I almost yelp in surprise. The woman looks exactly like Brianne.
Well, not exactly. She’s taller, and her hair is dark brown whereas Brianne’s was almost blonde. This woman’s lips are fuller.
But it’s her eyes.
She arches her eyebrow and looks at me from the other side of her car. Slamming the back door closed, she slings her bag over her shoulder and starts walking toward the back of the car. She looks on the ground and then pokes her head toward the front of her car.
Finally, she turns back to me. I fold my arms across my chest, and her eyes flick to my biceps. I flex—I can’t help it.
“Don’t see your name on it.”
Her voice is like sarcasm dripping in honey. I imagine slamming her against the back of the car and running my hands up between those long legs of hers. I’d teach her a lesson about talking back.
“You know full-well that I was heading for it.”
“I didn’t even see you until you drove by,” she scoffs. She folds her arms over her chest, mimicking my movement. “You think being on the other end of the parking lot entitles you to all the spaces?”
She glances at my car, shaking her head. “Typical BMW driver.”
Blood rushes between my legs. My cock is rock hard as I stare at her perfect lips. Her steely grey eyes stare at me, defiant. I’m almost impressed. No one talks to me like this—ever.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I arch my eyebrow, taking a step toward her.
She waves her hand at my car, shaking her head. “You’re all entitled pricks.”
Shock silences me. Who is this chick?
She stares at me, challenging me to answer. Her long, slender fingers drum on her bicep as she waits for me to say something. I can’t though. I’m too busy wondering what those fingers would look like wrapped around my cock.
“As much as I’m enjoying this little staring contest,” she says, dropping her arms to her sides, “I’ve got some swimming to do. Or do you own the whole pool, too?”
“What if I did?” Great comeback.
She just rolls her eyes and walks toward the building. My eyes follow her, dropping down to the movement of her ass as she walks away.
“Enjoying the view?” She calls out without turning around.
Anger burns a hole in my chest. Who the fuck does she think she is? I jump back into my car and rage as I find another parking space.
All I wanted to do was come to the pool and swim some laps to cool down. I didn’t ask for this! First, she steals my parking space and then she gives me that fucking attitude.
I turn off the car and tighten my hands on the steering wheel. My knuckles turn white as I try to understand what’s going on inside me.
Maybe it’s just anger and adrenaline. This is just a rage boner. It’s not the way her eyes glided over my body, or the way she walked away from me. It’s not the way her voice zipped through my body like a bolt of lightning.
I wish I could bury my cock inside her and fuck the sarcasm right out of her voice. My chest heaves, and I close my eyes.
I’m just mad. I’m stressed about work. I’m stressed about today.
I look down at my crotch and take a deep breath. I squeeze my eyes shut, and all I can see is that sassy, irreverent, foul-mouthed beauty.
When my body has cooled down enough to walk into the building, I grab my bag and stomp toward the entrance… toward her.
3
Nicole
Adrenaline courses through my veins as I near the building. My cheeks feel red and my heart is thumping. I resist the urge to look back at the man.
How dare he come out and accuse me of stealing his parking space? First of all, who does that? And second of all, I did no such thing!
I clearly had my turn signal on before he did. I was the first one to get to the parking spot. How could he think he owned it?
Never mind the fact that his eyes were blazing with danger, and his whole body screamed sin. Never mind the fact that his biceps strained against his crisp white shirt. Never mind how he was staring at my body as if he wanted to rip my clothes off right then and there.
And I liked it.
No, he was an entitled prick. Nothing more.
Still, when I push the doors open, I can’t help but look back at the parking lot. His car is gone from the aisle, but I think I see it in the back corner of the lot. I take a deep breath and step inside.
Dwelling on assholes like that isn’t exactly going to help me prepare for my first day of work tomorrow. I should be calming down, not getting in fights over a parking spot. Who am I, George Costanza?
I inhale the scent of chlorine as I walk in. I rummage through my purse and find the swipe card, putting it next to the card reader to walk past the turnstiles.
I swipe it and step forward, like I always do. My legs bang up against the turnstile and I frown. I try swiping the card again but it just flashes red.
“Hi Nicole,” the receptionist, Mary, calls out. “Looks like your membership just expired yesterday. I can sign you up for another year, if you want?”
My eyebrows shoot up. Has it been a year already? It feels like I just paid the pool fee last month! I nod, walking over toward the front desk.
“Sure thing, Mary. Here.” I hand her the card and look for my wallet. She taps on the computer and smiles at me.
“Did you want to sign up for a full year? It’s four hundred for the year, or forty per month if you wanted to go month to month.”
My eyebrows shoot up. Four hundred dollars? I hadn’t planned for that at all.
I shake my head. “I’ll go for the month-to-month for now.”
“Are you sure? You’re here all the time, and it works out cheaper if you—”
“Month to month is fine.” My voice is strained, and I try to cover it up with a thin smile. Mary nods. My hand is shaking as I hand her my credit card. I definitely don’t have four hundred dollars before this card is maxed out, but forty should be okay.
She swipes the card just as the front door swings open. I close my eyes in mortification as the sexy stranger from the parking lot struts through the door. He has a small duffel bag in his hand, and he glances at me as his eyes blaze.
His shirt stretches over his chest, and his perfectly-tailored, expensive-looking pants make him look seven feet tall. Isn’t he cold? It’s below freezing and he isn’t wearing a jacket! His eyebrow arches as our eyes meet, and heat pools in the pit of my stomach.
My body is betraying me.
His eyes linger on mine, and my tongue slides out to lick my lower lip. His eyes darken as he watches my mouth, and the unfamiliar feeling of pure, primal desire floods through me.
The machine beeps.
“Oh! Sorry, Nicole, looks like it was declined. Do you have another card?”
God, I wish she’d keep her voice down. The sexy stranger turns his head toward me as he swipes his card through the turnstile. It clicks open for him, and he steps through. I can feel his eyes on me, and the embarrassment makes my whole head flush red.
“Nicole? Did you want to try another card?”
I nod. “Yeah, here,” I say. “Try this one.”
The stranger disappears around the corner and I breathe a sigh of relief. I shouldn’t be embarrassed—people’s cards get declined all the time. But in that specific moment, I wish it hadn’t happened to me.
When the second card gets declined, I’m on the edge of tears.
“I’m sorry, Mary,” I sigh. “I’m starting a new job tomorrow, so I might just have to forget about a membership for the time being. I can come back in a couple of weeks.”
“Hey, no.” She sighs, shaking her head. “You’re one of our most dedicated members! Here,” she says, swiping my membership card and tapping on the computer. “I’ve loaded up two weeks for free. Just get your membership paid as soon as you can.”
She smiles at me and hands me the card, and I think I might cry. I want to hug her, or run away, or do both. Ins
tead, I just take the card and nod my head.
“Thank you.” I want to say more, but my voice chokes up. My heart is still racing from desire and anger and embarrassment.
“Don’t mention it.” Mary smiles, and then leans toward me. “I mean that. Don’t mention it, I’ll get in trouble.” She grins at me and I laugh, nodding.
“Deal.”
This time, when I swipe the card, the turnstile opens and I walk through. It’s only a short walk to the women’s change room, and I’m able to keep my cool until I close the door.
With a deep, shuddering breath, I wipe my eyes and get changed.
Crying makes me angry now. It feels like I’ve done nothing but cry over the past year, and I’m completely over it. In the parking lot, it felt good to be mad. It felt good to feel something other than crushing darkness. I let the anger curl in my heart as I think of the stranger. I can still feel the trail of fire that his gaze burned into my skin. It singed my skin and marked me.
… and I liked it.
I walk out toward the pool. It’s busy tonight, with half of it cordoned off for lessons. Lap swimmers are contained to two lanes. One of the lanes is marked fast, and it already has three people in it. The other lane only has one man at the far end, so I slide in. The water is cold, and it takes me a second to get used to it. Then, with a deep breath, I start swimming.
When the physical therapist told me that I could start swimming again, it was the only good news I’d gotten in months. Since then, my recovery has been much smoother.
I start swimming freestyle, and the familiar burning in my muscles relaxes me. With every stroke, the stress of the day eases a little bit more. By the time I’ve reached the other end of the pool, my lungs are starting to work harder, and my body feels like my own again.
At the end of the next lap, the man has caught up to me. He’s swimming a lot faster than me, so I wait at the wall and let him turn ahead of me. I frown as he gets closer, and emotion flares in my chest again.
Is that him?
People look different with swim caps and goggles, and he flips at the wall too fast for me to see. His feet kick up and splash me, and then I know. It’s him.
I take a deep breath and swim another lap. He catches up to me faster this time, passing me in the middle of the lane. His powerful strokes pull him past me effortlessly, and I’m left dealing with the waves in his wake.
Normally, it wouldn’t bother me. But when he passes me a third time, I feel compelled to motion to him at the next wall.
He sputters and stops before turning.
“What?” He asks, lifting his goggles off his eyes. “What do you want?”
“Wow, rude.” I move my own goggles to my forehead. “I was just going to say that if you’re that fast, you should be in the fast lane. Haven’t you ever heard of pool etiquette?”
“I’ve heard of pool etiquette as much as you’ve heard of parking lot etiquette.”
“And what etiquette is that? That you own the whole thing?”
I’m not usually like this. I don’t know what’s come over me. Maybe it’s his broad, naked chest that’s so close to me in the pool. Maybe it’s the way the water is dripping down his face and shoulders, or the way he’s staring at me with pure anger in his eyes.
Whatever it is, it’s making my whole body heat up. Lust flares in the pit of my stomach and I squeeze my thighs together. We’re both hanging on to the edge of the wall, facing each other. The man points his thumb at the other lane.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, princess, the other lane is full.”
“Well then, let’s split this one. You stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine. Then we won’t have any of these traffic jams. Assuming you’re even capable of sharing.”
His nostrils flare. His eyes are crushed ice. He stares at me in a way that makes my cheeks flush and my heart skip a beat. My head spins, and I grip the edge of the pool a little bit harder. He’s almost incomprehensibly good-looking. He’s the kind of sexy that shouldn’t even be legal. He’s lethal.
“Fine.” His jaw tenses as he swallows.
I watch his throat bob up and down and suck my lower lip between my teeth.
“Fine.”
He takes a deep breath and pushes off the wall. I watch his back muscles ripple as he pulls himself into the water. My chest heaves as I take a few deep breaths, and then I get on my side of the pool.
4
Martin
Of course she would be in my lane. I try not to let it get to me, but as I swim from one end to the other, the heat in my chest starts to grow. Every time we pass each other in the lane—her on her side, me on mine, my anger burns a little hotter.
Finally, I can’t take it anymore. For something that was supposed to be relaxing and stress-relieving, it’s been the exact opposite. I pull myself out of the pool just as she gets to the wall. She grabs on to the end of it, her chest heaving.
She glances up at me, her eyes travelling from my face down to my chest. I stand, frozen in place by her gaze. She drops her eyes further, and my cock starts to get hard. That filthy tongue of hers swipes across her lower lip. I’d shove my cock straight into her pretty little mouth. That’s all she’d be good for.
“You coming back tomorrow?” She asks.
The question surprises me. I shrug. “I usually come every other day.”
She nods. “I’ll know what days to avoid, then.”
A grin twitches at her lips as we stare at each other for a few seconds. Then I nod. “I’ll see you around.”
“Hopefully not.”
I fight the grin off my face. Her smile widens, and she lifts her hand out of the water. Then, she pushes off the wall and is gone.
I grab my towel and dry myself, rubbing my hair as I watch her swim for a few seconds. When I finally walk away, I don’t know what to think.
I want to fuck her. No, it’s more than that. I want to bury my cock so deep inside her she forgets her own name. I want to wipe that smirk off her face and make her eyes roll back in her head. I want to fill her up with my cum and then have her taste it.
I want to make her mine, if only to show her that I don’t appreciate her attitude.
Glancing once more toward the pool, I turn the corner into the change room.
My whole world feels off-balance. I thought the swim would make me forget about Brianne and tire me out. Instead, I feel completely wired. It’s like a bolt of lightning has passed through me, in the form of a five-foot four, black-haired, sassy-mouthed vixen.
When I walk out of the change room, I glance toward the pool and feel my pulse speed up. I can still picture the little grin on her face as she waved at me. Blood rushes between my legs. No woman has had this effect on me since…
Well, since Brianne.
My heart hardens again, and I shake my head. A moment of weakness. That’s all that was. If I see her again, I’ll do her a favor and fuck her like her eyes were begging me to.
Until then, I won’t think of her.
I walk out of the building. I avoid the old Honda Civic and walk toward my car, not looking back as I drive away.
I get out of bed after another fitful night’s sleep. I haven’t slept more than four hours a night in the past year. At least I’ve figured out that a cold shower and two cups of coffee make me feel somewhat normal by the time I get to work.
Somehow, though, I feel more tired than usual today. I make myself a third cup of coffee as I head out the door. By the time I make it to the office, I’m almost starting to feel human again.
But then, the elevator doors open and the sickly-sweet smell of lilies crawls up my nostrils. My mood darkens.
Maybe putting the lilies at the front desk wasn’t such a good idea, after all. I should have tossed them in the trash when I had the chance.
I head toward the kitchen, passing Carmen’s office along the way. She’s a name partner at the firm—Carmen Sanders of the biggest law firm in Denver, Sanders & Perry—and the one who
nominated me for my promotion this year. I lean against her doorway.
“Morning, Carmen,” I say. She looks up from her computer screen.
“Martin, hi.” She takes her glasses off and rubs her eyes. “How long have you been standing there? My head is a wreck. This case is a nightmare.”
“The Guildford Media class-action suit?”
She nods. “I’m going to need some extra resources. Would you be able to take it on?”
I think of the ever-growing stack of case files on my desk and then shrug. “Sure. What do you need?”
She points to a box of paperwork. “Those are two of our clients. I need someone to look through the file and start coming up with a strategy. I have a new paralegal starting today, but it’ll take a while for her to get up to speed.”
“Sure,” I say, grabbing the box. “No problem, Boss.”
“I’m not your boss anymore.”
I grin. “I thought you liked being called boss, Boss.”
Carmen just shakes her head, grinning. “Get to work, Henderson. Get me a coffee while you’re at it.”
“Hey, I’m a partner now, not your assistant. Get your new paralegal to do it.”
Carmen just rolls her eyes, dismissing me with a wave.
I lug the heavy box back toward my office. I’m busy, but I’ve never been one to turn down more work. My mind keeps threatening to go back to the dark-haired tease from the pool yesterday. I need more coffee.
I head to the kitchen and pour two cups of coffee from the pot and head back toward Carmen’s office. I may not be her assistant, but I owe her a lot more than a cup of coffee. She looks like her morning has been rougher than mine, if that’s even possible.
The door is ajar, so I push it open with my back. When I turn around, I see who Carmen is talking to. That dark hair…
The woman leans over to grab something out of her bag and I almost trip over my own feet. A strangled yelp escapes my lips and the coffee sloshes in one of the cups. I gasp in pain as it spills on my hand, and then I drop the cup on Carmen’s white rug.
Love/Hate: The Complete Enemies to Lovers Series Page 2
