In Her Neighbor’s Bed
Angie Daniels
--the Sexy Simmons Series--
Copyright © 2011 by Angie Daniels
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now know or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used factiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
For questions and comments about the book please email the author at [email protected] or visit www.angiedaniels.com.
Dear Readers,
Welcome back to Delaware! In our last episode, all of the Beaumont children were happily married and living in fabulous Sheraton Beach. Even their cousin Diamere had been reunited with his one true love, Kelly. Ahhh! There is nothing sweeter than a happy ending, even if it marks the end of the series.
Several of my readers requested stories about some of the characters introduced in my Beaumont Series. Well, your wish is my command. Get ready to meet Sheyna’s sexy older brother, Scott.
I got tickled writing this story. So go, curl up on the couch, and get ready for another adventure. You might even see a Beaumont or two, making a cameo appearance.
Enjoy,
Angie Daniels
In Her Neighbor’s Bed
Chapter One
“Enough is enough.”
Zanaa Reynolds slammed the door of her silver Jaguar then marched up the sidewalk toward the condominium she’d called home for five years.
Until three months ago, she couldn’t have imagined living anywhere else. La Chateau Condominiums had every amenity: reserved parking, tennis courts, a fitness center, walking trails around a picturesque lake, and more. But as of this moment, she was seriously considering putting her property on the market.
Zanaa strode toward the third door on the left, her high-heeled burgundy suede boots lifting her hips into an elegant sway under the expensive tailored suit. She moved like a woman on a mission and she definitely was on one. She had to give that thief in Number 113 a piece of her mind.
Once again, her newspaper was missing from her front step, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know who’d taken it. It wasn’t the first time.
It definitely wasn’t the second. In fact, Scott Simmons had gotten so comfortable helping himself to Wednesday’s newspaper he’d made it a habit. What was even worse was after he was finished, Scott had the nerve to roll the newspaper back up and return it to her porch as if she wouldn’t have noticed the difference.
Well, she noticed.
Zanaa pressed her index finger on the doorbell, paused three seconds and applied pressure again. While she waited, she tidied her long, dark brown hair, making sure it hadn’t fallen from the tight knot at the back of her head. She was about to ring the bell a third time when the door was snatched open. The second she saw what towered before her, she was snatched open. The second she saw what towered before her, she forgot her anger, forgot the reason for her visit. All she could do was stare as Scott Simmons gazed down at her with mesmerizing intensity. There was also no way to ignore the warmth seeping through her veins, or the fact her entire body began to respond.
Scott, the epitome of sexy, was what every woman dreamed of calling her own. Sexy was there in his face, his chiseled body, and dark bedroom eyes. He was by far the finest man she had ever met. Hair styled in short locs looked amazing against a handsome, almond-colored face with deep, dimpled cheeks and a broad nose. And his mouth…his beautifully, delicious mouth, surrounded by a neatly trimmed goatee, was perfect and downright tempting. When Scott took the liberty of sliding a tongue across his lips, Zanaa felt a pull at the pit of her stomach. There was no denying it. Ever since she had knocked on his door three months ago to welcome her new neighbor to the community, Zanaa had found herself attracted to him. Even now it was taking everything she had to ignore the emotions brewing.
Inhaling deeply, Zanaa took her time looking him over. His height, towering at six-three, was hard to miss. As usual, he was casually dressed. He wore a thermal shirt that defined his chiseled arms and chest.
Jeans hung low on his hips. As far as Zanaa was concerned, Scott would look simply gorgeous in just about anything.
Scott leaned against the doorjamb. One hand rested on the door, the other hung by his side as he surveyed her with lashes so long they brushed his cheeks. “Hello, Zanaa,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers.
She released a shaky breath at the sound of her name falling from his lips. It was as soothing as a lullaby.
“H-Hello,” Zanaa managed, barely above a whisper. It was hard to think with Scott standing there, his head cocked to the side, staring down at her. She felt exposed and vulnerable, yet unable to draw herself away from the intensity of his eyes.
Zanaa was used to men staring, admiring her looks. She didn’t believe she was as pretty as her two sisters, but attractive enough to draw attention. There were men who preferred her voluptuous curves and the little extra junk in her trunk. She’d heard the catcalls and saw the way little extra junk in her trunk. She’d heard the catcalls and saw the way heads turned when she passed, and neither fazed her. Yet there was something about the way Scott looked at her that was so different from any other man. As if he knew something she had yet to figure out, making her body heat with anticipation.
As Zanaa continued to survey him, Scott’s gaze lowered to the pulse jumping at her neck. She swallowed when his eyes moved to her breasts where they lingered before sliding the entire length of her body down to her boots. The cool December air brushed her skin where his gaze caressed, causing her teeth to chatter. Scott took his time returning his gaze to hers, and when he did, his round, dark brown eyes sent her a silent message. I want you.
With a gasp, Zanaa found herself wanting to breathe, Yes. The reaction startled her.
Confidently, Scott lifted a brow and grinned, giving Zanaa an opportunity to say what was on her mind. Only she couldn’t. The little voice inside her head quickly reminded her, the new independent Zanaa Reynolds didn’t have time for relationships. She’d gotten a whole lot farther in life alone and didn’t need another Cole to promise the heavens and the earth, only to deliver emotional hell. But even with that reminder, her body, so long denied, was aroused by her neighbor who, with no more than a look, promised to make her feel like a woman. He promised seduction and hours of sexual pleasure she knew without a doubt he could deliver. A sensuous shiver glided down her spine at the thought of those lips tasting and suckling her in all the right places. There was no denying the desire stirring inside her.
A dog barked from inside the condo drew Scott’s attention. Now that he had averted his probing gaze, it was easier for Zanaa to remember the purpose of her visit. With a silent sigh of relief, she pulled her shoulders back and shook off the effect Scott had over her mind, not to mention her body.
“Zanaa, is there something I can do for you this fine evening?” he asked, returning his attention to her. His deep voice spread warmth along her veins and he shifted closer.
He was trying to intimidate her, Zanaa realized. Taking a step He was trying to intimidate her, Zanaa realized. Taking a step back, she kept her face composed because there was no way she was going to let him know it was working. “I would like my newspaper,” she announced with a stubbo
rn tilt of her chin.
“Excuse me?” Scott said, amusement dancing in the depth of those sexy brown eyes of his.
Her mouth tightened. “I know you stole my newspaper off my porch.”
She watched his lips twitch. “You do? How do you know that? Are there cameras posted around here I don’t know about?” He made a show of stepping out onto his porch and glancing up at the telephone lines.
“Listen, I don’t have time for your silly games,” Zanaa snarled.
“I’ve had a long day, and I would like to go home, read the sales ads, and relax.”
Scott leaned in close and brushed her earlobe with his warm lips.
“I know a better way to relax. How about coming in and having dinner with me? I even have a bottle of wine chilling in the refrigerator.”
When he reached out and brushed her hand with his, her skin tingled, and a warm feeling curled Zanaa’s stomach, settling right smack between her thighs. Dinner with him? There was no way she could share a meal with this gorgeous man without making a fool of herself. Besides…
she didn’t even like him.
She stepped away from his touch and clung to the last thread of anger, using it to fight back the growing rush of want. “I don’t think so.
Now hand over my newspaper and I’ll be on my way.”
Totally ignoring her comment, Scott folded his arms. “Why won’t you have dinner with me? I’m trying to be neighborly.”
In a matter of minutes, Zanaa had decided that not only was he handsome, but there was a natural arrogance about him that demanded having whatever he desired. Especially from women. Scott was the sort of man women fought over, would do anything including something downright dirty just to get his attention. And judging by the frown on his face, he was obviously not used to women telling him no.
Too damn bad.
“Because I don’t feel like having dinner with...” Zanaa’s voice trailed off as her eyes traveled down to a white Husky that had trotted to the front door.
Her jaw dropped. Not because she was afraid of dogs. In fact, she’d grown up with Labradors and adored animals. What had her blood pressure rising was what she spotted the dog holding in its mouth. Her newspaper. Although it was still rolled up inside the plastic, she knew it was hers.
“Is...is that my paper?” she gasped, outraged as she pointed at the dog, who was now sitting near Scott’s feet.
Scott looked down, a slow smile curling his lips. “Well, I’ll be damned. I guess it is,” he replied with a hearty chuckle that made Zanaa’s pulse quicken. “Henric, boy, give me that.” Obediently, the dog dropped the paper to the floor and Scott scooped it up. “I think we have a little thief on our hands. Here you go.” With a grin, he held out the newspaper to Zanaa, who looked down at the plastic covered in dog drool and turned up her nose.
“You’re right,” she said through gritted teeth. “There is a thief in our neighborhood, and that person is you.” With that, she swung on her heels and marched one door down to her condo.
“I guess that means I shouldn’t expect you for dinner?” Scott said just as she turned the key in the lock. Zanaa gave him a sidelong glance and discovered amusement lit his eyes. “I promise you an evening you’ll never forget,” he murmured.
Zanaa’s insides quivered at the seductive invitation. She took a moment to compose the wild thoughts overriding her sanity and remember the kind of woman she’d worked hard to transform into after Cole’s betrayal. You can’t afford to be seduced by another untrustworthy man, she reminded herself.
Scott awaited her response in the ensuing silence, only the sound of their soft breathing punctuating the space.
After a prolonged moment, Zanaa finally replied, “An unforgettable evening to me is spending it alone.” And without another word, Zanaa stepped into her spacious condo, drawing air deep into her lungs as she fought back the anger that had her all riled up. Damn that man!
She couldn’t believe the way she had allowed him to get to her.
She shed her coat and hung it on a rack near the door, then rested her hip against the butterscotch-colored wall while she removed the stylish suede boots from her aching feet.
That man was going to be the death of her. If she had any sense she would contact a Realtor tomorrow and put her condo on the market.
Better yet, she should try and press charges against Scott for stealing.
Zanaa released a heavy groan. She knew she was probably overreacting, but right now she didn’t care. As long as she remained angry with him, the less chance she had of thinking about how much he turned her on.
She moved through her condo, padding through the open and inviting space that included nine-foot ceilings, formal living and dining rooms with hardwood mahogany floors, and a galley-style kitchen with African beige granite countertops.
Zanaa retrieved a bottle of water from the stainless-steel refrigerator, screwed off the cap, then brought the drink to her lips and took a long, calming sip.
How about coming in and having dinner with me?
Scott’s invitation echoed through her mind, causing her nipples to tingle. Regardless of how aggravating he was, she couldn’t deny the man turned her on. A woman would have to be blind not to appreciate the bedroom eyes and those sexy locs in his hair. She felt a throbbing down low at the thought of him touching her all over with his massive hands.
There was no doubt in her mind that Scott was amazing in bed.
And that’s probably all he’s good for, she thought with a scowl as she headed down the long hallway to the master suite. She had to do something about Scott Simmons. He had invaded her comfort zone.
Her brain.
Her body.
As far as she could tell, the man either didn’t have a job or worked nights because he was always at home. Zanaa frowned at that idea. Scott had to be employed. How else could he afford to live in this upscale part of town?
Probably living off his parents, she thought peevishly.
The last guy she had dated spent his days on the golf course and his evenings at the clubs, enjoying the nightlife and running up tabs by using his parents’ accounts. No more spoiled rich kids for her. Not that she was even remotely considering Scott’s dinner invitation, she quickly told herself. They had absolutely nothing in common. Nothing. Well, except maybe a love for dogs.
Zanaa sighed as she thought about his hairy sidekick. She had considered getting a dog herself, but given the long hours she worked as a wedding planner, she’d decided it would be unfair to leave an animal alone for so many hours each day.
As Zanaa entered her bedroom, decorated tastefully in lavender and cream, she found herself wondering if Scott could cook. He had invited her over for dinner. Or had he planned to order take-out?
Why are you wasting your time thinking about him?
Zanaa frowned. Scott was only interested in getting her into bed.
She knew those types. He wasn’t interested in settling down. He was another Mr. Right Now. Well, she wasn’t at all impressed. If and when she was ready for another relationship, she wasn’t going to settle for anything less than a loving commitment. However, love was the furthest from her mind. Been there. Done that. She knew how bad love hurt. She had felt it firsthand, had seen it with her own two eyes, in her own bed.
Cole with another female.
It hurt more than anything she’d ever experienced. Mostly because the woman he had cheated with had been her cousin, Monica. Although three years had passed, the betrayal still hurt, no matter how much she tried to convince herself the experience had made her stronger and wiser.
As she slipped off the black pencil skirt and burgundy blouse, her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. At the thought of having to rummage through her freezer for something to eat, dinner next door sounded more tempting than ever.
Quit thinking about that!
Zanaa was certain the second she’d declined Scott’s offer, he had gone inside and made other plans. He prob
ably planned to hit the club scene in the next few hours and bring home one of those scantily-clad women who always looked like they were auditioning for a music video.
As Zanaa changed into sweats and a T-shirt, she found herself wondering what was Scott’s type. The women she saw parading in and out of his condo were all shapes and sizes. Tall, short, petite, thick, light-skinned, dark-skinned. Short hair and long. It was impossible to know exactly what he liked.
Why do you care? her conscience mocked.
She shook her head. She didn’t care…not really. She was just curious.
Moving over to a mirror in the corner of her room, Zanaa turned from side to side. At five-six she would give anything to be tall like her sister Paulette, and slimmer in the hips like her younger sister Barbara.
Instead, she was built like the women on her father’s side of the family.
Average height and weight, large breasts and plenty of ass and legs.
When the phone rang, startling her, Zanaa was glad for the interruption. She had wasted enough time thinking about Scott Simmons.
She walked over to the nightstand and picked up her cordless phone. “Hello?”
“There’s my girl!”
A smile curled Zanaa’s lips at the sound of her grandmother’s voice. “Hi, Madea. How are you?” She took a seat on the end of her sleigh bed.
“Not too bad for a broken down old lady.”
Zanaa giggled. She’d always gotten a kick out of the way her grandmother called herself “broken down.” Eighty-two-year-old Margaret Reynolds walked a mile every morning and didn’t believe in eating anything that wasn’t cooked at home on her stove. Absolutely no artificial sweeteners or preservatives for her. She believed eating smart and working out was proof of longevity, and as a result, Madea was healthy and looked better than some women twenty years younger.
“Glad to hear it,” Zanaa said. “I called over the weekend but Mother told me you were out with friends.”
In Her Neighbor's Bed (The Beaumont Series) Page 1