Page 10 of Stalked By the Recruiter

That was how I planned on staying.We make plans, and life laughs.My mom’s words floated through my head, and I winced. I’d forgotten to ask Stella about joining me on the happy hour date my mom had set up.

“Shit,” I mumbled, stuffing my keys into my purse when a shadow cast over me. I looked up and blinked, unable to believe it was him. “Andres,” I accidently whispered and watched the stupid sexy grin on his face grow.

“You remembered my name.”

“In case I had to call campus security,” I clipped. I didn’t know why I was playing so hard to get, but there was something in me that had my hackles all bristled around him. Almost like I knew if I didn’t try and fight the visceral attraction I felt, I’d give into it, and he’d break my heart.

At thirty-four, I had already experienced my share of loss and heartache to last me a lifetime. I didn’t need any more. And the man might as well be named Toni Braxton, because he hadHeartbreak Hotelwritten all over him.

“You’re funny.” He grinned. I opened and shut my mouth, not sure of what to say. I’d been rude to the guy, and he thought I was funny? Butterflies started to flap their wings in my belly, and instead of overthinking what that meant, I took a moment to take him in. To really soak in the sight of him.

We’d stood in front of one another at the library. But without the information desk and the small step stool I liked to use behind it, our height difference was obvious. Andres Montoya was about a foot taller, if not more, than my five-foot nothing height. Yet, he felt bigger than that somehow. The handsome man basically towered over me.

But not in an intimidating way.

Not the way I would have felt with any other man his size.

There was no hiding the muscular body that lay beneath his clothes. And the guy knew how to dress, too. Where most of the football staff, men and women, usually wore athleisure wear, Andres Montoya didn’t. He dressed like the coaches on game day. Like he was camera and runway ready at the drop of a hat.

Today, he was in a black button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up his sinewy muscled arms and navy-blue dress slacks that fit as if they had been tailor made for his body. Not to mention, I knew just how good they made his ass look since I’d caught myself staring at him when he walked away with the book he checked out.

If the way he dressed wasn’t bad enough, there was the way he smelled. The man smelled incredible. Whatever cologne he used smelled expensive and woodsy and completely masculine with a hint of spice. It always lingered in the air after he left the library. I would be lying if I didn’t spend a significant amount of time while on a Sephora trip over the weekend trying to figure out what he wore.

“Was there something you needed?” I asked, choosing not to comment on his whole me being funny comment.

“Nope.” He shook his head. “I was just heading home. Guess I lucked out with timing.”

“You did?”

“I think we might be neighbors,” he shared just as I turned and started to walk. Not missing a step, he walked next to me.

“I doubt that,” I mumbled, somehow fighting the temptation to look at him. Why was I so attracted to him? The pull I felt when it came to Andres was crazy. My curiosity had sparked to life as well as my body, it seemed. My breasts felt heavy and nipples tight behind my bra while wet heat started to grow between my thighs. “We haven’t had anyone move into my neighborhood,” I mustered.

“That makes sense.” My brows bunched.

“What makes sense?” I asked, confused. It felt like he enjoyed talking in riddles.

“That you wouldn’t have noticed me,” he said ominously, baiting me, and I gave in. My head turned in his direction, and I couldn’t get over how beautiful he was. Andres Montoya waseasily the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on, and that was saying something. There were a bunch of hot men on campus. One in the Spanish department was called Professor Caliente by other female staff and students.

Before I could stop myself, I asked, “What do you mean?”

“I mean I live behind you.” His words slowly processed in my head. “Or I think it’s behind you. I’ve seen you walk—” he started to clarify. My steps slowed down. “Not because I’m following you,” he quickly corrected, slowing his own steps down as well. “Jesus, I suck at this,” he muttered under his breath, almost to himself. “I’m coming off like a real creeper, aren’t I?”

“Was that your goal?” I asked sassily. “Because if it was, gold star, Montoya.” I stopped walking, and he did, too. I crossed my arms over my chest. I didn’t miss the way his gaze dipped down for a whisper before they connected with mine again.

“No.” He swallowed hard.

My eyes dipped to his Adam’s apple. Pronounced and proud, it bobbed up and down. The motion made something inside of me flicker to life. I shook the dark sexy thought away. Suddenly, my mouth watered for a taste of his skin. The image of my tongue running up the side of his neck, feeling his roughened scruffy skin, tasting it and the salt of his sweat, overtook my mind.Where the hell did that come from?I wondered, stepping back.

“I really wasn’t trying to be creepy,” he explained, taking the step I’d taken the wrong way. Not that I’d correct him. “I just wanted to introduce myself,” he added, and I didn’t hesitate.

“Great!” I clipped. “You did that. Are we done here?” I sounded like a bitch. I was coming off rude and completely defensive, but I couldn’t help it. That need to lick and taste his neck sparked something inside of me. Suddenly, the summer night felt hotter, my dress felt too tight, and my body felt like it was prickling with awareness from head to toe. I wiped theperspiration off my forehead. “It’s hot, and I would like to get home.”

“Right. Okay—“ It was evident Mr. Montoya was not used to being turned down. I had no idea what he wanted, but whatever he was selling, I wasn’t buying.Liar,a little voice, one that sounded a lot like the one who had brought up the idea of tasting him, mumbled in my head. “Well, umm?—“

“Good.” I turned and started moving again. His steps sounded heavy behind me, and I scowled. I kept my head held up high. I had no idea why I was ignoring him. We were both going in the same direction. By the looks of it, he’d walked to campus like I had. I wasn’t sure why I was suddenly simultaneously ticked off and turned on.

“So, being back after a couple years, I noticed the city has changed,” he said behind me, but I didn’t say a word.

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