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Chapter 1
Slate
I bolt upright at the warble of my house alarm, adrenaline coursing through my veins. Even before my feet hit the floor, I grab my gun off the bedstand and slide off the safety. A familiar stab from my shoulder reminds me to take it easy. My stitches aren’t yet healed.
The nearby cell phone reads two in the morning, and I use its light to rush into the bedroom next door. With the noise off, I switch on the wall of monitors.
Shit. Most of the estate’s cameras are down because the goddam squirrels chewed through the wires. I never figured on needing them so soon but it’s pretty clear someone opened my front gate.
Barefoot, I rush past four empty bedrooms, jog the length of the living room and two kitchen islands. From there, I open the Anderson doors, pad onto the deck, and peer down at the source of my interrupted sleep.
Thirty feet back, my guest house is lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. It’s either some bold squatter or an incredibly stupid thief. Regardless, I plan to scare the shit out of them. Who the hell has the audacity to break into my fucking estate? It must be some out-of-towner. Most everyone around here knows better.
Ignoring the pain in my shoulder, I run down the deck steps and make my way across the cold, wet lawn. Worms squish under my toes, crickets stop chirping and inside, a woman sings lightly. I walk up to the bedroom window and look in.
Ah, shit.
A young woman undresses, sexy as hell. She’s got dark brown shoulder-length hair and pert breasts. She’s thin and her calves are muscular, like a runner. My gaze runs up her legs to the curls of her bush and blood runs south.
Ah, fuck it all to hell. Now I’m a pervert? I give her time to dress in pajamas which consist of tiny shorts and a tank top while I consider my next moves. Not too many years ago, I had a buddy blown to bits by a conniving bitch, almost as beautiful as her.
I keep that in mind as I rush to the front door and push it open. In the small kitchen, I figure it’s time to teach this little trespasser a lesson.
Pulling out my weapon, I shout, “Freeze!”
She slams the bedroom door, a lock clicks, and it takes me two strides to get past the kitchen table.
I bang on the white, painted oak. “Get out here, missy. You have some explaining to do.”
Not only am I pissed some intruder’s in my guesthouse, my shoulder hurts, and my cock’s gone hard. My fucking appendage should know better.
Looking down, it dawns on me I left my room in my birthday suit. I never expected to find a female, a gorgeous one at that. Shit, there’s nothing to do now but grab a throw-pillow and hold it in front of me.
Suddenly, being naked is the least of my problems. The door bursts open and she’s got a weapon. I kick, the gun flies, and my pillow drops. Screaming hysterically, she steps close and pounds her fists on my chest. When one of her blows breaks open my stitches, I’ve fucking had enough.
I grab her wrists, pin them over her head, and press her against the wall. “For crying out loud, stop.”
Her eyes scrunch shut and her heart thumps against my naked chest. Dammit, I didn’t mean to frighten her that badly.
“Look at me.” I step back about a foot as tears leak down her cheek, and she bites her lower lip.
“Fuck it all, I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to know what you’re doing on my property at two in the morning. I won’t call the police, if that’s what’s upsetting you.”
Her eyes pop open.
Ah hell, they’re dark chocolate with a few flecks of gold, framed by naturally thick lashes and no gooey shit. The tears sticking to them make me feel like a complete ass, so I move both her wrists to one hand and wipe away the waterworks with the other.
Her mouth moves, lips thick and red. “P-please don’t hurt me.”
I snort and glance down at my shoulder where blood flows from my open wound. “The only one injured is me. If I let you go, you promise not to fight? We can talk?”
She shakes her head up and down, silky locks on her shoulders. However, her gaze traverses to the open windows, the door, and finally between us where my cock has taken a huge interest.
“Sorry.” I let go of her, grab a sheet, and wrap it around my waist. “I sleep naked, and you caught me off guard… Sit. Please.”
“W-what do you want with me?” She eases down onto the edge of her bed, her eyes honing in on the gun by her feet which I pick up and turn around.
It’s a realistic-looking water pistol. “What the hell?”
