Her gaze slipped down his length, pausing at that revealing appendage. “Holy shit.” If possible, her cheeks grew even redder. She grabbed a towel and flung it at him. Then she ducked beneath his arm and dove for the bedroom dresser.
A chuckle rose up Wyatt’s throat as he watched the smooth, rounded derriere dart past him. The pink shorts had nothing on the smooth pale, white flesh of her pretty bottom.
“A gentleman wouldn’t stare,” she said, her voice breathy as she jammed her feet into a pair of panties.
“I never claimed to be a gentleman.” Wyatt wrapped the towel around him, the front tenting out. No matter how hard he tried to think his way out of the erection, seeing the redhead slide into her panties only made him harder.
“At the very least, you could turn around.”
He shook his head. “Sorry, darlin’. I never turn my back on strangers. Especially if the stranger is trespassing in my room and has a sexy ass.”
She huffed, grabbed a bra out of a drawer and turned her back to him, that very sexy bottom holding his interest more than he should admit, the thong panties doing nothing to cover the glorious orbs.
“I told you, this is my room. I reserved it months ago,” she threw over her shoulder.
“Guess we’ll have to let the desk clerk sort it all out.”
When she turned back, dressed in a sexy black bra and matching lace panties, she planted her hands on her hips. “Why aren’t you getting dressed?”
He nodded to the duffle bag on the floor beside the dresser. “Just waiting for you to move so that I can get to my clothes.”
She stomped past him to the closet, pulled out a gray skirt suit and an orange sherbet blouse and faced him, holding the suit in front of her like a shield. “Do you mind?”
He shook his head. “Not at all.” He remained leaning against the doorway to the bathroom. When she continued to stare at him pointedly, he straightened. “I take it you want me to let you by so that you can dress in the bathroom.”
“That would be the gentlemanly—”
“—thing to do.” His lips curled and he wanted to laugh out loud at her indignant expression. “How do I know you’re not keeping a weapon in the bathroom?”
“Because I didn’t carry a weapon into the bathroom. Go ahead. Check the bathroom. I might be hiding a fifty-caliber machine gun in there.”
Wyatt shoved the door wider and glanced in, making a quick show of checking shelves, counters and behind the shower curtain. The only thing that caught his attention was the hot pink shorts lying in a half-open laundry bag on the floor. “All clear.”
“Told you.”
He crossed his arms over his chest, still not moving out of the doorframe. “I knew it. I’m just pushing your buttons, since you’re trespassing in my room. Did you know your eyes flare when you’re angry?”
The woman planted her fists on her gorgeous hips. “Then they should be flaring right now.”
“I don’t know why you’d bother to dress in the bathroom. You could dress out here and let me get my shower.”
“I like having a lock on the door.”
“What does it matter? I’ve already seen everything you have to offer.”
“For the record, I’m not offering you anything. And I don’t dress in front of jerks.”
He nodded. “We’ve established I’m not a gentleman. Really, the repetition is getting boring.”
She stomped a pretty little foot, her effort making little impression in the carpet, but she sure was cute with her long red hair hanging free around her shoulders.
Wyatt had the sudden urge to pull her into his arms and tangle his fingers in all the burnished copper strands. He moved aside, allowing her pass.
She walked past him into the bathroom, her head held high and slammed the door between them.
After barging in on her and holding her captive when she was naked, Wyatt figured he didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell at getting her to go out with him. Not now. Still, he couldn’t help trying. Those long, shapely legs would be nice wrapped around his waist, and he could just imagine how her pale white ass would fit in the palm of his hands as he pumped in and out of her. He glanced down at the tented towel and groaned. “It might help to know the name of the person who is trespassing in my room.” He crossed the room to the duffle bag leaning against the far side of the dresser and removed a pair of jeans.
“Why would I tell you my name?” she asked through the door. “For all I know you’re some pervert who gets off on breaking into a woman’s room.”
“I guess when you put it that way, you have a point.” He grinned as he draped the jeans over his arm. “Only, since it’s my room, you could be the pervert. Though that thought has some appeal.” He pulled a chambray shirt from the bag, shaking out the wrinkles. The door to the bathroom opened as he draped the shirt over the jeans and waited for her to come out.
The redhead emerged from the bathroom, fully clothed in the soft gray suit and pale orange blouse, looking cool, calm and collected and every bit as sexy as she had in her bra and panties or stark naked.
What was it about this woman that had him so hot? Wyatt chalked it up to the months he’d been celibate. After he’d recovered from his injuries, he’d lacked any desire to find a woman and take her to bed. The shrink had claimed PTSD could lead to depression. Lack of desire was only one sign of depression.
Thankfully, the woman had reminded him he was definitely a healthy male capable of a raging hard-on. How to get her into bed would be the challenge.
She padded to the closet, stepped into light gray high-heeled pumps and finally faced him. Her eyes flared briefly when her gaze landed on his chest. Her hands clasped together and she swept her tongue around her bottom lip.
That tongue thing was almost Wyatt’s undoing.
“How much longer until you’re ready?” she asked, breaking into his mental picture of his tongue dueling with hers.
“Don’t wait on me. I’m not getting dressed until I shower the sweat off my body.” He doubted seriously he could walk at that point, with his cock tenting the towel around his middle.
“Not in my shower, you’re not.”
“Guess we’ll be waiting here for a long time then.”
She blew a stream of air out her nose. “Fine. Get your shower. And hurry it up. I’m not leaving you in my room. You might rob me.”
He chuckled, loving the fire in her eyes and the color in her cheeks when she was angry. “I can’t imagine what I’d do with panties and skirt suits.”
She quirked her eyebrows upward. “Perverts do strange and disgusting things.”
Oh, he could imagine all kinds of strange and disgusting things he’d like to do to her body. He crossed to the bathroom door. “I’m ready…” For more than she could imagine. And wouldn’t she be appalled if she could read his mind? “…er, I’ll be ready in less than five minutes.” Closing the door behind him, he switched on the shower and stepped in even before the water warmed, hoping the cool shower would deflate his boner. He’d have a difficult time getting into his jeans as hard as he was.
The bathroom smelled like her, the shampoo some honeysuckle-scented perfection that reminded him of home in the Texas hill country and only made him crazier with need. With quick, efficient movements, he scrubbed the sweat off his skin and shampooed his short hair. When he ran a soapy hand down to his dick, he groaned. Damn he really needed to get laid. No woman should have that much of an effect on him. Rinsing in ice-cold water, he gave up and climbed out, toweling off with more speed than care.
As promised, less than five minutes later, he exited the bathroom, wearing uncomfortably tight jeans and sliding his arms into his chambray shirt. “Ready?”