So Toxic(Bad Boy Next Door Book 4)(3)

Her hands fist at her sides as she hardens her stare. Her nostrils flare just a hint as she sucks in a deep breath.

Okay, here we go.

I grin.

She props her fists on her hips. “You’ve got a ton of nerve. You move in here, rob people of sleep, and then refuse to do the smallest thing to help a person out. Now, you—you proposition me? Gah. I can’t even…”

She whips around and storms away, nose in the air. She’s doing a fairly good job of stomping off and acting pissy…until her toe catches on an uneven break in the sidewalk. My heart lurches as she pitches forward. In what seems like slow motion, she flies, arms out in front of her, landing hard on her hands and knees.

Her head drops. Her shoulders heave with a sigh.

I chuckle.

Her fiery eyes find mine and narrow.

I cover my smile with my hand, trying to play it off like a yawn.

She must not buy it, because she growls—a bona fide, wild animal-sounding growl.

I’d better help her up.

I step off the porch, but she’s on her feet before I get to her. She stares at her scraped palms.

I take her delicate hand to check the damage.

“I’m fine, no thanks to you.” She snatches it away with a little huff.

Wait.

“What did I do? You’re the one who tripped.”

“Only because I came over here to ask you to move your bed—which you refuse to do.”

I let my gaze drift over her curves, from her calves to her hips to her tits.

Man, she looks as good as she ever did.

Definitely fuckable.

I never made a move on JoJo way back when because I never deserved such a sweet girl. But there was a time when I’d have done pretty much anything to get into those yoga pants if I’d have thought I merited having her.

Shit. Who am I kidding? I’d probably do almost anything these days to slip between those thighs.

She swipes a lock of hair from her face, and I can just imagine the boiling heat that must be rising in her to bring that pink tinge to her neck and cheeks.

The breeze blows the hair across the corner of her mouth. She ignores it and continues glaring.

I capture the strand of hair caught on her plump bottom lip and roll it between my fingers.

She takes a big step backward out of my reach. “Are you going to move the bed or not?”

I wonder what would it take to get lil’ Miss Uptight to pop a vein and really lose her shit?

“I’ll tell you what. We can move my bed together. Rock that thing from one side of the room to the other.”

She looks up at me, disgust radiating from her like heat off the hood of a car on a hot summer day. “We can, can we?”

Her eyes widen as I lean in, a breath from those lickable, kissable lips. “Sure thing, JoJo. I can guarantee the best ride of your life.”

I step closer. She edges away like she always did when I got too close. I take another step, and another, until her back is against the trunk of the tree just off the sidewalk.

Her jaw drops a fraction, and then she snaps it shut, scrambling away from the tree and me, all but jogging toward her side of the yard. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t do—well, whatever it is you do on your bed. I’m just asking that you do it across the room, so I don’t have to hear a blow-by-blow every night while I’m trying to sleep.”

I wink. “Oh, there’s definitely some blowing going on. When you want to find out what kind, let me know. In the meantime, why don’t you move your bed?”

Josephina’s arms stiffen at her sides as she stamps her foot. “I did, you moron. Just move the bed, or I’ll have to call our landlord.”

The landlord? Damn. She means business.

I grin, loving the chance to make her squirm. “You go ahead and do that. As a matter of fact, let me save you the phone call. As we speak, he’s snoozing on the couch inside. Want me to wake him for you?”

Her brow wrinkles. “He’s…on your sofa?”

“Roommate. Wanna chat with him now, or let him sleep and do it later?”

Her shoulders slump as she mumbles something and turns toward her door.

Damn. I wanted to see her lose her cool.

“You know, JoJo…it’s for the best. You aren’t really my type.”

She stops and whirls to face me. “And exactly what type is that?”

I shrug. “The type that doesn’t run around with a banana stuck up her ass—or on her ass, as the case may be. Even if it is as nice an ass as I’ve ever seen.”

Josephina’s eyebrows knit and her mouth falls open. She twists one way and the other, trying to see her butt. Finally, she brushes the blackened banana peel from her backside. When it hits the ground, she stomps it three times as though it’s a giant spider.