Page 18 of Under Fire

Her thighs quivering, and she grasped the edge of the countertop for stability. If nothing else, Warren proved to her that blood still pumped in her veins, and she’d been neglected for far too long. Like, four years too long. The gold chain was searing into her neck, the sham of her so-called engagement ring burning between her breasts, and for the very first time, she regretted her deal with Dean.

Studying Warren from the shadows, she saw a gorgeous tattoo sprawled across his upper back and over his shoulder, accentuating his rippling muscles. Every aspect of his body looked like a bronze statue, even with that massive scar that ran up the side of his back toward the top of his spine. It just made him look even more dangerous, more badass, like the type of man who could actually fight Dean and win.

Alisa fumbled backward, hitting the table behind her as she watched Warren run his hand absently up his cut abdomen. How was it even possible to have so much definition, she gasped as she gripped the counter so tight that she feared she was leaving imprints.

It was at that exact moment that Alisa realized she had to calm down—but still,holy hell. Warren…was something else.

Mr. Goddamn Perfect.

“I didn’t know they made men like this,” she groaned to herself, widening her eyes as he turned back to the house.

Her pussy immediately throbbed as his gaze seemed to penetrate the glass, screwing something hot right into her chest. Shit, the man made it hard to breathe. Dirty cloth still in hand and dazed, she stepped to the patio door, staring. He shot her a curt nod, beckoning her to him.Ordering her.Then he leaped into the pool, popping up and whipping his gleaming auburn hair back.

Why shouldn’t she?A thousand reasons.Grumbling to herself, her body and mind at war, she opened the door slowly, peaking out like a timid kitten.

I can’t.

“Coming out?” Warren called over to her, that same self-assured grin on his lips.

She stepped out, closing the door behind her carefully and fidgeting on the step. She had to wipe the thought of Dean from her mind, reminding herself that he was on the opposite side of the country for the time being. She was safe. It was a gated community. She could breathe.

“I’m finished,” she reported to Warren, biting her lip as she watched his biceps bobbing in and out of the water.

An inevitable pause struck as he thrust himself up on the side of the pool, his muscles flexing in harmony.

“You sure about that?” he countered and nodded to the poolside patio table and chairs. “Looking a little grimy, don’t you think?”

His bottom half still in the water, he looked her up and down with that same hungry look she’d gotten used to—the one she craved. He looked like a hunter and a protector—and she just felt safe with him.

With that, it was game on.

That familiar tugging at her lips told her that she was well under his spell. Unable to say no, she found herself bringing the cloth over to the glass top table and giving it a good wipe down. Just like a few days ago, she felt the heat of his gaze as he watched her scrub. And just like a few days ago, she felt a similar flush up her neck and cheeks, equal parts dying and coming alive.

To the stone steps at the edge of the pool, he leisurely walked up and out, letting all that water cascade down his rock-hard body. A little part of her wanted to cry. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was getting back at her by teasing her harder than she’d ever teased him. As her lips parted, powerlessly drinking him in, she couldn’t look away from his soaking wet boardshorts and how they clung to his package, revealing a thick manhood that made her quiver.

As if sensing his power over her, the clearly confident man seized a chair on his stone patio, swung it to him and sat down. Leaning back, he gazed at her with intensity and gestured to the table.

“Missed a spot.”

Her mouth now fully agape, she glanced back at the table she’d just cleaned. So, that was the level he was playing at. A game she desperately wanted to win—she reached over the glass top, wiping toward her, letting him enjoy a full view of her ass in her tight yoga capris. Unlike before, she didn’t hear him groan or squirm, and her disappointed gaze flitted back to him.

“I’ve got some bad news for you,” Warren started.

“What… What do you mean?” Her body stilled as she waited, a deep sense of unease rising in her stomach.

His face grew dead serious. “Your car— I did what I could but it’s going to die on you sooner rather than later unless you rebuild that engine.”

Her mouth dropped, her head beginning to spin. “But that would cost…”

“Thousands.”

“…just as much as just buying something else.” She felt her shoulders drop.

She did not want to be stuck in a situation where she was having to sit on the bus for hours in the middle of the night after a long shift at the hospital. Not a chance—not in LA. Her car was the only thing getting her through it all.

But she didn’t havethousands.

Warren leaned forward, glancing down at the tabletop, shaking his head as if she hadn’t done a good enough job. His demeanor changed in a flash, thick tension spreading through the air between them, and Alisa realized that the game was back on.

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