Barenaked Jane. Deanna Lee

My apartment building had one of the best in-house gyms in Boston. In fact, I’d chosen the building because of the gym.

      My hip was sore from my tumble with Mathias, but since it was more my fault than his, I couldn’t hold it against him. I pulled off my sweat-damped T-shirt and dropped it on the floor beside my shorts. Four miles on the treadmill and I was still wound tight with emotion.

      When I’d first moved to Boston, I’d hoped that the change of scenery would help clear my mind and push my past firmly behind me. It hadn’t. In fact, if anything, being so far from my two brothers had only intensified the desperate feeling that I’d carried around with me since I’d been shot. I could still feel the hot pavement underneath me when I thought about that day.

      I don’t remember how long I lay there on that road. I do remember my brother, Stan, combing road tar from my hair in the hospital. The patient and thoughtful look on his face lingered with me even six years later. I’d been a cop in Savannah, Georgia, for less than two years when a traffic stop turned into my worst nightmare.

      Wes, the middle child of our family, had told me repeatedly that I shouldn’t have been out on the street to begin with. That had only made me want it more. How many times in our lives had I strived so hard to prove him wrong? I’d proved that day that I could take care of myself; the price, however, had been a horrible one to pay.

      My partner lay dead on the road because we’d both underestimated a seemingly mild-mannered history teacher. The altercation we’d had earlier in the day with the man hadn’t led us to believe he would be dangerous. To this day, I still had no clear reason why the man had come out of his car firing at us, and I never would. Because the same day I’d been shot in the line of duty, I took a life.

      I briefly planted my hands flat against the wall under the showerhead before I reached down and turned the water on. Too hot, but it helped. I sighed softly when my muscles started to relax under the stinging spray. Having my day start before the sun even came up wasn’t the ideal Saturday; in fact, it wasn’t ideal for any day.

      I left the shower and started to grab a towel to dry off, and my doorbell rang. Disgusted, I went into my bedroom, grabbed a T-shirt that would cover my ass, and pulled it over my head as I headed toward the door. The bell sounded again as I entered the small foyer of my apartment. The only thing worse than an ass-crack-of-dawn visitor was an impatient ass-crack-of-dawn visitor.

      One peek out the peephole told me that the visitor was far more than just impatient. I jerked off the chain and undid all four of the bolt locks as quickly as I could. Throwing open the door, I glared at Mathias Montgomery.

      “So, do you make a habit of skulking around in the night?” I leaned against the door and inspected him. He’d come to my door; I figured I could look at him like a fresh blueberry pastry if I wanted to.

      “It’s at least six o’clock in the morning.” He glanced me over and swore under his breath. “Do you make a habit of answering your door practically naked?”

      “I’m not naked.”

      “No. You’re soaking wet in a T-shirt. Which in any man’s book is actually better than being naked.”

      I took a step back as he moved forward and actually jumped when he shoved the door shut. “I didn’t invite you in, Mr. Montgomery.”

      “Yeah, and it was rude of you.”

      “Rude of me?”

      “Yes. Rude. You stand naked in a doorway and then don’t have the decency to invite me in.” His gaze dropped down slowly until he reached my feet and then he focused on my face. “Don’t call me Mr. Montgomery.”

      “I decide who I’m on a first-name basis with, not you.” I ran my fingers through my hair and motioned to him. “What was so important that you couldn’t wait until Monday? Some people might spend their weekends working, but me, I like to lounge about my apartment half naked and do nothing that resembles work.”

      “I doubt that. I’ve seen how much time you put into your job. But that’s besides the point; I’m not here to discuss the gallery.” His gaze drifted downward briefly and then he focused on my face.

      “Then why are you here?” I glared at him and crossed my arms over my breasts as he turned and twisted one of the bolt locks. “I normally lock people out, not in.”

      “I’m going to be an exception,” he responded.

      He was working on being several things, none of them pleasant. I didn’t want or need some arrogant alpha-male type dripping testosterone all over my apartment. But he was just too tempting to throw out. “Just who the hell do you think you are?”

      “I’m a man who was up all damn night because of you.” He moved forward, every step predatory and calculated.

      I couldn’t even remember the last time a man had actually excited me so much without even touching me. It was easy to think back on those few moments in the parking garage, his mouth on mine…staking claim and invading in one breathless instant.

      “Because of me?” I gasped a little when my back met with the wall. The blasted man actually had me running. I don’t run. I never have. “How’s that my problem?”

      “It’s my problem, and I’ve come over here to rectify it.”

      “I don’t like or appreciate this kind of behavior. If I wanted a chest-beating Neanderthal in my life, I would have stayed in Georgia and married one of my brother’s friends.” I pushed my finger in the middle of his chest, and he backed up a few steps. “Some women might find this take-charge attitude of yours charming and attractive, but I don’t.”

      “Is that so?” he asked, his voice taking on a silky quality that made me want to run for cover.

      “Yeah. I ought to kick you out of my apartment.” I think we both knew that wasn’t going to happen. “How’d you get my address?” I raised one eyebrow and waited.

      “My brother is very indiscreet at four in the morning.”

      “I’m gonna kick his ass.”

      “If you have any energy left when I’m finished with you, I’ll drive you over to his studio.”

      “Finished with me?” I asked, and hoped that he didn’t hear the thrill of excitement that zipped through my voice. As it was, I could barely stand waiting on him to get started.

      “Yeah.” He placed both hands above my head on the wall and met my gaze. “I have this theory about us.”

      “And what would that be?”

      “I think if we spend the next two days fucking ourselves silly, by Monday morning we’ll be over whatever this is between us.” He reached out and touched my face. His fingers trailed along my jaw. “What do you think?”

      It was the most unbelievable thing I’d heard in my entire life. In fact, as his fingers moved down my throat and his gaze dropped down to my breasts, I realized that I had every intention of totally exploring his theory. Though a part of me knew that on Monday morning I’d be thoroughly fucked but nowhere near getting over whatever he was doing to me.

      “I think you are very sure of yourself.”

      “I am.”

      “And blunt.”

      “Yes.” His fingers moved from my neck and down between my breasts.

      “I don’t like arrogant alpha males.” I gasped a little as his thumb brushed across one rigid nipple. “Most women don’t. We just like to read about them in romance novels.”

      “So you said. Is that what you really think?”

      “You’re arrogant.” Though he did have that smooth, tailored look of the average metrosexual male, there was something rough about him that didn’t jive with that, and that rough, unknown quality had me so very curious.

      “No.