Page 22 of Savage Rule

Validating my assessment that there aren’t cameras everywhere, is a couple in the middle of an intense make out session, maybe even more, but it’s hard to tell with all the bubbles. They probably assume that given the hour, they have all the privacy in the world to do whatever they want.

Gross. Anyone else that uses the Jacuzzi tomorrow will be bathing in their juices. I think of all the public pools I’ve been in and cringe.

They don’t notice me as I go past them, too absorbed in their tryst, their sloshing sounds covering my footsteps.

A light in one of the second-floor rooms turns on. I press myself against the wall as a large shadowy figure appears at the French doors of the balcony. The curtains move aside only slightly, but even through the sliver of a view I can tell it’s Gunn before he disappears back into the room.

Giving the couple one last glance to make sure they’re still busy, I easily climb one of the many oak trees encroaching on the buildings and jump onto the balcony.

I listen intently for any sound before I peer inside. Through the sheer panels, I can easily see the huge room. Football is playing on the flat screen TV set on an antique dresser. Across from that, on the queen wrought iron bed is an open suitcase with clothes set all around it, as if he’s in the middle of packing.

Is he leaving New Orleans?

I consider texting Gideon the possibility when beyond the bed I spot the light and steam emanating from the bathroom.

He’s showering.

My heart skips a beat as the unheeded image of Gunn Sinclair in all his naked glory barges into my brain. Unheeded, but certainly not unwelcome.

“Such a shame,” I mumble to myself as I work the flimsy lock and step inside. Either he needs a lesson in security measures, or he thinks he’s that good at protecting himself.

Or maybe he’s expecting you…

This could be a trap. I’d certainly never stay in a place like this without setting up my own security. Then again, the only thing I have going atLa Maison Rougeis Miss Sherry.

Cautiously, I go the bathroom door that’s been left ajar and peer inside. Through the foggy mirror, I can see him showering in the glass enclosed space, and it’s a clear enough view that it has my salivary glands working overtime.

I can literally feel my pupils dilate as my eyes follow the movement of his hands over his broad chest, the way his muscles flex as he scrubs his dark, wet skin, and spreads soapy suds only for them to drip down his abs.

He turns just as I lower my gaze to catch a glimpse of what he’s packing, but instead get a view of his ass. I’m not disappointed though, because it’s the kind of ass I could stare at for a long time.

And he has Venus Dimples. Of course he would. A grin tugs my lips to one side as I take in the deep indents on his lower back.

You want to lick those too, don’t you?my little she-devil asks and I nod in response.

When the mirror becomes too foggy to see through, I curse silently. However, it’s for the best. I have work to do and drooling over my target isn’t it.

But damn, what a pretty target he is.

7

GUNN

Some muffled sound wakes me from a sleep so deep, I don’t recall dreaming.

Fuck me, I must have been out for hours because when I try to open my eyes, they’re dry, my lids like sandpaper. I’m parched too, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth as if I’ve been walking in a desert for miles.

I roll my head toward the nightstand and finally manage to crack open one eye to search for something to drink. But what I see instead has me frowning in confusion. In place of the water I expect, what I find is a small brown bottle with a rag draped over it and beside that… A pile of pennies?

“What the—” My senses seem to return all at once and I suddenly realize I’m not alone. “You!” I hiss at the sight of the hellcat peering down at me, a large knife in her fist.

“Hello, Dimples. Did you have a good nap?”

I immediately attempt to sit up, but something stops me. “What the…” Ropes. Each of my limbs is tied to one of the iron spindles of the bed. With my black T-shirt torn down the center of my chest, I look like I’m about to be sacrificed.

When I fail to break free, she gives me a pleased smile. Then, as if she has a right to, she throws a leg over my hips andstraddles me. And fuck me again because the way she fits on me feels like she definitely has a right to be there.

Cocking my head, I grin at her. “Why, if it isn’t my friend, Peaches. Made yourself at home, I see.” I purposely let my gaze rove over her, from her blond head to the place where I’m nestled so perfectly between her legs. “What brings you ‘round theseparts?” I pump my hips upward.

---