Adrienne Giordano

by Relentless Pursuit

  “I know, but I need to get cleaned up. I feel nasty.”

  Kristen stood in the entry marveling at his ability to be so completely at ease in his nakedness.

  Not to mention the erection he was sporting. Even a mess, the man was stunning.

  She averted her eyes. Ignored the heat swirling up her legs into her core.

  She scooped his shorts from the floor and turned away from the open bathroom door. Even if he didn’t need the privacy, she’d give it to him. “I’ll take your shorts home and wash them.”

  The shower went on. “Thanks,” he said, “they stink. The shirt is toast. I’ll toss it.”

  Not knowing what else to do, she shoved the wet shorts and underwear into the laundry bag from the closet and set the bag by the door. She might as well put a call in to the hotel doctor for antibiotics.

  Yes, that’s it. Distract yourself from the gorgeous man in the shower. The man who quite clearly, assuming her vision was indeed twenty-twenty, needed some form of sexual release. And here she was. Outside the door. A woman who hadn’t had sex in eleven point two months.

  Call the doctor.

  Maybe Billy took fast showers and would be done any minute. Right. Fast showers. She moved to the desk, dialed the operator and asked her for the doctor’s number. And still, the shower continued.

  “How the hell long does it take to soap up?” she mumbled as she pounded the doctor’s number into the phone.

  A wallet sat on the desk and she straightened it, aligning the corners with the edge of the desk while she blurted a message to the doctor’s service. She hung up and eyeballed that damned open door. Couldn’t he have at least closed the door?

  “Are you okay?” she yelled? Because I’m not.

  “Outside of the arm, I’m good.”

  He’s lucky he didn’t lose that arm. And still, the shower remained on. Good Lord, what could he be doing in there? Or did she really want to know?

  To hell with it. She walked back to the desk, opened his wallet—forgive me for snooping—and with her chest about to explode, looked inside. Yep. Condom. Men were so predictable. Still, she was glad for it.

  She unbuttoned her blouse, dropped her skirt, ditched the bra and panties and stood naked for a second, praying he wouldn’t suddenly pop out of the tub and see her. The bathroom light needed to go.

  Now or never. She’d just shut the light, close the door and slide into the shower with him. In a windowless bathroom, it would be dark enough he wouldn’t be able to see her.

  She hoped.

  * * *

  Billy stood under the stream of hot water, his good arm braced against the wall while he contemplated his erection. Nothing unusual after seeing action. No, the unusual part was having a woman he cared enough about to not bang standing a few feet away.

  Shiznet.

  He glanced at the blood oozing from the wound on his arm as the water washed it away. Butt ugly. The bathroom suddenly went black and he shot to his full height.

  “What the—”

  “It’s me,” Kristen said.

  The day was looking up because, to his delight, she stepped into the tub behind him. Please let this be heaven. He started to turn, but she placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “Don’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Did you see me?”

  He stared at the tile in front of him. “No.”

  And then she wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged that amazing body to him. Oh, yeah.

  She kissed his shoulder and held him there. Well, this was a smoking way to end a gator attack. Could gators be kept as pets? Maybe he could fake a daily gator attack?

  Mindsnap.

  “You could have been killed.”

  He leaned into the shower spray, bringing her with him and let the hot water soak them. He’d have to turn the water ice cold before they were done. “I think that’s what they were counting on.”

  “I’m so sorry.”

  She kissed his shoulder again, pressing those gorgeous lips—among other things—into him. Even if it was pitch black, she’d never gotten completely naked with him. And the way she was holding him, running her hands up and down his torso. Total frickin’ chaos.

  “Kris?”

  “Yes?”

  “You feel good.”

  Slowly, he lifted his hands from the wall. “It’s dark. I can’t see you. I just want to touch. Is that okay?”

  She stroked her hand over his chest from behind. “You could have been killed.”

  “I just want to touch.”

  No argument. Maybe he was getting somewhere. “Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  Three seconds later his hands were everywhere. Breasts, stomach, legs. Every inch he had touched while wearing that damned blindfold had to be revisited. Not that he could see anything, but the sensation of skin against skin was not lost on him.

  She kissed him, glued herself so hard against him his body splintered, slowly, like a wall crumbling from a slow leak, a piece at a time. And, unless she’d gone completely numb, there’d be no missing what his body had in mind.

  But who the hell could blame him when all her lush skin fried him. He had to have her. Had to.

  He backed her into the wall. Please, let this be okay.

  From somewhere, who knew where, he felt something prick his skin and he backed up an inch to find her holding something. He reached for it. Condom.

  He needed this. Needed the release. Needed her. “You sure?”

  She nodded. Done deal. No talking necessary, thank you very much. He took care of the condom and inched her back against the wall. She wrapped one leg around him.

  “Give me the other leg,” he said.

  “I’m too heavy.”

  He trailed kisses down her neck. “Kris, I just wrestled a gator. You got nothing on that bitch. Lift up.”

  His suggestion was ignored and the panic shooting off her, the swinging of her head back and forth while she pushed herself away closed in. Billy touched her cheek to hold her steady and kissed her. “I’ll hold you.”

  “I’ll fall.”

  “I won’t let you. I won’t let you fall.”

  She quit moving. “You won’t fall.” He hoped she’d finally believe it.

  The answer came when she slid her hands up his arms and around his neck, drawing him closer. Thank you. He scooped her up, let her settle her legs around him and held her against the tile as water ran down his back and side. “Okay?”

  She nodded.

  He slid into her, gasping at the immediate pleasure. Damn, he needed this.

  “Thank you.” He sank farther into this luscious woman who, from the second he’d seen her, had him completely undone. And knowing what he needed, she put her own hang-ups aside and stepped into this shower.

  If this was love, he wanted more of it.

  From her. A woman who had enough patience to deal with his hyperactivity and sometimes poor self-control. Kristen Dante might be the poster child girlfriend for ADD sufferers.

  “I’m cooked.”

  “What?” she said.

  The sound of her voice, breathy and tight, destroyed him. “You’re never leaving this shower. I’ll keep you to myself.”

  His orgasm building, he pushed into her, hoping to hell he wasn’t hurting her, but needing the release.

  His knees gave for a split second as the orgasm tore through him, and Kristen jerked, reaching out to grab onto something to hold. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

  Still against the tile, she dipped her head forward, rested her cheek against his shoulder. “Thank you.”

  “No, thank you.” The slide of her leg over his hip indicated he should set her down. Once on her own power, he pressed her against the wall and kissed her for what would never be enough time. “I owe you one.”

  “Yes, you do. I plan on collecting.”

  “Got time now?”

  She tapped his injured arm. “Not if you’re going to bleed all over
the place. Let’s see if the doctor called back.”

  “Spoilsport.”

  “I’m trying to take care of you.”

  “Don’t yell at me for saying this, but you already have.”

  “No yelling required. I enjoyed it as much as you did.” She linked her fingers with his and squeezed. “I’ve never done this before. It’s crazy fun.”

  “Hell to the yeah on that one.” He smacked kisses over her face. “Any time you want a do-over, just holler.”

  Except, she was reaching to shut the water off. Do-over aborted.

  “I’ll holler. Now it’s time to fix up that arm. I’ll get out first. You stay here.”

  In the dark, he made a what-the-fudge face. Back in hang-up land? How the eff did it happen that fast? “Kris. Seriously. We just got really, extremely friendly and you’re throwing a mental cow over me seeing you naked. I’ve pretty much got the picture in my head. It’s a great picture, so put the damn light on.”

  She stepped out of the tub and closed the curtain again. “No. Getting into the shower with you took every bit of confidence I had. Before you, I’d never have done it. Baby steps. Please?”

  From behind the curtain, he sighed. “Whatever.”

  “Now you’re mad?”

  Fucking A he was mad. Not that he’d be stupid enough to admit that because surely, surely, that would be a cataclysmic screw-up that would get him an ass whooping. How many times had that happened? Too many to count and he was supposed to be working on this effing filtering thing. But it was so goddamn hard that sometimes he thought his head might explode.

  “I’m not mad. I’m disappointed. I don’t understand how we could have just pounced each other like we did and you still won’t let me see you in the raw. I mean, really, I had my hands all over you. What’s the difference if I see?”

  “Give me a second.”

  That was her answer? He squeezed both fists, felt the pain shoot up his injured arm and hissed. Dammit. This nightmare of a day was making his brain mushy.

  So fucking tired. The relentless pounding in his brain never stopped. Never. Stopped. He smacked his lips together, pressed them tight. How much could a man take? “You still think I’m gonna run in terror if I see you naked?” He snatched a towel from the shelf and wrapped it around him before swinging the bathroom door open. Already, she was in her skirt and buttoning her blouse, pissing him off even more. “Or maybe you think I’m going to compare you to someone else? Your sister maybe? Who, by the way, I’ve never seen naked. How the hell could I even draw that comparison?”

  Kristen’s mouth hung open in a look that told him he was dead. Total meat. That filter, or lack thereof, had royally fucked him. He threw his hands up. “Time-out. Totally unfiltered and shitty of me.”

  But M.H., with her hands on those gorgeous hips and her green eyes shooting body armor piercing bullets didn’t look so forgiving. “Not fair to bring Jess into this when you know I have issues with her perfect body. That’s evil, Billy.”

  True. “It’s your hot button and I hit it. I get that, but guess what? I’d never consider comparing you to your sister. She doesn’t come close to you. Not in her dreams. Get over it.”

  She shoved her tangled, wet hair away from her face, gripping her head with both hands. “Because you say so? Because if people don’t fall in line with what you think, they’re obviously wrong? That’s crap. The world doesn’t work for you, Billy.”

  “I could spout off at least half a dozen reasons why it would be stupid to compare you to your sister. The first one being your sister is a slut.”

  “Hey!”

  Billy had the distinct impression he just—again—screwed the pooch. “Your sister has banged half the Eastern seaboard. I know that’s not a shock to you.”

  Her face contorted into a tight rage that scared him a wee bit. “She’s still my sister. Maybe she’s disrespectful to me, but don’t talk about her that way.”

  “I should lie?”

  “No, no, no.” She jammed her feet into her shoes. “You are not going to make this about you being the king of truth.”

  “It is what it is.”

  Kristen shook her fists at him. “This is your problem. You think because it’s not a lie that you can just say it. That it doesn’t matter because it’s the truth according to Billy. Well, dumbass, there’s a little something called courtesy and you calling my sister a slut hurts me. And don’t give me that garbage about you missing the impulse control filter. I get it about the ADD and how overwhelming it is when your own thoughts and urges feel out of control. But you’re a grown man. Stop acting like a toddler.”

  “Toddler!”

  “Yes. Learn to control yourself. You like to pretend you’re not doing anything wrong because these outrageous things you say fall under the safety of being true, but that’s baloney. You like the attention and the more outrageous you are, the more attention you get. You are a toddler.”

  She spun and stormed into the bathroom.

  “Kris!”

  “I can’t talk to you now. I need to dry my hair and get back to work.”

  By the time she came out of the bathroom, Billy was dressed, sitting on the bed contemplating his plight. She’d ripped him a huge one. Monster sized. Probably for good reason, but he wasn’t sure. Not of much anyway. All he knew was the burden of his actions was becoming too much. Even for him, who could carry a lot on his back. Between his boss yelling at him, his mother scolding him about the F-bombs, his teammates hounding him and now Kristen calling him a toddler, the lack of filtering kept getting him in trouble.

  When did this constant need for attention—positive or negative—converge on him? For years he’d worked to keep his ADD in check, but in the past months his energy for it faded and all he felt was useless and lost. Like traveling on a road that led to nowhere he wanted to be. Obsessing over it only escalated his anxiety and that always led to bad behavior. Maybe it was time for it to stop. For him to work harder at controlling his emotions. And his mouth.

  “Kris?”

  “Zip it. I need to go.”

  Before he could grab her, she charged out the door. Right about now would be a good time to swear.

  His room phone rang. Could he not get five seconds to think? “What?”

  “I’ve been calling your cell all morning.” Monk’s voice. “What the hell crawled up your ass?”

  Someone was really testing him. “Not what. Who. Kristen is being a pain in the ass because I called her sister a slut.”

  “Ouch. And you think she’s the pain in the ass? Get a damned heart, man.”

  Billy brought the phone away from his ear, held his middle finger to it and put it back to his ear. Juvenile, yes, but this time, worth it. “Now you’re gonna start?”

  “Just saying.”

  “She can barely stand her sister.”

  “You need schmoozing lessons. You suck at it.”

  If this guy were in front of him, Billy would stick his fucking head in the toilet and drown him. Not only would he do it, he’d laugh at his kicking legs. “I suck?”

  “Yeah. She may not like her sister, but she adores her father and she wants to please him. Part of pleasing him requires her to deal with Jess. She doesn’t need you adding to that hot-ass mess.”

  Such simple observations drove Billy mad—completely insane. This was why he didn’t own a car or a house or have a settled life. Who needed all this stress? He flopped back on the bed. “I guess I’m schlepping up to her office to apologize then. Fantastic. By the way, I was thrown to a gator this morning.”

  Monk laughed. “What?”

  “No joke.”

  “You aren’t shitting me?”

  “No. Whoever is behind this theft ring isn’t happy with me. Three guys, different ones this time, grabbed me and tossed my ass in a canal with a gator. I had to fight that bastard.” Sorry, Ma. But, hell, slip-ups were to be expected. All around.

  “I knew I shouldn’t have left you there.”
>
  “As if. Please. They would have snatched me regardless. Why are you calling?”

  “Vic wants to know when you’re heading back to Chicago.”

  Chicago? In December? Maybe never. “Uh, next week?”

  “Uh,” Monk mimicked. “You don’t sound too sure.”

  “Not before this shindig for the senator. I told Kristen I’d help with security. I talked to Vic about it the other day. He was cool with it. And I got this car theft thing going. After these dog biscuits made me gator bait, I’m hunting their asses.”

  “For that, I can’t blame you, but you gotta give Vic a return date so he can schedule you for something.”

  Schedule him? Billy flexed and unflexed his hand. Cracked his neck as a burst of hope welled inside. Maybe he wasn’t losing his job. “Am I out of the hole?”

  “Why are you asking me? He’s your boss.”

  “Yeah, but he was fried when he sent me down here. Forget it. I’ll call him. I may need help on this car theft thing. A second hotel has been hit. I got some leads but it’s too much ground to cover.”

  “I’ll come back.”

  Like he needed that aggravation? “No. I don’t want Izzy mad at me. I’ll tell Vic to send one of the guys. Maybe Bobby.”

  “Oh, jeez,” Monk said.

  “What?”

  “My girl just walked in and flashed me.”

  Lucky guy. “I guess you’d better fly then. Besides, I need to practice my groveling.”

  Billy dropped the phone into the cradle, thinking about what it would be like to have Kristen flash him.

  It would take a small miracle for Kristen to be that comfortable with her body. After escaping a gator and the over-the top sex in the shower, he may have used up his quota of small miracles.

  He blew out a breath. If he expected to have any sort of a relationship with Kristen, he’d have to get used to her self-image issues. And that would take some work.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kristen glanced up from her computer, but kept typing while she sneered at that pain in the butt Billy Tripp and his bandaged arm. “What is it?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She stopped typing. Puckered her lips. “You’re sorry. Really?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry.”