Page 12 of Under Fire

A little smile spanned Alisa’s lips.

“I can’t,” she replied slowly, wondering how he’d gotten her number.Maybe Maria gave it to him.

“Tomorrow morning?”

She bit her lip, wondering what the hell to do. What was his endgame?

“You in?” he probed. “This kitchen sure as hell needs a cleaning.”

“Okay, fine. Tomorrow,” she squeaked, resolving to finish what she’d started.

Immediately, manic butterflies unsettled her stomach. The unbelievable reality dawned on her. She’d just made plans to return to him.

“One more thing,” he said, smooth as silk, “what do you like in your coffee?”

The question drew a curious laugh out of her, throwing her off guard. She subdued it, trying to correct herself.

“Cream—and lots of it,” she grinned, reaching a little too hard for her answer.

He offered her a chuckle in return as he ended the call, but it didn’t help. As she stared at the screen of her cell phone, she found herself shuddering.Cream—and lots of it?Why the hell did she say that? That wasn’t funny or cool. Grumbling to herself for being so weird, she anxiously flipped back to her notifications for a diversion. It hadn’t turned out to be a great morning for interpersonal skills.

Her fingers hovered over her recent calls, and she grasped the fact that she didn’t actually have Warren’s cell number—but he had hers. He’d called her from a blocked ID. A sense of surrender settled between her shoulder blades as she accepted that Warren was the type of man who liked being in charge—and their recent exchange had absolutely illustrated that. He liked holding all the power.

She chewed her lip, knowing full well thatsheliked that, too. And that was the problem, she thought, toying with the gold necklace holding her engagement ring. Something about Warren was simultaneously a little dangerous and unquestionably safe.

Grinning, Alisa turned to glance at the staff milling about in the hospital corridor. There was something so awakening about her dynamic with Warren. He was the type of hunter that she’d only dreamed about at night, when it was safe to fantasize. Something about their interactions made her feel like he’d been hunting her. Her thighs trembled at the thought of him on top of her, wondering what it would be like to stare back into those icy blue eyes while he—

Dr. Zucker poked his head out of the patient room, beckoning Alisa back inside, cutting through her thoughts. And that was a damn good thing, Alisa realized, as she sucked in a shallow breath. She’d have to be very careful with Warren.

She may not be a warm and squishy woman, bound for domestic bliss with three kids, but she wasn’t dead. And cleaning Warren’s house, enjoying how she aroused him, reminded her that she could feel…impossible, throbbing desire.

* * * *

Alisa arrived home a little later than usual. It was well and truly time to crash, she thought, chucking her keys and purse on the tiny apartment table. Shedding her blazer and slowly peeling off her clothes, she found herself flipping on the hot water tap in her out-of-date shower stall.

Standing in front of the cracked mirror that was slowly getting foggy, she pulled her long gold chain up and over her head, running her finger over the gaudy diamond on her engagement ring. She’d gotten away with keeping it on a necklace during med school because of all the latex gloves she had to haul on and off, but one day she’d have to reckon with the fact that it belonged on a finger. The size of the jewel and the style of the ring were so unlike her that they threatened to expose the truth.

She sighed as she placed the chain in the bowl on the counter and turned to hop into her sickly-pink tiled shower, a relic from the 1950s, to be sure.

Letting her long hair soak, steam wrapping her body in the glass stall, she started soaping her body with a luxurious shower gel that had once been given to her as a gift from Dean, her fiancé. The gift itself had been some sort of appeasement, a non-verbal apology for something he’d done…or hadn’t. She’d lost count over the years.

Grabbing the cheap plastic loofa, she grazed her skin. Sometimes it felt good just to feel something. She scrubbed harder and harder. A little pain sometimes felt right. To hell with anyone who called her unfeeling.

She wanted to take the moment to savor something that had been bubbling at the back of her mind like a small, delicious dark chocolate. In her hot shower, she immersed herself in a hotter fantasy. Fantasies were the only things that kept her sane throughout the long, lonely years of med school. And the thought of Warren leaning over her engine under the scorching sun was etched in her mind—him with a full body of muscle, shooting her sly looks. Those eyes. Those shoulders. That smile.

She chewed her lip, knowing it was all pure fantasy. Knowing it could never happen, she allowed the daydreams of Warren to erupt from sexual to emotional, distributing an intoxicating mix of chemicals throughout her brain. Maybe it was infatuation, maybe it was addiction—but those chemicals felt so damn good sometimes. And what happened between her two ears was her business and no one else’s.

She ran her hands up and down her body, soaping and awakening. She found her breasts, her nipples—and imagined Warren touching her. Pinching her. Gripping her. A soft moan escaped her lips as her arousal grew when she trailed one of her hands down her abdomen. She replayed the sound of him groaning, watching her from his couch, again and again in her mind. It was sending her over the edge. He’d wanted her.

She toyed with her hairless mound, teasing herself open, pretending it wasn’t her own hand. What would his hands feel like?Rough, calloused, strong, warm. She bit her lip, her eyes closed, circling her throbbing bud. Moaning, she kept the image of Warren working on her car front and center. God, he was too damn hot. The fantasy so real, so tangible—she knew it wouldn’t take long for her to climax.

He’d be a savage in bed. He’d be so dominant. She just knew it. She could push him over the edge—and he’d claim her without mercy. He’d claim her and teach her how to love and steal her away—

She knew he was the type of man that wouldn’t takenofor an answer.

Alisa let out a load groan, panting. She really liked how he seemed to like her. It was refreshing, really. As she found herself cresting the peak, she palmed the slippery shower tile for balance, feeling the rush.Damn.

Hot water flushing down her back, she straightened herself, then turned off the water and grabbed a towel. The excitement of having a plan to see Warren the next morning simmered to the surface. Drying off her skin and dark hair, she reminded herself that it never hurt to fantasize.

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