Shake It Up (Man of the Month 8)

And if the brick had been about her, then she was putting her friends in danger. The wreck with Jenna could have been so much worse. Hell, just having a crazy stalker put her friends in danger, because who knew when he might go off the rails? He might even grab Mina on the way up, forcing her to use the key that was waiting for her at the front desk to grant access to the floor.

The thought set Taylor's heart to pounding.

No.

Maybe Reggie had gone overboard into the sea of absurd crushes, but surely he hadn't completely snapped.

Had he?

It might not be Reggie...

That thought, however, wasn't even worth considering. Because if she did consider it, it would stick in her head like glue and fear would run like ice water through her veins.

No, it was Reggie. Landon would scare him shitless, the department would expel him--surely the University had some relevant code of conduct--and he'd slink away back home. Ohio, she thought. Wasn't that where he said his parents lived?

And in the meantime, she was safe in this little Winston Hotel cave, and she was going to damn well enjoy it. Stretching, she grabbed up the phone, punched the button for room service, then ordered a quesadilla, chips and salsa, and a pitcher of margaritas. Screw wine. Tonight was worthy of the hard stuff.

While she waited, she stripped out of the jeans and Tee she'd been wearing all day, then snuggled into the hotel robe. It was soft and fluffy and she breathed deep, enjoying the freshly washed scent with a hint of lavender. She brushed her hair, tried out the moisturizer that was on the bathroom counter, then smelled the shampoo and conditioner. Quality stuff.

Right as she was leaving, there was a sharp tap at the door, and she jumped before remembering that it had to be room service, a conclusion that was confirmed when the deep voice announced, "Room service!" only seconds later. She checked the peephole, saw the guy with the tray, and opened the door.

"Good evening, Ms. D'Angelo," he said. "Where would you like this?"

She turned to point as she said, "On the desk would be great. My friend and I are going to have a movie night." Then she turned back to close the door and had to swallow a scream.

Landon.

Relief flooded through her, and without thinking, she reached out and shoved him back, her palm flat against his chest. "Jerk! You scared me to death."

His hand closed over hers, holding her palm in place. She could feel his body heat through the APD T-shirt he wore, not to mention the tightness of those superior muscles. She felt more than that, too. A sexual charge, a seductive shimmer, a wild awareness. She didn't know what to call it. All she knew was that it had engulfed her, stealing her breath and making her hope beyond all reason that he'd keep holding her hand against his chest forever.

Oh. My. God.

Roughly, she yanked her hand free, breaking the spell, though a few isolated sizzles remained. Her breasts felt tight. And she was suddenly very aware of her inner thighs and parts in-between. Not only that, but she was aware that she was naked under the robe.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, and she thought she might drown in those dark chocolate eyes. Not a bad way to go, really...

Then he took another step toward her, and all the tiny hairs on her body started to vibrate in anticipation of another touch. But he was only stepping asid

e to let the room service guy pass, his polite, "Have a good evening," lingering in the air after the door closed behind him.

"Land--" she began, but he cut her off with a sharp, "What the hell do you think you were doing?"

Her eyes went wide and she took a step back. "Me? What?"

"You're here for your protection, Taylor. But you left the door wide open. You didn't even know I'd stepped in." Those usually kind eyes were hard now, his kissable mouth pulled into a thin, angry line, and she reacted in kind, straightening her spine as she prepared to do battle.

But then she took a closer look. Not angry, she realized. Afraid.

The tension left her body with an almost audible whoosh. "Oh, God. I--I'm sorry."

Immediately, he relaxed as well, then scrubbed his hand over his close-shaved head. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. But, dammit, I want to trust that you'll be safe even when I'm not there to watch over you."

She turned away, stepping further into the room to hide the smile that danced immediately to her lips. "I guess that means you took the job, despite the low pay and terrible hours."

He chuckled, and when she turned back again, he was right there, having followed her all the way in with amazingly quiet footsteps for such a big man. Taylor was five-eight, pretty tall for a woman, but she still had to look up to see his eyes. Though, honestly, she probably shouldn't. He had the sexiest eyes she'd ever seen. Bedroom eyes.

And here they were in a bedroom. How interesting was that?