Whatever it might be, he was about to find out.

He started to knock on her bedroom door but found it slightly cracked. Easing it open, he slipped into her room. Maybe he should’ve knocked, but what the hell? It was his house.

His gaze fell to the bed first, and it was empty. Shopping bags were stacked on the floor against the dresser. The room smelled of her—lilac and vanilla. His eyes moved to the door to the bathroom. It was also ajar and soft light edged around the bottom. Sitting the totes on the dresser, he was about to force himself out of the bedroom when a startled cry edged with terror erupted from the bathroom.

What the hell? What kind of trouble could she get herself into alone in a bathroom?

More than a little concerned, he moved toward the bathroom door. In the back of his head, he knew he should announce himself, but he pushed open the door.

And came to a complete stop, something tugging at his chest and causing the muscles to tighten in his stomach. Pulsing adrenaline coursed through him, and he couldn’t remember why he even came up the stairs to find her before he’d heard her cry out.

Never in his life had he met a more contrary woman, but right then, she was the embodiment of wet dreams. Go figure it was when she might be asleep.

She must’ve had a nightmare that had passed over her. Now she rested peacefully, but a storm was raging inside his body.

Alana was in the tub, her head resting on a rolled-up towel, facing the door. A practically serene look marked her expression. He’d never really seen her as such. The tug in his chest was stronger this time, drawing him closer.

Her hair was piled up around her head, but without anything to hold it there, several tendrils hung down, drifting over her shoulders and into the water. The scent of shower gel filled the bathroom, which explained the frothy white bubbles that obscured her body except for the sweet swell of her chest and a gracefully bent knee.

Seeing her like this was a punch to the gut and caused his already hard cock to pulse against the zipper of his jeans.

Goddamn, it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. And he’d seen a lot of sexy in his life, but this—fuck yeah—this was stunning. Maybe it was the white-capped bubbles drifting over her skin or the way her plump lips were slightly parted. It could be the innocence of it all. How she slumbered without knowing he was there, watching her.

Or maybe it was just because it was her.

Alana shifted slightly. She let out a soft, contented sigh that boiled his blood. Her knee slipped under the water, stirring the bubbles. The peaks of her breasts broke the surface. Nipples dusty pink and tightened into little nubs, they were absolutely perfect.

Holy hell, he was…he was absolutely undone by the mere sight of them.

He must’ve made a sound or she finally sensed his presence, because her eyes suddenly flew open. She sucked in a startled breath.

Their eyes locked.

Alana jerked up, tucking her legs under her. Bubbles sloshed over the sides of the tub as she rose. Water sluiced down her body in thick rivulets, drawing his heated gaze.

For the best seconds of his life, she froze before him, completely and splendidly naked. Her arms to her sides, tiny bubbles gliding down her skin, and all that beautiful flesh on display for him to devour. And boy, did he ever eat her up with his stare.

My God.

His mouth went dry as his balls tightened. As he suspected, she had been hiding a lush body under the shapeless suits. True, her breasts were small, but they were perfect for her narrow waist. Her hips flared out, sweetly rounded, and her thighs were shapely. In a second, he could picture them wrapping around his hips. She was bare between the thighs, with the exception of a neatly trim thatch of dark curls.

His once dry mouth watered. He wanted—no, needed—to touch her, to taste her. Every glorious inch of her. He needed to be on her, inside her. Especially between her thighs. He wanted to dive in with his tongue and then his cock.

Surprisingly, there was a small tattoo beside her hip to the right of her navel. It was a red rose, slight bent at the top. Three petals lay at the base of the green stem. Something about the design was familiar to him.

He dragged his eyes up, and there was no mistaking the lust in her gaze. The flush racing across her cheeks and down her throat told him that she saw his hunger. Her nipples tightened even more, and he groaned.

“You’re the most fucking magnificent thing I’ve ever seen,” he ground out.

Then those wonderful seconds came to an end. She reached over, snatched up a towel, and hastily wrapped it around her body. Her mouth opened and he knew she was about to give him an ass-chewing for the ages, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. Not yet.

Chandler was on her before she took her next breath.

Chapter Nine

Holy fuck a duck…

Anger and embarrassment had flooded Alana’s system, but so had something a hell of a lot more intense. Rife, intoxicating lust seized her—the same wild, out-of-control feelings that had taken her over the night before, when he’d kissed her. Knowing how quickly she’d lost herself in a simple kiss had dumped her in a bad mood all day. There was no reason for her to have such a strong reaction to a damn kiss and she shouldn’t be that attracted to him.

But she was.

Now those feelings were back, stronger than before. Her breasts ached, her legs felt like jelly, and she was incredibly damp between her legs.

Alana knew she should have been pissed at Chandler and she was, but the hunger she felt inside her had been reflected in his brilliant blue gaze. And that yearning was more powerful than anything else she was experiencing.

Her fingers had tightened around the hasty knot she’d made in the towel above her breasts. She couldn’t breathe. He’d been staring at her like she was the only woman in the world and he’d shuddered.

When he’d moved toward her, fast and graceful as any predator stalking its prey, there was no place for her to go. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to run. No man had ever looked at her like he had.

It made her feel brazen and wanton and she liked it.

There was a brief moment when she’d wondered if this was how her mom had felt, if this was the first symptom to the slippery slope that was obsession. Then Chandler’s large hands landed on her bare, damp shoulders at the same moment his lips met hers.

The kiss wasn’t about a slow seduction or exploration. His mouth fused to hers and when she drew in a breath, he delved in. She felt his body tremble against her and she was amazed that he was the one who was shaking with need—need for her. That awed her, and as a hand swept to the back of her neck, she was carried away in the exquisite sensations he was opening in her.

Alana needed to tell him to stop. This wasn’t appropriate. A relationship of any sort between them would never work. She placed her hands on his chest, but instead of pushing him away, she gripped the soft material, holding him to her.

She kissed him back, just as fiercely and with the same need that he claimed her mouth with. Her breasts tightened and swelled, aching with the want of his touch.

He groaned against her lips, causing a chill to skate over her flushed skin. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

She had a feeling she could say the same about him, but then he kissed her again, and she wasn’t thinking anymore. All she was focused on were the sensations he was dragging out in her, and there was something beautifully freeing in that. She fell headfirst into it, praying that when he was done with her, she would be able to resurface.

His hand slid down her bare arm and then dropped to her cloth-covered hip. He guided her head back and his lips left hers. A disappointed whimper escaped her lips, and Chandler chuckled deeply.

“I’m not done with you. Nowhere near it,” he said, nipping at her chin. “I’ve only just gotten started.”

Her stomach fluttered like a thousand butterflies had taken flight. “Really?”

“Oh yeah.” He grinned and tilted her head to the side. He nibbled a path along her jaw to her ear, catching the lobe between his teeth. She gasped. “You like that, don’t you?”

She couldn’t answer. Her senses were spinning.

Chandler chuckled again as he dipped his head lower, blazing a line of hot, wet kisses down her neck. When he reached her pulse, his tongue flicked over her skin. She shifted restlessly, wanting more, knowing there was more.

His lips moved along the edge of the towel as his one hand moved up, resting at her rib cage, so close to her breasts. He didn’t touch her there. No, he teased her with the lines of kisses, with the way his thumb moved in a circle over the towel, coming close to the swell but never quite touching her.

“Tell me you want this,” he all but growled. Lifting her head, he kissed the corner of her parted lips. “Tell me you need this as badly as I do and you will not regret a second of this.”

But wouldn’t she? When it was all over and the heat of lust faded, how would she feel? There was already a part of her that was drawn to him, beyond the physical attraction. Would things be like they were before? Could she separate an act of lust from meaning anything else? Her mother had never been able to do that, so how could she be any different?

Chandler kissed her again, and panic clawed at her chest. From everything she knew about him, he wasn’t the type of man to settle down, and from what she knew about his needs, she wasn’t sure she could ever fulfill them. And she was also sure that every moment she allowed this to continue, the further she slipped under Chandler’s sensual control. But she wasn’t the type to settle down, either. And she was no coward.