Chad looked her in the eye and lifted his hand to the waistband of his flannel pants. Her breathing thickened as she waited. His body was sinful in its perfection. Her eyes stayed glued to his large fingers as they slipped under the elastic.
She practically drooled when they dropped to the floor and he stood before her with nothing on. She could feel the saliva building in her mouth. She wanted to taste him, run her tongue along his washboard abs, straight down to his manhood, and slip his head deep into her mouth.
She gave up on the game of chase and took a step toward him, her eyes finally lifting to his eyes, which were narrowed in desire. The depths of his blue eyes were darkened to the color of a stormy ocean.
At that moment she held all the power – and yet none at all. He could bring her to her knees, but knowing she could do the same to him, made her able to stand.
Bree's trouble with stalkers, memory loss, and bullets flying all faded. She forgot about everything but the deep need inside her stomach – the burning sensation invading her body.
The phone rang.
"Ignore it," he commanded as he stepped toward her.
It rang over and over.
"Don't you have an answering machine?" she asked with frustration.
"Didn't think I needed one. I'm regretting that now," he said as it continued to ring. Their caller was persistent.
Chad finally stomped over to the phone and practically ripped it from the wall.
"This better be damn important," he yelled into the phone.
He paused as he listened, and Bree watched in frustration as he answered in one syllable clips. Within a minute, he was grabbing his pants and sliding them back on. She nearly screamed in sexual frustration.
Obviously the call was important. He'd quickly forgotten about their game.
"We'll be there," he finally said, then hung up the phone.
He turned to her and she knew she wasn't going to get her needs met. It was obvious from the anger on his face.
"That was your brother. There was a break in at your place last night. We're assuming it was after the bastard left here. This is the second time, now. We should've kept the place under surveillance, but we didn't think he'd go back," he said in frustration as he ran his fingers down his face. "I'm in your presence for thirty seconds and I seem to forget how to do my job," he sighed, almost as an afterthought.
"What do you mean your job?"
Chad looked at her like a dog that had just wet on the carpet.
"I repeat, what job are you referring to?"
"Don't get all bent out of shape. I just meant … I need to be watching out for you," he tried to cover.
"That's crap and you know it. Tell me the truth, now," she demanded.
"Okay, well, your brothers were worried about you, and rightfully so, because this creep was sending all kinds of letters about how you should be with him, so they figured you needed protection," he said.
"Are you my freaking bodyguard?" she demanded to know.
"It's not like that, Bree." He tried to pacify her.
"You are, aren't you?"
"Originally, yes, I was asked to guard you. But I'm not being paid to do it. I wanted to," he said in a half-truth. He hadn't wanted to babysit her in the beginning, but now they couldn't pay him to stay away.
"This just keeps getting better. So, what? You were guarding the princess, got bored, and decided to bed me to pass the time," she practically shouted.
"It wasn't like that. We slept together because neither of us could keep our hands off the other. You've never complained, so don't act all high and mighty," he shouted back.
Their morning wasn't going the way he wanted it to go, and he'd much rather be ripping her clothes off than fighting over something insignificant.
"We need to get ready and go to your place," he said as he walked to the bedroom. Bree was right behind him.
"I'm not going anywhere until you explain everything to me," she stormed.
Bree watched in amazement as he ignored her tantrum and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door with a resounding click. She thought about pounding on the wood until she drove him crazy, but finally decided to just get dressed. He wasn't going anywhere – she'd get information one way or the other.
Chapter Thirteen
Bree stepped into her home and looked around. She was hoping the familiar surroundings would jar her memory, but the more she looked over her items, the more frustrated she became. She didn't feel a personal connection to any of it. Nothing – not even a twinge.
"It's okay, Bree. You didn't live here very long. Don't expect a floodgate of memories to come flying back," Chad reassured her, reading the emotions on her face.