Page 12 of Breaking Free

Twenty minutes later, because the line took all of his ten-minute allotment, Tristan stood in a shady spot beside the pool, sipping from his red Solo cup. He engaged in small talk with a few of his neighbors and some industry associates Hunter had invited, actors and crew from a drama series he’d directed. The show had received critical acclaim, but unfortunately only mediocre ratings and ended after only one season.

The conversation about their new projects included a lot of name-dropping. He attempted to feign interest, but his attention kept returning to the volleyball game in the water. More specifically, to Piper, who was wearing a yellow bikini that left little to the imagination.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her as she spiked the ball and dove for saves, her athleticism on display, but not as much as her curves. Tristan felt a familiar heat building in his veins, his body reacting to the sight of her in ways it shouldn’t for an experienced man of his age.

“Tristan, you okay there, bud?” Hunter’s question broke through his haze of desire and was a welcome distraction.

“I’m fine,” he replied, trying to focus on anything other than the pool and the desire threatening to consume him. “I just remembered a work matter that needs attending to. If you’ll excuse me.”

Without waiting for a response, Tristan strode to the nearest exit. Trying to walk normally with a hard-on wedged against his zipper, not an easy feat. He drained his cup before pitching it into the trash beside the wrought iron gate. It did little to cool his body and his longing for the too-innocent blonde who had to be fifteen years his junior. That only added to the reasons he needed to keep his distance, no matter how tempting she was.

No longer in the mood to be around others, instead of heading to the club as planned, he threw a few things into a duffel bag. The two-hour drive to Santa Barbara would clear hishead and hopefully rid his thoughts of a yellow string bikini. Except, having made the trip at least once a month for the past six years, he could navigate the familiar route with ease, and his thoughts drifted.

He’d seen beautiful women before. What was it about her smile, that dimple, and her killer legs in shorts that haunted him? He imagined her wrapped around him, heels digging into his ass, her hips meeting his thrust for thrust. And he dreamed of seeing her in an intricate tie, suspended from the club ceiling, her long hair sweeping toward the floor. He wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation of driving into her heat, over and over, until their shouts echoed off the rafters as they found release.

“Idiot,” he grumbled, shifting in his seat as he adjusted himself. “You’re supposed to be thinking of anything but Piper.”

He forced himself to think about less arousing things. Hard-on killers like the obstacle course drills in the rain and mud during basic training or the morning runs during selection with a fifty-pound pack and the grueling four m.p.h. pace they had to maintain. Or jumping from a chopper into freezing water. He’d done the last twice in his career with Nolan, who’d had to overcome a mild fear of heights to pass Airborne training.

Thoughts of his friend reminded him of the reason he drove the all-too-familiar route. The obligation, which he took on willingly—how could he not?—was a labor of love. But he dreaded it for dredging up vivid memories of a pivotal time in his life that he couldn’t, and likely wouldn’t, ever entirely bury.

One thing was certain, his dismal thoughts were a sure-fire way of taking care of his uncomfortable problem.

Chapter 5

PIPER STOMPED UP THEsteps, slammed through the gate, and headed straight for #110—completely livid. The utter gall of the man!

She had tried everything to make friends and get him to lighten up, but he grew increasingly rude with each interaction. On top of that, he was a liar. He’d said no when she asked point-blank if he was attending yesterday’s party then showed up chugging a beer and chatting with Hunter and his friends. She hadn’t acknowledged him, hurt that he disliked her so much he felt the need to lie.

The note she found in her mailbox had pushed her over the edge.

Just a friendly reminder, it’s always a good idea to choose suitable attire when attending a family-friendly event at the complex. Revealing too much skin might unintentionally give others the wrong impression.

She’d read it through twice, stunned anyone would be so brazen. Clearly, the writer referred to Hunter’s pool party, as it was the only event she had been to since moving in. Incensed, she crumpled the rude note in her hand. She might have a few more curves than the average girl, but her conservative bikini wasn’t more revealing than what any other woman wore at the party.

The cowardly note was unsigned, but after the comment he’d made about her skirt, which was perfectly professional, she knew it was from the grouch next door. She wasn’t about to let it slide without giving him a piece of her mind.

She envisioned steam billowing out of her ears as she knocked sharply on Tristan’s door. When he opened it, she didn’t waste even a fraction of a second before unloading on him.

“Do you make a habit of being a jerk, or do you reserve that pleasure only for me?”

“Hello to you too, Piper,” he replied in a languid drawl.

“You have some nerve, you know that?”

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