Naked Pursuit. Jill Monroe

at Owen for a moment.

      Plunge right in. The water’s fine.

      She lifted on the tips of her toes again, ready to explore this sexy man fully. His hands circled around her hips, and his head lowered—

      “Let’s get out of here before clipboard lady comes back,” Tony interrupted. “I’ll pull my car around.”

      “That was just getting interesting,” Owen said, and smiled down at her, his gaze straying to her lips for a brief second, then returning to her eyes.

      She met his smile and nodded.

      He lifted a brow. “You want to get out of here? Actually, wait here. I’ll go with Tony to get his car. If you change your mind and you’re gone when we come back, I’ll understand. But—”

      Owen interrupted his own words by lowering his head and settling his lips on hers. Whereas her kisses had been quick explorations, his kiss was all about sweet persuasion. He traced her upper lip with his tongue, then gently tugged her lower lip into the warmth of his mouth.

      She was ready for something more. So much more.

      He cupped her cheeks with his hands and slid his tongue into her mouth. Owen urged her to meet his kiss with equal passion, and by his slow, anguished groan, she accomplished just that. His heat surrounded her. His woodsy scent filled her nose. Her nipples hardened and puckered against the soft silk of her bra.

      “C’mon, Owen,” Tony called.

      “I hope you’re here when I come back,” he whispered against her lips, and then he was walking away from her.

      She wasn’t usually the kind of lady to ogle a guy’s backside. To her, a body wasn’t something to gawk at but to examine and study and, on good days, to be amazed by. She loved learning about all the wonderful and incredible things the human body could accomplish, from bringing forth new life to running a marathon to overcoming invasive surgery and disease. Really, a leg was a leg and a chest was a chest.

      But with Owen, it was different. She could appreciate the tight package of his ass. Or the roped, caged strength of his arms as he’d held her. And Stella had to laugh at herself because she wanted to examine Owen, all right, just not in the medical sense. Cue the jokes about playing doctor. She raised her arms above her head and spun, laughing and squeezing her eyes shut tight. The heavy night air welcomed her.

      “Are you actually...twirling?” Hayden asked her.

      Stella slowed until she was just moving with a slight sway and glanced over to her fellow escapee. Hayden, also known as her new best friend, frowned at her.

      “I don’t think I’ve ever been happy enough to twirl. Or spin. At least not since I was six. That’s kind of sad. What happens to us that we don’t want to spin anymore?”

      Hayden shrugged. “Life, I guess. I was kind of judgey about your spinning a second ago, but now I’m going to join you because we should spin.”

      And for one perfect moment, they circled in the parking lot, laughing and reconnecting to their six-year-old selves who’d thought—no, knew—that twirling was perfectly acceptable. Even preferred.

      “I’m getting a little dizzy,” Stella said. She planted her feet on the concrete until the world around her slowed. Adulthood always snuck in somehow.

      “I can’t believe I left the study like that. I have always, always done what I was supposed to do,” Hayden confided.

      “Good for you, then. In fact, you should keep breaking the rules tonight.”

      “What?” Tony said from behind them. His navy sports car was parked on the street. Owen unfolded his tall frame from the passenger seat and smiled at her. Yep, an onslaught of goofy responses predictably followed.

      “Tonight Hayden should do everything she’s not supposed to.” Tony lifted a brow, acute interest practically radiating from the man. She was happy for her friend that this cute guy was so into her. Tony laced Hayden’s fingers through his.

      “Cool car. Does the top go down?” she asked as the two of them walked together toward his car.

      “And what about you?” Owen asked Stella. “What do you want to do tonight?”

      Her skin prickled and sweat broke out on the back of her neck. So this delicious warmth spreading through her was what it felt like. Because if she wasn’t mistaken, at this very moment, Stella was the subject of some acute male interest, too. And while Tony was great and all, there was a recklessness about Owen, the kind of wink-at-danger swagger and bring-it-on attitude that made her sit up straight and say “yes, please.”

      Factor in his sinfully sexy smile and perfectly muscled body, and she was a goner.

      You. I want to do you. But it was more than that...

      “Tonight I’m living life,” she stated. “I’m not going to watch it from the sidelines. I’m going to grab it, feel it and give it a good shake. You see, right now I want to kiss you again, and that’s something I never would have done before, and I certainly never would have told you about it. Because kissing a man can lead to way too many feelings and emotions, and I have to keep that kind of stuff contained in order to succeed.”

      “Who told you that?” he challenged.

      “Learned it from the best—my parents. I’ve seen way too many people alter their perfectly arranged paths because of sex and relationships. But not me. Never me. My plans—degree, med school, ER, end of story.”

      “So what do you do when something, or someone, threatens all that perfect planning?” His fingers traced down her arm, diverting her train of thought.

      “I slow it down and console myself that if it’s meant to be, it will be. Only later.” Stella held her breath for a moment. Swallowed. “But with you, I want to make it be. Right. Now.”

      He crooked his elbow toward her. “Coming with me, then?”

      “Absolutely.”

      Arm-in-arm, they dove into the backseat of Tony’s car like two stars escaping from the paparazzi. She wound up across his lap, her legs tangled with his. And as the sun set outside their window and the dark enveloped them, she twined her fingers behind Owen’s neck and his lips found hers.

      “Tony, that’s it,” Hayden said from the front seat.

      Owen’s lips left hers before their lip-lock could really get started. He kissed her temple instead. “Didn’t take long for them to interrupt. What was that, fifteen seconds?” He grumbled against the sensitive skin of her neck and she giggled.

      “Shorter.” Too short. Stella straightened in the seat and pushed what had to be her very unruly hair from her face. She glanced out the window to find out what Hayden was so excited about. “What’s it?” she finally asked, because all she saw were nondescript office buildings and parking lots.

      “The first thing I’m not supposed to do,” Hayden said, pointing to her right.

      Tony slowed and angled the car in front of a long aluminum building with a you-could-see-it-from-anywhere neon sign of a roller skate, flashing in bright green and blue. How had Stella missed that blinding splash of color?

      “You’re not supposed to roller-skate?” she asked. Stella could come up with half a dozen medical reasons a young woman of reasonable health shouldn’t skate, but none of them visibly applied to Hayden.

      “Well, it was a long time ago, but my grandparents had some definite ideas of the kind of trouble a girl could get herself into in the darkened corners of a roller rink.”

      Now that made sense. “All my preteen angst just came flooding back,” Stella admitted, awash in fond memories. When makeup was experimental (and forbidden) and her best friend had taught her how to practice kissing on her hand at a slumber party. Everything had seemed so important and boys too complicated.

      Actually,