Free Instructing Sarah by Anne Rainey Page B

didn’t do something to kick her sex life into gear. If she couldn’t have children and a husband, the very least she could have is some fun.

    Oh, it wasn’t as if she was invisible to men, but none had ever made her want to take off her clothes. She’d had a few boyfriends, but the relationships had always left her wanting more, as if there was something, or someone, out there just waiting for her.

    Sarah yanked extra hard on the weed at her idealistic notions. Her father would roll his eyes and scoff if he knew she was thinking such things. He was a no-nonsense man and his attitude had always been that she was better off never falling in love. Love caused pain, he’d say. She heard him mutter those words thousands of times.
    “Sarah, trust me. I know best. Love is like fog—one minute you can nearly taste it, the very next it’s gone, and you’re left wondering if it’d all been nothing more than an illusion to start with.”

    She’d kept her thoughts to herself and let him rant. He wouldn’t take stock in anything she—a woman—had to say anyway so she’d never bothered to change his mind. Again, she yanked at a weed, realizing too late that it’d been a flower.
    “Damn it!”

    “I’m eternally grateful that I’m not green and growing in your garden.”

    Sarah stumbled at the husky drawl and fell face first into her patch of daffodils.
    She twisted around, careful not to destroy her flowers completely and saw that the voice belonged to none other than Greg Stiles, her sexy, dark-haired neighbor with the brooding good looks that belonged on the cover of a hot romance novel. He was big, standing at the very least, six foot two, and had the solid body that could only be gained by hours and hours of hard work.
    She had admired him from afar for the entire two years that she’d lived at Willow Glenn Condominiums, but he always seemed to be avoiding her, as if it pained him to be in her presence. Too late, she realized she was just sitting in mulch and staring.

    He stood above her, wearing a pair of well-worn jeans that molded beautifully to his hard thighs and cupped his sex in a way that made her mouth water, and a black t-shirt with a rip at the hem. His legs were braced apart, arms crossed over his chest, and a devilish smile was on his handsome face. Great, she amused him. The story of her life.

    “Would you like a hand up, sweetheart?”

    Sweetheart? An endearment, or had he forgotten her name? Most likely the latter.
    Sarah sighed and held out her hand. “If it wouldn’t be too much trouble.” He winked at her, then yanked. She stumbled to her feet, only this time it was to land against Greg's powerful chest. She paused a minute, allowing herself to savor the experience of being embraced by the hunky construction worker. Sarah felt her body respond to the warmth and scent of him in a way like never before. Could she finally have found the man to take her from virgin spinster to seductive siren?

    Unfortunately, another male voice intruded on her delirium. A little too late she realized the intimate way Greg held her and she sprung backwards. Greg gave her a mischievous grin, which made her want to smack him.

    “Hi, thought I’d take this opportunity to introduce myself,” the newcomer said.
    “Name’s Blake Richards; I just moved in a few days ago.” He held out his hand to Sarah first and she was struck by the steely glint in his silver eyes. Unlike Greg, Blake was dressed in a pair of expensive black slacks and a white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar with the sleeves rolled up. The mop of his shining black hair made his gaze seem all the more mesmerizing. She’d seen him moving in. She hadn’t wanted to be nosy, but she’d noticed that he’d moved in alone and she’d been curious about him.
    He’d driven into their complex in a black convertible
    BMW
    and
    he’d
    looked

    mysterious and alluring, drawing all the ladies’ attention right away. But she hadn’t seen him