Tour Stop, Excerpt & Giveaway: Glitter & Greed by Melanie Munton

After knocking on Cat’s door, I remained on edge until the moment it swung open. Three more seconds and I would have been tempted to kick it down, just to make sure she hadn’t looked through the peephole, seen me, and then climbed out the bathroom window.

Wait, was that a…ball of yarn in her hands?

Her eyes widened as her fingers tightened around the tangles of yarn. “Hi.”

Fuck, she was adorable.

It was a completely different look from the sex pot vixen I’d become accustomed to. The loose pajama pants and tank top made her appear even younger than her twenty-three years.

“Hey.” I pulled my eyes up from her red-painted toenails and held up my toolbox. “I came to fix the showerhead. Sorry I didn’t call first.”

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she stepped aside. “No, it’s fine. But I told you not to put this on top of your to-do list.”

Did this woman not realize that she was the only thing on my to-do list?

“Seriously, you’re doing me a favor by saving me from more paperwork downstairs.” I jiggled my toolbox. “Be a pal and give me an excuse to avoid it?”

Chuckling, she waved me through. “Come on in.”

The first thing I noticed when I stepped through the door was the piles of multicolored yarn strewn all over the couch and coffee table. That, coupled with the crochet needles I saw poking out of the ball in her hands, raised some interesting questions.

She winced. “Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.”

“You hosting a knitting bee in here?”

She choked out a mirthless laugh and attempted to organize the yarn chaos. “Not quite. It’s sort of how I relax. Bet you don’t see that every day, huh? A stripper who crochets?”

I shot her a disapproving look. “Is that really how you see yourself? Just a stripper who crochets?”

She froze with an armful of yarn, her gaze still downcast. “No…I guess I don’t.”

“Then don’t give anyone else permission to say it either.”

Eventually nodding, she resumed her cleaning. “Crocheting just forces you to be still and busy at the same time, you know?” She waved me off. “That probably doesn’t make any sense.”

“Actually, it does.” More than she knew.

When your body is demanding you to do one thing, and your mind is coaxing you to do another, insisting it’s good for you, but you just don’t know how to satisfy both while keeping yourself sane at the same time.

When her gaze lifted, I quickly averted mine. I was letting too much show on my face, I could feel it.

“Here.” She bypassed me into the bathroom. “Let me show you the problem with the shower.”

I followed her into the small bathroom.

And stopped dead in my tracks the second I crossed the threshold.

Christ in Heaven.

My jaw hit the fucking floor.

I couldn’t help but wonder how cruel and merciless God really was if he was willing to orchestrate this. Cat’s lacy bras and delicate panties were hanging up all over the damn place. Flung over the curtain rod, dangling from the towel rack, thrown haphazardly over the sink. Satin and silk in all colors of the goddamn rainbow were being shoved in my face.

And every one of those pieces of lingerie had touched Cat’s delectable body.

Those bras had hugged her luscious tits all day.

Those panties had cupped her pussy.

She had come into one of those pairs, because of me.

Her exotic hazel eyes widened to the size of basketballs. “Mierda.” She frantically started ripping all the items down. “I’m so sorry.”

I nearly shouted in outrage as she took them all away from me. “I’ve seen underwear before, Cat. Hell, I’ve seen your underwear before.” And what half of your body looks like without any underwear on at all.

She swallowed thickly.

I could have almost found the situation humorous if it wasn’t for my monstrous—and increasingly problematic—boner.

Saving her from having to respond to that, I lightly nudged her out the door. “It shouldn’t take me too long. I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

The bras and panties were just the beginning. Because I never once stopped to consider how the entire goddamn shower would smell like Cat. Her shampoo, her body wash. The loofah she used to scrub every inch of her caramel skin. The images of her running her soapy hands over her perfect body made my chest constrict. Tracing her nipples. Drifting down her stomach. Lingering over her center. The pads of her fingers grazing her swollen pussy lips—

I should have just called a damn plumber.

Shelling out a couple hundred bucks for a job I could easily do myself would have been infinitely better than enduring this fucking torture.