James.”

      “Good riddance? Are you forgetting that I need a date in three weeks? I can’t show up alone again. I can’t take it. And it’s Sol’s wedding. I can’t skip it. But I am not making the trek to Princeton to have my whole family shake their head about how I cannot keep a man.”

      “Okay, good point there, but maybe since hot neighbor boy kissed you, you can take him.”

      Val stared at her friend. “I think you’ve lost your mind.”

      Mel held up her hand. “Hear me out. You keep dating these versions of he who shall not be named.” Marcus, her ex from college. He’d been the perfect guy. Entrepreneur, good-looking. He’d done the whole Jack and Jill cotillion thing. Her parents loved him. But he’d broken up with her just before graduation, because he had political aspirations and he didn’t think she fit the bill of a politician’s wife. She’d been devastated, of course. And her family had blamed her.

      “I do not,” Val muttered.

      “Let the record show, Alejandro and Tyrell and now James. All essentially carbon copies of each other. Stop trying to re-create the past. I mean, did you even like James?”

      “Of course I liked James.”

      Mel raised a brow. “Oh, yeah? What did he taste like?”

      Only Mel understood how Val categorized the men she dated. “I—”

      “Go on, I’m waiting.”

      Val sighed. “He tasted like store-brand chocolate. Bland, overly sweetened and waxy.”

      “See? Who wants to kiss waxy for the rest of their life? And come on, you couldn’t even bring yourself to sleep with the guy.”

      Val’s mouth hung open. “Oh, my God. Would you stop?”


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