Page 107 of Finally Mine
If she doesn’t need a hero, what can I be to her? If I’m not a hero, what am I?
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“What is so important that you dragged me away from my very boring life of missing my deployed boyfriend?” Harper asked, skipping into Gloria’s apartment on a Saturday morning. Lola and Max, leashes tangled, stampeded inside and made a dive for Gloria’s couch.
“I need your help seducing Aldo.”
Harper’s iced coffee slipped from her grasp and fell to the floor. “Shit! Shit! Sorry!” She scrambled for the cup. “You were saying?”
“We haven’t had sex yet.”
“But all the smoldering! You two practically set things on fire when you’re together.”
“I know! But I can’t get him to pull the metaphorical trigger,” Gloria lamented, grabbing paper towels to clean up the spill.
“I seriously thought you guys were basically naked at all times.” Harper flopped down on the couch next to Lola and gave the dog a face squish. “Can you believe Auntie Gloria and Uncle Aldo aren’t banging like bunnies? Lola can’t believe it either.”
Max, sensing a human without a dog, launched himself off the couch and danced at Gloria’s feet. She picked him up and snuggled the little dog to her chest.
“I think he’s scared,” Gloria confessed.
Harper blinked. “Aldo? Aldo Moretta?”
“That’s the one.”
“Well, knock me over with a feather and call me Sally.”
“Well, Sally. I put my ex-abuser in prison for the next twenty years or so—with a stop off at the hospital for a concussion. I’m renowned through town for being a goddamn hero. I just got a raise at work for completing my probationary period. So, I’m ready for my happily ever after. And that involves orgasms. Dozens of them. Hundreds. Thousands. For that to happen, we need to move Aldo off of first base.”
“Have you done anything?” Harper asked looking morbidly curious.
“Oh, yeah. And it was magnificent. And he immediately shut down. And I want more. I’m seeing him tonight, and if he doesn’t end up naked and spread eagle on my bed, I. Will. Die.”
“Got it. Okay. What time’s he coming over?”
“Six.”
“So we’ve got eight hours to destroy Aldo’s vow of chastity,” Harper mused.
Gloria chewed on her lip. “Can it be done?”
“G, I’ve seen the way he looks at you like you’re the last cupcake on the buffet. He wants to devour that cupcake. We’re going to push him over the edge.”
* * *
Seven hoursand thirty-two minutes later, Gloria was ready for battle. She was wearing a tight black blouse that was unbuttoned low enough to show a peek of new and very flattering black lace beneath, cropped pants that made her ass “look like its begging to be bitten” as Harper promised, and red, sky-high heels.
Her nails were done a deep red that matched her lipstick. She’d gone smoky on the eyes and light on the perfume.
She poured herself a glass of wine and surveyed the space. Dinner was ready. Grilled chicken, Caesar salads, and oven-roasted vegetables. And for dessert: whipped cream.
Aldo Moretta didn’t stand a chance.
She hit play on her phone, and low, bluesy music played softly through the little wireless speaker she’d borrowed from Harper. The sheets on the bed were freshly laundered. She’d even sprung for new pillows in case dessert turned into an all-night feeding frenzy.
There were candles ready for lighting if the mood needed a little boost and more wine for nerves.
Harper was a diabolical genius. Gloria had no problem seeing how she’d landed the reluctant, reclusive Luke. No one could withstand her. She was glad Harper was on her side.
