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o pound faster when he saw bare ass cheeks peeking out from under the bottom of her orange tie-dyed T-shirt.
“Are you naked?” he asked.
Roxanna gasped and whirled back to face him, her hands going down to tug the hem of her shirt lower in both the front and the back while she stooped at the knees. He watched the neckline stretch down…and down some more.
His breath hitched as the material pulled taut against her chest and her pebbled nipples poked against the multi-colored cotton. Her breasts were on the small side, but he’d bet they’d still fit his hands perfectly.
Blood rushed to his groin, and his erection hardened once more.
Fuck. He’d always hated his body’s reaction to his brother’s best friend. How the hell could he be so physically attracted to a woman he didn’t respect and couldn’t stand?
“I just took a shower and didn’t have an extra pair of clean underwear,” she explained, her cheeks bright red.
Explains the wet hair—and the bare ass. And whatever the hell smells like a spicy, tropical beach.
“How did you not hear me?” she accused with a frown. As if he was the one to blame for not stopping her from getting into bed with him.
“I was sleeping.” And clearly, thoroughly exhausted after his twelve hour drive from Texas if he slept through her showering.
But he sure as hell was awake now. His traitorous mind conjured up an image of her tall, slim body all wet and soapy with those long, brunette curls of hers streaming down her spine to the dimples at the small of her back. Too bad he hadn’t woken up for that.
His body throbbed hard in response, and annoyance surged right after. “Don’t you have your own apartment?”
Her expression froze, then she bit her lip as her throat worked in a hard swallow. “I did.”
When she didn’t add more to make sense, he raised his eyebrows. “And now you don’t?”
“Now I don’t.”
She looked like she might cry, and he wondered why she was being so damn cryptic at—he reached sideways to check his phone on the night stand—three a.m.?
“So, what the hell?” he prompted in exasperation. “Your boyfriend throw you out?”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Good to know.
No! That’s the last thing he cared about.
“Did you not pay your rent and get evicted in the middle of the night?” he asked with a sneer.
When he noticed her white knuckles against the backdrop of the orange T-shirt clenched in her fingers, his gut tightened with suspicion. Something wasn’t right here.
“I didn’t know you were here.”
“Yeah, you said that already.”
Which begged the question, if she really was the psychic she claimed to be, shouldn’t she have ‘seen’ he was here? Sensed him, or a presence, at the very least?
It was too late—or early—to start that argument, but she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to be going anywhere, so he swung his legs over the edge of the bed to swipe his briefs off the floor.
“What are you doing?”
Her shrill question made him pause. “I’m not going to sit here naked while you stand there staring at me.” He paused and tilted his head slightly to the right. “Unless you want to strip and join me again?”
Her nose scrunched up. “Ew. No.”
The immediate response would have been a real ego blow, except her gaze dropped to his bare chest, and then tracked down to the sheet across his lap. Color bloomed in her cheeks, and she whirled toward the door.
