“This going to teach you to break the rules, isn’t it.” He chuckled as he looked over at the crowd assembling in groups. All of them wore street clothes, robes at worst. “No more swimming in the pool after hours.”
“Maybe I’d finished,” she said with as much calm as she could muster.
“You hadn’t even gotten in—your hair is dry. Every inch of your body is dry.”
Not quite every inch. There was one part that was getting wet. She tried to turn away so he wouldn’t see the tell-tale color she knew was staining her skin, but she couldn’t break free of his gaze.
His eyes widened. His gaze intensifying. Yeah, he knew how commanding his presence was. If he was around, she’d be looking. She and half the neighborhood. She felt him tense up more. His grip tightened to one notch shy of painful. There was no escaping his arms now.
Her mouth dried. “Put me down.”
But she knew he saw right through her. That at this moment, she wanted him to keep holding her. She wanted him to carry her off into the dark night and have his wicked way with her. She was in his arms already—warm, revelling in his superior strength. She wanted him to take what he wanted. And she wanted that to be her. She wanted him to take his satisfaction.
A random stranger?
Crazy wasn’t the word. Maybe she had some smoke inhalation hallucinations going or something?
“You know there aren’t many rooftop pools in Manhattan. You shouldn’t take advantage of it.” His light conversation was totally at odds with the heat in his gaze.
But she latched onto it, thankful for the diversion. It’d give her a chance to pull back from her sudden aspiration to be little more than the man’s sex toy. “On the contrary, the pool should be used 24/7. Given there are so few it should be used as much as possible.”
“You’re new to the building.”
“Why, what’s going to happen? Am I going to turn into a rule-following zombie the longer I live there?”
“Maybe not, your resistance is strong,” he teased. “But I think you’ve taken advantage of someone to get access to the pool this late.”
“How would little old lame me take advantage of anyone?”
It was the first time she’d referred to her injury.
“You’re not lame. You’re not slow either. Not in any way that matters.”
Sexual awareness zinged between them again.
Chelsea tried to look away from him. Failed. “Do you use the pool?” she asked.
“Every day.”
“Rain or shine?”
“Hail, snow, lightning.”
Covering all options then. “It stays open in winter?”
“Year round. It’s heated.”
That didn’t matter for her. She was only in town a couple of months. But she was never going near the pool when he was in it. “You wouldn’t be able to get much exercise in. It’s not that big.” Whereas he was huge. A wall of muscle.
“Haven’t you heard? It’s not about size, it’s about style.”
Oh lord, sexual innuendo. She wasn’t going to smile. She wasn’t going to—
“Finally.” He jeered lightly. “You’re beautiful when you smile.”
Chelsea tried to quell her instinctive shiver of delight. He might be teasing, but his intense focus had her all but yearning to hang onto him and let him do anything he wanted.
“And edible when you blush.”
Edible?
Before she could answer he set her down carefully on her feet. His hands kept a firm grip, ensuring she was steady. But even once she was, his hands lingered, warm on her waist. She might be ‘safe’ from the fire but it seemed to her that a whole other kind of danger loomed.
Xander Lawson didn’t want to let her go. This had to be the most fun fire drill on record. He ought to go over to Terry and the management team but he didn’t want to leave her alone. Not when he could see the interest in so many sets of eyes turned their way. Not when he was so interested.
She was new to the block, but she had to know someone. Pool security was tight and there were surveillance cameras. It meant she was buddies with someone on staff. Someone willing to turn a blind eye to her little nocturnal trip. Which was very interesting. Maybe she’d gone to meet a guy?
He looked at her. Not in that swimsuit. It wasn’t one for seduction but for serious swimming. Which wasn’t to say it wasn’t revealing. Because it was—hugging her curvy breasts, skimming over her slim belly, revealing lithe arms and long legs. One calf seemed ever so slightly thinner than the other. She’d had some kind of problem. If it weren’t so dark he’d be looking closer for some scarring.
A shiver swept down her body in a jerky ripple as she looked around the crowd. He fought not to scoop her straight back into his arms. She tucked her chin down and brought her arms across her chest. Poor sweetheart was self-conscious. Given the crowd, he wasn’t surprised. He could help her out with that.
“Here.” He whisked his tee-shirt over his head and offered it to her, tensing his stomach muscles as he did. Oh he was a lame-ass male. The instinct to preen around her was undeniable.
But her eyes widened. He saw the way they dropped super quick to glance at his chest and stomach. Her attention briefly lingered on where his jeans sat loose on his hips. Yeah, he’d only pulled on the jeans—no briefs, no boxers. He wished he had. The extra support would’ve helped restrain a certain part of him right now.
To his relief, she resolutely looked back up at his face. But he knew a lot about women—knew their peripheral vision was stronger than a male’s. Because they were more prey than predator. And yeah, right now she was prey and he absolutely the hunter. She knew it too. The frisson—her little shivers, his tension? Sparks were a puff away. He ached to blow on them. It’d been a while since he’d played.
Sex. The idea sang in his head louder than the damn alarm that was still wailing. He couldn’t resist another look at all her gorgeous, porcelain skin.
Sharing the near nudity was the least he could do for her, right? That way she wouldn’t feel as alone in her exposure. He chuckled inwardly as she stared a split-second too long—not taking the tee-shirt.
Definite sparks.
His inner caveman wanted to see her in his clothing. Basic instinct urged him to stamp his claim. Too many of the other residents were looking at her. Even the ones shacked up with significant others were sneaking peeks at her pretty curves and long legs and the long streak of glossy brown hair that hung down her back. As for the soft red mouth set in the smooth pale face? Total femininity.
Every predatory instinct pulled to the fore in a rush. But even stronger was the protective urge. He held back from manhandling her into his shirt himself. Instead he kept it easy, just holding it out to her.
Like bait.
Chapter Two
Chelsea so didn’t want to take the shirt in his outstretched hand. But at the same time she really, really did. She glanced over his shoulder and saw people staring at them. That would be because they were the only ones baring flesh. And up this close to ‘superman’, she was revealing more than she wanted. So she took the shirt.
“Thank you,” she muttered.
“My pleasure.” His eyes lit with laughter, like he knew how much it cost her to say it.
Maddening creature. She clamped her mouth shut and slipped the tee over her head. Instantly she was enveloped in his warmth and the soapy scent she’d noticed when in his arms, a tantalizing mix of citrus, lime and man. She clenched on the deep muscles firing up inside and held her breath, stopping herself from inhaling his essence. So inappropriate. So obvious.
The sleeves of the tee came down almost to her elbows, the bottom hem to below her mid-thigh. Hanging loose, it covered her perfectly. Yet now she felt even more like she’d been caught out doing something she shouldn’t have. Not so much swimming after hours, but sleeping in someone else’s bed. His. And she’d pulled on the nearest shirt quickly in the alarm... and oh yeah, his naked torso right in f
ront of her just added to the whole movie reel playing in her head.
“Who should I return it to?” she asked roughly, trying to retain just a little cool.
“Superman never reveals his true identity.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to that eargasmic murmur. “It’s part of the fun.”
She stared up at him, the fantasy still whirring in her head. Could he be an anonymous-hot-stuff sensual dream man for her? Could they have some kind of ‘late night strangers tryst’? Have mercy. Like that happened in real life? She shook her head clear. It had been too long since she’d done anything with any man—because a thought like that shouldn’t turn her on. Except it did. It really, really, did.
“Hey Doc, no injuries here?”
She started at the interruption. One of the uniformed building team stood beside them. She knew him—Terry. He glanced at her with more interest than apology in his eyes.