The Bad Boy Next Door

Frank sat in front of his computer, unable to focus long enough to write anything. He didn't feel blocked-the story was still clear in his mind-but he was distracted. The kiss he'd shared with Jo the night before kept playing in his mind over and over again. It was better than he'd even dreamed. He'd loved Jamia almost as long as he could remember, but even kissing her was never like that.

Yet Jo wasn't his. She had a husband, and despite the fact that Pete was one of the biggest wankers Frank had ever met, he didn't want to let himself become the other man. He knew what it felt like to have your wife cheating on you, and Frank didn't think even Pete deserved that.

When Frank heard the knock on his door, he frowned. Only two people ever came to his house these days, and Mikey never knocked. That meant it had to be Jo. "Or it could be that pizza I didn't order," Frank muttered as he got up. As much as he didn't want to, he knew he had to talk to her.

Frank expected a guilty, nervous Jo to be standing on the other side of his door. What he didn't expect was for her to launch herself in his arms, kissing him with a fierce passion. Frank's eyes grew wide in shock as Jo pushed him against the wall, slamming the door shut with her foot as she did. She kissed him hard enough to bruise, tangling her fingers in his hair. A million reasons why he shouldn't be doing this ran through Frank's head, but he couldn't do anything but wrap his arms around Jo and kiss back.