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Naked Pursuit
Naked Pursuit
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Naked Pursuit

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Yeah, she couldn’t wait to be alone with this sexy man. Owen laced his fingers through hers and they moved away, the echo of the ref’s wheels on the floor sounding behind them as he returned to the rink. “Hate adult skate,” he mumbled.

“Tony,” Owen called, finding Tony and Hayden nearly hidden by a row of lockers a few rows away from them.

“Careful, you two,” Stella teased. “There’s a no-kissing policy here.”

“Found that out a moment ago ourselves,” Hayden told her, smiling.

“We’re going to exchange our shoes,” Tony said, and Owen winked at Stella before he left, causing a shaft of awareness down her back.

Beside her, Hayden seemed to be experiencing her own struggles because the woman couldn’t focus on anything but Tony’s backside as the two men walked away.

“Good for you,” Stella told her.

Hayden nodded. “Yeah, it is good. I’ve been working so hard lately, I needed a bit of distraction,” she confessed, her gaze once again straying over to Tony.

“I know what you mean. Everyone always says how rough the third year of med school is on a person, but I guess I hadn’t realized just how much of a toll it was taking on me until tonight, when I finally relaxed. I don’t think the tension has left my body in two and a half years.”

“Well, tonight I plan to get all tense, then relax. Then tense all up again.” Hayden wiped a hand over her face. “Oh, I make such terrible jokes sometimes.”

But the two of them began to laugh. Hell, Stella had just been discovered making out like an errant teenager at a school dance, but instead of feeling mortified, she was giggling with a near stranger, and it felt great. Really great.

Tony reached for Hayden’s hand just as Owen draped an arm around her shoulders. And that felt even better.

“I don’t know whether to be relieved or frightened to find two women laughing,” Owen teased.

“Oh, it’s both,” Stella assured him, trying to insert every sexy tone she’d ever heard in a movie straight into her voice.

Must have worked, because the smile faded from Owen’s face. “See you guys later,” he said, not even bothering to look away from her to address Hayden and Tony.

Hayden gave her the thumbs-up.

After stopping only to put on their shoes, they fled the rink like two teenagers who’d snuck out of the house without being caught. The cool night air caressed her skin as they stepped outside.

“You don’t mind walking back to the car instead of waiting on Tony and Hayden? I doubt we got too far from PharmaTest.”

But who was to know since they’d spent the entire ride in the backseat in each other’s arms? Stella shook her head; a little night air would do her good.

“How’d you end up at PharmaTest?” he asked, matching the length of his stride to hers as they walked. He draped his arm around her shoulders again; the heat from his body warmed her.

“I volunteer for a lot of medical studies, or at least I used to. I’m in med school now, so I don’t have much time. But since it’s fall break and this was an overnight trial, I thought I could fit it in. What about you?” she asked.

“I knew someone.”

That’s all he needed to say. At some point in his life, Owen had lost a friend. It struck her as something special that he cared enough to try to make sure others did make it to see another day. “That’s the real reason doctors do what we do. To help others.”

This wasn’t just a guy she could take to bed and leave all emotion behind. Owen was a man she could actually like. Which made him not the best candidate for a one-off night of ecstasy, but she wasn’t backing away now. Owen was the man she wanted.

“Where to?” he asked when they were alone in the PharmaTest parking lot. He’d been right; they had traveled only a few blocks in Tony’s sports car. “You want to find someplace else to go? Wanna grab something to eat?”

But Stella didn’t want to talk or think. “What do you want to do?” she asked, knowing he wasn’t the kind of man for delay tactics. He’d made it clear he wanted her, and right now she wanted to hear it. Again.

He gifted her with that sexy half smile again. “I don’t care what we do. Or where we go. I just want to be with you.”

Exactly. She just wanted to kiss this gorgeous, sexy man again and again. She sank her fingers into the short hair behind his neck and urged his lips toward hers.

Not much urging was required. With a groan, his lips once again settled against hers. “I’ve thought of nothing else since spotting you at this place,” he admitted against her mouth. Then his tongue slipped inside her mouth and along her tongue and she was done. Done in. Done for. Exactly what the doctor ordered.

Seriously? What the doctor ordered? Had she just made that crack in her head? So Hayden wasn’t the only one who could make bad jokes.

Time to get serious. “Your place close?” she asked between kisses.

He cupped her face, stroking her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire, his hazel eyes almost brown. “I don’t live in Dallas. I’m only here a few days, visiting for my grandmother’s birthday, and the place is too crowded. You?”

She shook her head. “Same. I have three roommates.”

“I want to be alone with you,” he said, the warmth of his breath teasing her temple.

Had this guy actually made her shiver with just a few whispered words? Him. Exactly.

“Alone with you sounds about perfect.”

His eyes squeezed shut for a moment, and a small smile played along his lips. Had he doubted how much she wanted him? Well, yeah, probably, because when did this kind of devastating instawant actually happen? His show of relief made warmth spread throughout her body.

His hazel eyes opened and his smile widened. For her. “It’s been a while since I’ve been in Dallas, but I think there’s a hotel not far from here.”

Stella nodded. “I know the one. By the park.”

“My car’s that way,” he told her, pointing toward a battered truck with Colorado plates. They raced together toward his car.

The hotel was far swankier than she’d remembered. A landmark boutique hotel in the Dallas area, it had a lush art-deco lobby, complete with a large crackling fire. The rubber soles of her shoes didn’t do justice to the sleek hardwood floors beneath them, set in striking geometric designs. Chevron-patterned wallpaper lined the walls. Thick, luxurious drapes in gold and burgundy flanked the deep-set bay windows, many of them displaying stained glass that she would have loved to inspect—if she weren’t with the world’s sexiest man.

Everything about the place screamed luxury and expense. Except a place like this didn’t scream. Never anything that crass. This was the hotel that enforced a dress code, and while Owen looked amazing in his jeans and casual polo shirt, his clothes were not fit for the Market Gardens hotel. Or hers.

But Owen kept walking to the ornately carved wooden desk that was less like a check-in counter and more like the kind of thing a millionaire shipping tycoon—no, a billionaire investment banker—kicked up her stilettos on.

“Welcome to the Market Gardens. What name is your reservation under?” the friendly yet cool clerk asked them. In a suit and tie, he looked exactly like the kind of man who could hold his own against the wealthily entitled of the world as well as two people who’d just walked in off the street on a whim.

Stella bit back a laugh. They’d not thought this hotel plan through. Of course the Market Gardens required reservations. She began to turn away.

But Owen played it cool as well, which probably wasn’t a stretch for him. “No reservation. What do you have available?”

The smile faded from the clerk’s face. “We’re usually booked up several weeks in advance.”

They must look like exactly what they were—two people up for a little spontaneous rendezvous. Even that was too generous. Sex. They were down for some hot and dirty sex.

“We’re only interested in tonight,” Owen continued.

With lips pursed, the clerk toggled the mouse and woke up the computer discreetly hidden beneath a carved wood panel.

“Would you prefer a courtyard view?” he asked. “I have a suite.”

Her shoulders stiffened in alarm. A courtyard view in this place must cost a fortune. “That’s okay—”

“Absolutely,” Owen said, and slid his credit card toward the reservationist.

“You’ll be in one of our tower rooms, second floor.” With a few clicks of the mouse and a swipe of the card, the transaction was complete. The clerk slid over a leather case containing their key cards.

Wow. Even the fanciest hotel she’d ever stayed at had only presented her with a folded-over piece of cardstock with the plastic key card stuffed inside.

The clerk signaled for the bellhop. A young man sporting a gray blazer trimmed with gold at the cuff and neck quickly appeared, friendly smile in place.

“We don’t have any luggage,” Owen informed them without a trace of embarrassment, even though she felt the heat of a blush in her cheeks.

“Of course, sir,” the clerk responded coolly, unfazed.

Why should she even care? She was here to live her life before her job took it over again after this quick break.

“Actually, I do have a duffel bag inside my truck. I’ll be right back.”

No way was he leaving her here alone in the lobby of snobs. Stella quickly followed on his heels.

He’d mentioned earlier that he’d wanted to impress her. She didn’t want him to face an ugly credit card bill to do it. “Owen, this place has got to be way too much money.”

“It’s on me,” he told her and fished out the keys to his truck. A large black duffel bag rested on the backseat, and he picked it up and swung it up over his shoulder.

Stella had grown up with two working doctors for parents, so money had never been tight, but rash expensive impulses weren’t something they’d ever indulged in. She didn’t want Owen to feel as if she expected it. “I just don’t want you to think you have to spend a lot of money on me. Maybe they have another roo—”

He gripped her by the shoulders. “Stella, it’s done. The only excuse my parents would accept for me not staying with them is that I’m at the Market Gardens. Besides, we’re living life,” he told her, then stifled any further protest with a kiss.

Living life in a swanky hotel with the world’s sexiest guy...why was she complaining again? He crooked his elbow to her in the habit of his that she was really beginning to like.

“The elevator is right this way,” the bellman informed them as they entered. They followed him into one of the elevators. She met Owen’s gaze on the short trip to the second floor. Heat and desire emanated from his gaze. It was amazing to be wanted so desperately.

The bell dinged above their heads but didn’t break the spell between them. With each step toward their room, her body ached more and more with yearning. She needed this man’s hands on her skin. His lips teasing her nipples. His fingers between her legs.

The bellman swept the door wide, and she gasped at the lavish room. She’d heard the word suite when the clerk had confirmed the reservation, but Owen had booked a Suite with a capital S.

A beautiful sitting area beckoned them to indulge in luxury. A small two-person dinette waited for them in the corner, decorated with a vase of fresh Texas wildflowers. Her feet sank into the thick carpet, but she forced herself not to rush toward the bedroom. Slow and steady steps would get her there just the same.

Owen tipped the bellman and followed her into the bedroom.

“Is there a bigger bed size than king?” she asked. “I think an entire family could sleep on this—”

He cut off her musings by tracing the curve of her ear with his tongue. Her eyes drifted shut and she leaned against him. Her back fit perfectly against his chest.

His hands moved to cup her breasts as he weaved a lazy path down the side of her neck with his mouth and lips. She sucked in a breath and ground her backside into his cock, which was already hard and thick in his jeans.

She steadied herself against his thighs, stroking and learning the lines of his muscled legs. Was there a part of this man that wasn’t sexy? His fingers found the buttons of her shirt, but he was too slow.

“Just yank.” Her voice was almost a growl; she needed this man’s hands on her breasts.

Buttons flew with one quick pull and he smoothed the shirt from her shoulders. He tugged her bra up, exposing her breasts. Her nipples puckered from the abrupt change in temperature and the anticipation. Then his hands cupped her breasts, warming and shaping and molding them. She moaned deep in her throat.

“You feel perfect in my hands. I want to taste you.”

But her knees would have given out from that kind of pleasure. “I’ll race you to the bed,” she challenged and dove onto the ginormous king-size mattress. Stella grabbed the covers and yanked them back. “Mmm, triple sheeting. Nice.”

“Only the best,” he told her, his gaze tender and warm and sexy as hell.

She cupped his face. “I’ll remember this forever.”

He dipped his head. “Then let’s continue making those memories.” His lips found an über-sensitive spot beneath her ear. She sucked in his scent and this experience. She never wanted to forget this crazy night.

“What if that lady was right?” she asked. Alarm jerked though her body.

“What lady?” he asked, trailing his tongue down the column of her throat.

Moisture pooled between her thighs in response, but she couldn’t force the warning away. “The lady at PharmaTest. She said we wouldn’t remember tonight.”

He lifted his head. A tiny line formed between his brows. Then he shook his head. “You said it yourself. Control group. We must have gotten the placebos. Everyone in that place was asleep but the four of us.” Owen stared her square in the eyes and smiled. “Besides, there’s no way I’m forgetting this. I mean, c’mon, you’re...amazing.”

And now heat pooled somewhere in the vicinity of her heart. No man had ever looked at her like Owen was at this very moment and told her she was amazing. The tension left her shoulders, and she urged him toward her. “You’re right. I’d never forget you. How could I? I’ve never done anything even remotely like this.”

“This is a first for me, too. You’re a first,” he said as he returned his lips to her skin, this time kissing along her collarbone.

Her lids drifted shut as a wave of sensation slid along her nerve endings. “You feel so good.”

“Just wait,” he whispered against the swell of her breast. “I’m going to make you feel a lot better.”

He lowered his head and sighed.

But that nagging doubt wouldn’t completely wane. Some cautions were just too ingrained. Had lived inside her soul for too long. Owen sighed again, but this time not from pleasure. “You’re still worried,” he said.

“How could you tell?”

He made a face that said don’t be ridiculous.

“I just can’t imagine how weird it would be to wake up and not remember a thing. I don’t want to start all over again with you. I want to wake up and be exactly where I am right now,” she told him, wiggling her hips against his. He groaned.

“I have an idea. Hotels always have notepads and paper. We’ll write notes to ourselves, just in case.”

“Good idea.”

She scrambled off the bed in search of paper and pens, pausing only long enough to twist back into her bra and slide her shirt over her arms. Living in the moment was one thing. Doing it topless while a sexy man gazed upon you was quite another. Too unnerving. More like too distracting. She needed to keep her emotions battened down tight just a little bit longer.

A few minutes later she sat at the dinette, trying to decide what to write.

Dear Stella,