by Calista Fox
Well, aside from her own hot monkey sex…
* * *
A sharp clap of thunder ripped through Alex Reed’s Gainey Ranch condo. Lightning flashed, illuminating his dimly lit dining room/kitchen combo. Fat drops pelted the windowpanes.
Above the ping, ping, ping of rain, he heard the dead bolt on the front door crack. His head snapped up. He stared across the open kitchen to the door.
The second lock sprang free, and he shot to his feet.
Son of a bitch. A home invasion in an upscale Scottsdale community? It was a gated property, for God’s sake!
He stepped around the rectangular, glass-top table where he’d sat, his laptop fired up, his small plate of sliced baguette chunks and foie gras terrine positioned alongside his computer at ten o’clock, his wineglass perfectly aligned at two.
Baseball bat, he thought. Hall closet.
He started in that direction. But then he wondered who the hell would break in with keys…
A second later, the sound of the knob twisting filled the room, and the tornado that was Alex’s best friend blew in with a gust of wind.
Alex started. Not in a million years had he expected to see Lola Vonn rushing through his front door.
She yanked a large Rollaboard behind her as she stepped inside. Lola drew up short when she saw him.
“Holy shit!” She gasped as she pressed a hand to her chest.
Her very ample, enticing chest.
“You scared the crap out of me!” she declared.
“I can’t imagine why,” he said. “It is my condo.”
She gave him a feisty look. His pulse hitched a notch or ten at the sight of her. Was he hallucinating? Fantasizing about her when he should be doing his quarterly taxes?
“What the fuck?” he muttered, completely caught off guard.
Lola’s gaze dropped to the mangled umbrella in her hand. “I know, right? It’s a torrential downpour out there. Crazy-wicked monsoons. I mean, look at my umbrella. Totally ruined. It’s Burberry, goddamn it.”
Alex shook his head. No hallucination. That was his Lola.
“Well, it is August,” he reminded her. “There’s rain in the forecast practically every day this week.”
“Then my next stop will have to be the mall, for a new umbrella.”
“I have several spares.” They were talking about the weather and umbrellas? With a quizzical look, he asked, “What are you doing here?”
From head to toe and back up, he took in the secret object of his never-ending desire as his lust warred with shock over her sudden intrusion.
“I wanted to surprise you.” She grabbed the keys from the knob and pocketed them. Then she slammed the door shut and locked it. “You should be on your way to Seattle right now.”
“Trip got canceled. The client dropped us. Went with a cut-rate insurance company instead.”
“Bastards,” she said in his defense. “Who wants a cheapo industrial risk insurer when millions or billions of corporate dollars are at stake?”
“My thoughts exactly.” He waved a dismissive hand. They so easily got off-topic when they were together. “You never said you were coming for a vacation. And FYI, those keys I gave you are for emergency purposes only. I could have clobbered you—I thought you were a burglar.”
“I’m not on vacay,” she told him, stunning him yet again. And ignoring his comment about the keys. Eyeing his glass at the kitchen table, she said, “I’ll explain over wine.”
“I was just scanning receipts. Let me clean everything up and we can drop your bag off at your parents’ and go out for dinner.”
“I ate on the plane. And I’m not staying at my parents’ house. They’re on a cruise.” She gave him a vibrant smile as she added, “I was hoping to hang with you for a few days. A week or so, maybe.”
“What?” Disconcertment shot through him.
Alex didn’t host overnight guests. He lived a very neat and orderly life, and knew sharing his space with anyone would only create chaos, the likes of an entropy change that would result in a thermodynamically irreversible state.
With Lola, it would equal chaos plus a twenty-four-seven hard-on.
Jesus, he couldn’t focus on insurance deductibles and coverages—or his personal bookkeeping—when his mind was occupied with thoughts of getting tangled in the sheets with her. Which would be impossible to control if she stayed at his place. Hell, it was impossible to avoid those fantasies when she was clear across the country in Baltimore.
“Oh, come on, Alex,” she pleaded. Her sparkling smile, which revealed an endearing dimple in her left cheek, made his gut twist and his cock twitch.
Down, boy.
Lola Vonn was the stuff wet dreams were made of, with her mile-long legs, luscious body, and silky blonde hair. Even having weathered the storm outside, she was the sexiest drowned rat he’d ever laid eyes on. And it wasn’t just his eyes he wanted to lay on her.
Move on from that idea. Fast!
He lurched forward, grabbing her umbrella and dumping it in the base of the coat rack, to be discarded later when he took out the trash. Then he helped her escape her lightweight raincoat and hung it on the peg he’d designated specifically for her. Turning back, he said, “You’re dripping all over my hardwood floor. I just had it refinished.”
Alex ducked into the laundry room and then returned with a towel. He knelt down to wipe up the small pool, but Lola let out a soft, seductive laugh.
He stared up at her.
“Seriously?” Her brow lifted.
Alex sighed. Sometimes he got things a little out of order because of the OCD. He straightened and handed her the towel. “Sorry.”
“Thank you.” She rubbed the wet strands of her long hair.
He left her once more and snagged the Swiffer from the linen closet to mop the floor.
“Anal much?” she quipped.
“I don’t like messes.”
“Which makes it so bizarre that we’re best friends.”
True. But from the time she’d kicked a soccer ball into the side of his Stormtrooper mask–shaped sand castle in the second grade, he’d been hooked on her. Had officially fallen in love around the seventh grade. And had lusted after her ever since. Though she had no clue. He intended to keep it that way. Guys like him didn’t score babes like her.
He dumped the wet towel in the hamper in the laundry room, threw away the now-damp but spotless Swiffer pad, and returned to the foyer to give her a hug, barely noticing that she drenched the front of his shirt. He’d suffer an additional dry-cleaning bill to have her in his arms.
“I’ve missed you like crazy,” he said. “You look great.” And felt even better. Her breasts nestled below the ledge of his pectorals, her hard nipples pressing against him.
“Ditto on both counts. And jeez, Alex. What’s with this brick wall of a chest you’ve got going on?”
She untangled one arm and splayed her palm over his muscles, her fingertips dangerously close to the flap of his shirt, where the first few buttons were undone. He couldn’t help but mentally will her to skim her hand over the exposed flesh. He burned for her touch.
“You’ve been working out,” she murmured, as though in awe.
“Couple times a week.” A total understatement, but whatever. He wasn’t in the mood to talk while Lola admired him. While her body melded to his and he inhaled her alluring, floral scent. She reminded him of lilacs in the spring.
“I’ve hated not seeing you every day,” she said.
“I’ll second that.”
Gazing up at him with a mesmeric expression on her delicately sculpted face and a glimmer in her sky-blue eyes, she asked, “Where are your glasses?”
Alex didn’t release her, stealing a few more minutes of her shapely body against his. “Backed over them with my car,” he teased.
“Then how the hell did you know it was me who came through the door?”
He chuckled. “The perfume and grand entrance were a dead giveaway. Aside
from that, I went the Lasik route last month.”
“I didn’t even know!”
“Surprise.”
She studied him carefully, something indiscernible flitting over her beautiful features. She gave a slight, perplexed shake of her head, and the indefinable emotions that had been swirling in those bright irises of hers vanished. She simply said, “Wow, big difference.”
Alex’s gaze narrowed. Was it his imagination, or was she the tiniest bit breathless over him?
He groaned inwardly.
What a fucking ridiculous thought.
Lola gave him her adorable pout. “I’ve missed all your big successes. Lasik, and what about those last two accounts you recently landed—your biggest ones yet? We didn’t get to celebrate in person.”
He tried to dial back his own emotions. And the fire roaring through his veins. “The scotch you sent was a nice pat on the back, thank you. Though I really loved the Batman suit–patent artwork you framed.” Which now hung in his living room, along with two original Andy Warhols he’d inherited from his grandmother.
“Glad you enjoyed.”
He asked, “You quit your job to move home?”
“Nope. Got a promotion. If you’ll recall, the Staci Kay Marketing, PR, and Sales departments are located here in Scottsdale.”
“I owe you congratulations, then. And hot damn—welcome back.”
Not that Alex didn’t immediately realize what a much greater chore it would be to keep his hormones in check with her around. Lola got him going in a heartbeat. Adrenaline pumped through him and he felt sexually charged from head to toe.
And the way she’d looked at him only moments before…Damn if that didn’t make him want to press her up against the door, plow his fingers through her damp strands, and kiss her senseless.
Until she burned for him.
But now was hardly the time for sexy Lola fantasies. Even if she did continue to stare up at him with those glowing eyes that always did him in. Along with the pretty smile and beguiling dimple.
Her cheeks were rosy—from the weather, he figured. Though he preferred to think the splash of color against her smooth, porcelain skin was more the result of being in his tight embrace, her hand still on his chest while her other arm was wrapped around him, her palm flat against his back.
She wore crimson-colored gloss on her tempting lips and her shallow breath was laced with spearmint. A crisp scent to complement the lilac fragrance clinging to her skin.
He had the insane urge to kiss her. Christ, all he had to do was back her up a couple of feet and he’d hold her captive between the wall and his body. An all-too-tempting prospect.
Still somewhat winded, her firm breasts rose and fell just below his pecs. As though excitement hummed through her veins.
Did it?
For that matter, did she have any idea how aroused he was? How thoroughly hypnotized? Because of her.
Alex had no idea. Lola didn’t offer any nonverbal clues.
She did, however, continue gazing provocatively at him.
“I know you don’t like crashers,” she said in her sultry voice. “But I really want to stay, Alex. My new apartment is ready tomorrow, but the property manager called me yesterday to say my first choice had suddenly opened up. A corner unit with an amazing view of the city from Camelback Mountain. They need a week to get it ready for me. And I just thought…a hotel is way too impersonal. Lonely. Not to mention expensive.”
He grunted. “Then stay at your brother’s house.”
Finally, Lola unraveled from him. As though she was just as reluctant to lose the physical contact.
Giving him an imploring look, she said, “Jace and Meg—the newlyweds—are on the cruise, too, so it wouldn’t be any fun there.”
Panic edged his blazing desire. “I’m not really prepared for an overnight guest, Lola.”
She laughed, so soft and feminine. “You have a second bedroom that is fully furnished and no one has ever slept in it.” Wickedness tinged her voice as she said, “Let me christen the bed.”
She winked. His groin tightened.
Really, the last thing he needed was Lola sleeping in such close proximity to him. Parading around the condo in something sexy and slinky. Slipping into a bubble bath, all naked and wet and—
Oh, hell.
Excitement shot through him. He raked a hand through his hair.
Get a grip, man.
She’d be onto him in a heartbeat if he didn’t get those sizzling thoughts out of his head.
Alex wasn’t her type. She wasn’t his.
Yet he wanted her.
Welcome to my twisted little world.
“What do you say?” She pleaded once more with her baby blues, batting her long lashes the way she did when she tried to talk him in to something. Like when they were sixteen and had snuck onto a golf course to go ice blocking.
What sort of fools sat on a block of ice while someone pushed them down a grassy hill?
Then again…it had been an interesting physics experiment on friction—’til the cops came. Alex had freaked over an arrest for trespassing marring his record, keeping him out of the honors program at college, for which he’d already been evaluated. But the officer had been cool about the whole thing, since they weren’t drinking or out past curfew. Just having harmless fun instead of being rowdy teenagers.
Lola had dared him to do it again the next week. A dare from Lola Vonn was somehow too appealing to pass up. Making him a bit of a masochist.
But not this time.
With a shake of his head, he said, “You’ll leave water rings on my end tables and put CDs in the wrong cases. That’ll drive me nuts, you know it. I found Beethoven in with the Battlestar Galactica DVD set once. That’s basically sacrilege—it’s the original 1970s series.”
“I promise to use a coaster. And I won’t listen to the CDs or watch DVDs. I have my tablet with iTunes and Netflix. You won’t even know I’m here.”
He continued to hedge. “You don’t exactly blend into the woodwork, Lo.”
She flashed a bright smile again, all straight, pearly white teeth. “You know you can’t resist me. I’ll just wear you down until you say ‘yes,’ so you might as well save us both the time and energy.”
“You make me crazy.”
“But you love me anyway.”
More than you know…
She was right, though. He never could resist her. Whatever Lola wanted…
Long before they’d even heard the catchphrase, she’d embodied that motto—back when she was just seven years old, a fun-loving free spirit with springy blonde curls and that adorable dimple.
“Fine.” He caved. As always.
Throwing her arms around him, she said, “You’re the best. I won’t get in your way, I swear.”
She detangled herself and pulled her suitcase across the room. He followed, hot on her high heels.
“No cooking,” he demanded. “You burn everything. And no emptying the dishwasher—I’ll never figure out where you put my ramekins. And just, well, you know…try not to touch anything.”
“Oh, Alex,” she scoffed with a wave of her manicured hand. “What’s life without a little clusterfuck from time to time?”
Christ. This was going to be a disaster of epic proportions. He knew it already.
Lola went in the direction of his guest bedroom, luckily located on the opposite side of the condo from his room. She wouldn’t exactly be sleeping next door.
As if that would keep him from wanting to crawl into bed with her.
“I’m gonna unpack and take a shower,” she called out. “Long day flying from Baltimore, and I’m practically soaked to the bone. Then some wine and a catch-up?”
More temptation staring him in the face? Best to get the hell out. Regroup.
“Uh, you ought to relax and get some rest,” he insisted.
“Yeah, probably a smart idea,” came her muffled voice. “I want to be in tip-top shape for my first day tomorrow.�
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“Good thinking.”
And he needed to get his raging lust under control.
Stopping at the kitchen table, he shut down his laptop and then put away the terrine. He dumped his wine, washed the glass, and returned it to the overhead rack. “I’m going for a beer at Pete’s.”
“Tell him I say hey.”
Alex left, braving nature and driving to the small bar in Old Town Scottsdale. He slid onto a stool with thoughts of a sexy blonde stripping down to nothing in his guest bathroom.
Pete Murray cracked the tap on Alex’s favorite amber brew and set the pint in front of him.
“You look like hell.”
“Thanks,” Alex grumbled. But he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind the bar and had to admit that his friend was right. His dark hair was windblown from the storm, but the dire look on his face was all Blondie’s doing. He combed his fingers through the damp strands, loosened his tie, and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Tried to appear less rocked to the core of his being.
“What gives?” Pete asked.
“Lola’s back in town.”
“Oh, shit.” He laughed—an empathetic one. “No kidding?”
They’d all grown up together. Pete had been in on the ice-blocking expedition.
“She’s staying with me until her new apartment is ready.”
Pete’s light-brown eyes popped. “No one ever stays with you—not even your parents when they come in from Florida. They might put something on the wrong shelf in your refrigerator and throw off the whole food-group balance. Or forget to return a stool at the breakfast bar to its proper forty-five-degree angle. Knowing Lo, she’ll do it on purpose just to get a rise out of you.”
Alex glared at him.
“Oh, that’s right,” his friend taunted. “She does that without even trying.”
“Asshole.” Alex smirked.
Okay, so his secret obsession wasn’t one hundred percent secret. Pete had lusted after Lola for a while, too. He’d been smart enough to get over it.
“And by the way,” Alex said, “my parents prefer the Four Seasons.”
“Whatever. Face facts, man. Lo’s had a rack to rival Pamela Anderson’s since she turned seventeen. So we know they’re real. And all that blonde hair and those long legs and that mind-blowing body…Dude, she’s been a nonstop hard-on since junior year.”