It’s been a hell of a long day, starting with a night of no sleep and an 8:00 a.m. hospital discharge, followed by a two-hour mechanical flight delay in New York and a weather rerouting over Virginia that added an hour to our flight time.
I wanted to just go home, but the guys wouldn’t hear a word about it. Morrow dropped me off here. Two rookies are at my house packing up some of my shit to hand off to Jake, who will come over with a grocery delivery later. Then Sully’s wife will be here tomorrow to finish stocking the fridge. They’ve all settled it. All I get to do is just let it happen.
Tess helps lead me over to the couch, and I sink down onto it with a groan. Big mistake. Now the world’s most gorgeous woman is standing over me naked, her pussy right in my eye line. My gaze locks on the soft thatch of trimmed curls pointing down like an arrow.
This is cruel and unusual punishment.
Tess seems wholly unbothered. “Why are you here, Ryan?”
“I could ask the same of you,” I counter, putting a hand up as if I can block her pussy from view. Fuck, I’m too tired to deal with this right now. And Mr. Hotshot will probably come swaggering out here any minute. I bet he’s using Mars’s shower like he owns the place. I fucking hate him.
“What are you doing?” she says, looking down at my raised hand.
“Could…umm…can you maybe cover with something?”
“Cover?”
“Yeah, you’re a lot of naked, Tess.”
She smirks down at me. “You didn’t seem to mind it last time. In fact, I got the rather distinct impression you liked seeing me naked.”
“Yeah, well, last time you weren’t slicked with the sweat of some other guy,” I say dropping my hand down.
She goes still, her smile switching to a glare. “Excuse me?” Then she huffs, crossing her arms over her breasts, one hip cocked to the side. “What exactly do you think is happening here? You think I’m hiding a guy back there?”
“Well, you look like you just got fucked six ways to Sunday,” comes my muttered reply. Maybe if I wasn’t on so many painkillers, I could finesse this better. No, fuck finesse. I’m too upset. She’s under my skin. The thought of her with someone else has me seeing red. “You’re wandering around Mars’s place like you live here—”
“I do live here,” she snaps. Then she’s stepping forward, putting herself between my spread legs. She grabs my chin, tipping my gaze up to meet hers. “And let’s get one thing crystal fucking clear. You don’t own me, Ryan Langley. We’ve kissed and we’ve danced, and we’ve flirted, but I am my own fucking person. I’m not beholden to you or anyone. And this shitty jealousy is a huge turn off for me. So, I suggest you pack it away if you ever want a snowball’s chance in hell of seeing me naked again.”
Her speech over, she drops her hand away from me and leans even closer, her breasts swaying in my face. I can smell something aromatic on her skin, like incense or an herbal soap. As quickly as she’s there, she’s gone, jerking something off the back of the sofa from behind my head. It’s a sofa blanket. She takes it and quickly wraps it around herself like a toga, flicking the tasseled end over her shoulder.
“There. Happy?”
“No,” I groan, sinking back against the cushions of the couch. I can still see every inch of her curves. Now they’re just artfully draped. And those damn nipples are still perfect peaks, poking against the soft fabric of the grey blanket.
“And for your information, there’s no one else here,” she declares. “I wasn’t getting fucked, Ryan. I was in the sauna. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I left my phone outside. I’m calling Rachel and figuring out what the hell is going on.”
She steps past me in her blanket toga with all the confidence of a queen. Opening the sliding glass door, she disappears out onto the patio. The dog follows her. The door whispers shut, leaving me alone in Ilmari’s house.
Awesome. This is just fucking perfect. I’ve been here two minutes, and I’ve already upset her. That has to be some kind of record, right?
I glance around the condo, my eyes quickly taking in all the clues I missed during our surprise exchange. It’s easy with Mars’s minimalist decor to note what is out of place. There’s the bottle of wine on the counter, fresh flowers in a vase on the kitchen island, snacks lined up under the microwave. There’s also a laptop set up on the kitchen table. A legal pad rests next to it. All the evidence of someone taking this place and making it their own. Tess is living here.