Ryan pulled his T-shirt over his head as he entered Christina’s bedroom. His faded jeans were next, dropping to the weathered hardwood next to his discarded shirt. He could make out Christina’s form in the shadows, curled up on her side under a puffy blue comforter.

He grinned in the darkness. These were his favorite kind of wake-up calls.

He moved to the bed and lifted up the edge of the comforter, easing his way under the heavy cover and spooning against Christina from behind. Lowering his head to her neck, he breathed in the appealing scent of…orange blossoms? She usually smelled like plain old Ivory soap, but Ryan wasn’t complaining. He liked this new scent. A lot.

“You smell delicious,” he rasped into her ear, one arm reaching around her waist to pull her closer.

She whimpered in her sleep, wiggling her ass against his now-throbbing erection. Wow. He was wildly aroused. Not that Christina didn’t usually turn him on, but this was…different. Every muscle in his body was taut, coiled tight like a rattlesnake ready to strike, and his pulse drummed in his ears in sharp, rapid beats. She felt soft and warm against him, and that scent drove him crazy. He suddenly couldn’t wait to be inside her.

“Come on, baby, roll over,” he murmured.

She shifted, and he helped her along by cupping her ass cheeks and moving her onto her back. He frowned as he ran his hands over that ass, which was much rounder and sweeter than he remembered. And come to think of it, her hair was longer too. Five days ago, when he’d last seen her, she’d had a short blonde bob. Now her hair cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves. And the tits beneath that thin tank top seemed bigger too—

Clarity sliced through his mind at the same time the woman beneath him blinked open her eyes. A pair of brown—not blue—eyes stared up at him in shock.

Ryan shot up into a sitting position, a wave of surprise slamming into his chest. Fuck. Oh, f**k. This was not Christina.

“Oh my God,” came a high, terrified voice.

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Nope, definitely not Christina.

He opened his mouth to apologize just as the curvy, curly-haired female bounded to the edge of the bed, shoved the comforter up to her neck, and said, “Please don’t rape me!”

Chapter Two

Ryan was off the bed so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. He didn’t embarrass easily, but the sight of the terrified woman on the bed brought a wave of mortification to his gut. Shit. He’d accosted a complete stranger. Where the hell was Christina?

He opened his mouth to explain but the stranger he’d just felt up was suddenly on her feet too, and the next thing he knew, she hurled the little lamp on the bed table at his head.

Ryan caught it easily. “Hey, listen!” he shouted. “I’m not here to—”

But the woman wasn’t listening. Instead, she’d started babbling. “Seriously, you don’t want to do this. I have, like, eight different types of STDs, so your health is at risk and really, who wants to be at risk?” Her words kept popping out like coins from a slot machine. “I’m actually doing you a favor here, Mister. You should go find someone else to rape—wait, that’s not what I mean, because you shouldn’t be doing this to any woman, ever, I’m not encouraging this at all, I’m just saying…” Her voice trailed off, and that spark of fear returned to her face. She looked around wildly, as if scanning the room for another weapon.

Ryan stared at her for a moment, bewildered.

Then he burst out laughing.

A pair of chocolate-brown eyes glared at him. “Seriously? You’re laughing at me?” Her tone hardened with anger, while one slender arm stuck out and fumbled for something on the nightstand. “I’m giving you five seconds to get the hell out of here, you…you sexual predator!” She made a victorious sound as she found what she was looking for—a cell phone. “I’m calling the police, ass**le!”

Ryan’s laughter died in his throat. No matter how entertaining he found this woman, he wasn’t in the mood to be dragged off to jail. “Hey, now, wait,” he said immediately, setting the lamp she’d thrown at him down on the floor then holding his hands up as if he were surrendering. “This is just a misunderstanding, babe.”

“Babe? I am not your babe.” Her finger jammed on a button on the phone. “Nor will I be your rape victim so—”

“I’m not here to rape you,” he cut in, running one hand through his hair in frustration. “Would you just shut up for a second so I can explain?”

Her eyes flashed, but her mouth promptly closed. Ryan drew in a calming breath, collecting himself, all the while noticing just how freaking hot the woman in front of him was. Along with those vibrant brown eyes and amazing dark hair, she had delicate features that included a cute upturned nose, high cheekbones and sexy pink lips, the bottom one fuller and poutier than the top. Was she a friend of Christina’s? And if so, why had Christina never introduced them?

“You’re not explaining,” she said, shooting him a dirty look.

Ryan sighed. “Look, I came here to see Christina, okay? I thought you were her when I got into bed with you.”

“Christina?” she echoed.

“Yes. Christina. You know, the woman who lives here.” He frowned. “So who the hell are you and why are you in her bed?”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in her bed?” she shot back.

More frustration crept up his spine. “Are you always this f**king difficult?”




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