All That He Loves (Volume 2 The Billionaires Seduction) (46 page)

Speak of the Devil, and she shall appear.

I heard the key fumble and scrape noisily across the lock. It was the sound I called ‘the Drunk Doorbell’ – a sure sign that Shanna was blasted.

It was usually accompanied by ‘the Drunk Disclaimer.’

“Shhhh,” she giggled out in the hallway. “We gotta be quiet cuz I got a roommate…”

Ah, there it was.

“I’m awake,” I called out. “You don’t have to be quiet.”

The lock clicked and the door crashed open, and Shanna stumbled into the room. “Oh, thas’ good…”

I turned around from my desk to look at her. She was cute – not gorgeous, but she had a great smile and knew how to work a push-up bra. And she was
very
outgoing. I’d had a lot of practice in fending off guys – most of them assholes, some of them charming – but I never, ever flirted with anybody. Shanna didn’t just flirt, she
manhandled.

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

“No.”

“It’s okay, right?” she asked, her eyes defocused, her body weaving slightly. “I haven’t had a Shanna Night in… awhile… right?”

That’s what we called the ‘one night a week’ arrangements: Shanna Nights.

“No,” I sighed.

“Good,” she giggled, then whispered in a loud voice that the guy would have heard if he were standing at the opposite end of a football field: “Cuz he’s
really HOT.
”

She looked over her shoulder and giggled at somebody standing outside in the hallway, just beyond my field of vision.

“Come on in an’ meet my roommate!”

Great. I was wearing a t-shirt and sweats, no bra, no makeup. Just how I wanted to look when I met some drunk douchebag.

Actually, I guess it didn’t
matter
what I looked like when I met a drunk douchebag, since I didn’t give a damn about what he thought.

I checked my cell phone. 11PM.

Huh – early night for her.

“I can go in the study lounge. How about an hour?” I asked.

Judging by how drunk she was, I figured she’d pass out in half that time – but I might as well err on the side of caution.

“I usually make it last longer… but that should be enough,” a deep, male voice suddenly spoke up.

The voice was the first thing that got me: sexy. Masculine. Golden brown with a tinge of smokiness around the edges.

Something inside my stomach fluttered, which was not a reaction I normally had to men’s voices.

Actually, it was not a reaction I
ever
had to men’s voices.

I looked up and saw the hottest guy I’ve ever seen in my life.

He was tall, about six feet. He had black hair, gorgeous and rumpled and falling just short of his eyebrows. He had a strong jaw, a slight dimple in his chin, and cheekbones to die for. Flawless olive skin and a day or two’s worth of unshaven scruffiness. He had a grey t-shirt with ‘Led Zeppelin’ on the front in faded black letters, like it had been washed a thousand times and given up the fight to stay legible. The shirt was tight over his broad chest, his powerful shoulders, and his bulging biceps. He looked like the kind of guy who had built up muscles by good genes and manual labor rather than sweating it out in a gym.

He had tattoos as well, which I don’t normally like – but they added to the bad boy image in a way that was irresistible. He wore a leather band around one wrist and a couple of rings on his fingers – rings that looked like he’d bought them from a street vendor who made her own stuff. One was pounded silver, with hammer marks all over the metal. Another was a really cool twining pattern of copper strands. Neither was on his left ring finger.

The rings made me look at his hands… and his hands made me think of a master artist carving them from a block of rare wood. They were large and masculine, and looked very… capable. Of anything and everything. Especially naughty things.

His tattered jeans were baggy enough below the knees to be cool, and tight enough over his thighs to make my mouth water. He had on clunky black work boots, scuffed and worn on the toes. A metal wallet chain hung from his battered leather belt and disappeared into his pocket.

The clothes didn’t really do it for me, other than the fact that they showed off his beautiful body to perfection. The rest of him
really
did it for me… especially his eyes. They were the single most arresting thing about him. Beautiful green, a few shades lighter than emeralds. I had never seen anybody with eyes that gorgeous. I wondered if he had contacts, then decided
Probably not.
The rest of him suggested ‘not much money,’ so I didn’t see him spending hundreds of dollars on something like colored contacts.

His eyelids stayed partly shut all the time, giving him a perpetual kind of sleepy, sexy, seductive look. Coupled with his dark, brooding eyebrows, he seemed to be thinking,
Come over here and kiss me –
and the slightly upturned corner of his full, sensual lips made him look amused that I hadn’t given in yet.

As we stared at each other, I felt something pass between us – like an invisible current that flowed through the air. A spark that jumped from him to me and back again. Unseen, unspoken, but definitely real. A connection.

I also felt something else I’d never experienced before with a stranger.

Desire.

Heat building in my cheeks – and elsewhere.

There were probably only about four seconds of silence… but it felt like an eternity as we stared at each other.

I
felt it. I’m pretty damn sure he felt it, too.

And then he took it a step further.

“Derek Kane,” he said, stepping forward and offering me that large, masculine hand.

“Kaitlyn Reynolds,” I said, and put my hand in his. His skin was warm, his fingers strong and slightly calloused.

Whatever electricity had been buzzing in the air between us almost exploded when we touched.

He was gentle as he held my hand – but firm. Firm and powerful and strong.

I briefly imagined what his arms around me might feel like, and then guiltily pushed that out of my mind as quickly as I could.

He held onto my hand for a couple of seconds longer than he should have. Only when it was obvious that he was hanging on too long did he finally let go.

There was
definitely
some serious chemistry going on between us.

Shanna felt it, because she looked back and forth between us like a spectator at Wimbledon.

“Uhhhh, Kaitlyn…?” she whined with a worried look on her face.

“Sorry,” I said, snapping out of my daze and turning around to get my literature book. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

Derek leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. His very powerful, very muscular arms. “No… we shouldn’t run you off.”

Shanna looked over at him, incredulous. “That wasn’t what you were saying before we walked in here.”

“Oh?” I asked, amused. “What were you saying before you walked in here, exactly?”

Shanna giggled. “That if you didn’t leave, we’d have to fuck right here in front of you.”

POW.

The words went right to my gut – a one/two punch.

One, I immediately thought,
Player.
A slight wave of disappointment and disgust rose up inside me.

Two, I imagined seeing him naked, standing just a few feet away from my bed… and my disgust quickly disappeared, to be replaced by more…
pleasant
feelings.

Kevin’s plaintive voice suddenly drifted out of my subconscious:

You’re not attracted to anybody, are you?

I winced.

Now I
really
had to get out of the room.

“Not necessary,” I said, in as deadpan a voice as I could muster. “I’ll leave.”

Interestingly enough, Derek didn’t smirk or chortle out a ‘bro laugh’ or any other reaction I would have expected. Instead, he threw Shanna an icy look before returning his gaze to me. “I was just joking around. We’re not going to run you out of your room.”

Shanna’s mouth dropped open like a gaffed fish.

I sat there, unsure what to do.

I knew I shouldn’t stay; I would totally be cock-blocking Shanna.

Plus, I was already having trouble fighting off bad, bad thoughts. Thoughts that would have given my long-distance boyfriend a heart attack.

But something inside me
really
wanted to stay around this sexy, mysterious stranger, if just for a few minutes longer.

However, I could already feel annoyance radiating from Shanna.

So could Derek.

He handled it like a pro.

“We can’t make her leave,” he said, turning to Shanna. “It’s, like, close to finals, isn’t it? What if she fails her exams because of us? You don’t want that on your conscience.”

He said it with the perfect mix of mocking
(Awwww, poor little nerdling)
and concern
(We really can’t do that to her. Not cool)
.

“She’s not gonna fail her exams,” Shanna snapped.

Derek shrugged, not a care in the world. “We’ll have plenty of time. Don’t piss off your roommate.”

When he said ‘We’ll have plenty of time,’ Shanna both brightened and relaxed the slightest bit.

But she still muttered, “She’s not gonna fail her exams” petulantly under her breath.

He’d said something revealing:
It’s, like, close to finals, right?
Which meant he either wasn’t a student, or he was a frat boy awakening from a twelve-week bender.

And he didn’t look like a frat boy.

“You don’t go here?” I asked him.

“Nope.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m in a band.”

Of course you are.

Athens was famous for having been the birthplace of the B-52’s (who later fled to New York) and of R.E.M. (who stayed). Every half-assed musician who couldn’t afford a bus ticket to Los Angeles or NYC wanted to make their name completing the hat trick.

Despite his physical gorgeousness, my attraction started to wane. “Oh. That’s nice.”

Derek grinned wryly, and my heart skipped a beat.

Damn
he had a sexy smile.

“I know, I know. Throw a stick in Athens, you’ll hit three musicians, right? Ten if it’s a Saturday night.”

Okay… so at least he’s a self-aware, self-deprecating, HUMBLE half-assed musician.

I tried to play it off. “I’m not really a music person, that’s all.”

“And what kind of a person are you, then?”

“UNH,” Shanna groaned. “Why are you asking about
HER?”

“I thought I’d get to know your friend. Aren’t you guys good friends?”

Shanna bounded over to me and threw her arms around my neck. “The
best,
” she giggled, then whispered
way
too loudly, “Which is why you’re gonna
leave,
right?
Shanna
night,
remember?”

I turned my head and looked at her only two inches away from my face. She smelled like a brewery – and a cheap one, at that. “You are
so
drunk.”

“Shitfaced.” The bad stage whisper started up again: “Pleeeaasssse? He’s soooo
hot!”

He
was,
but it was dumb to announce it like that. The guy’s ego was probably already massive; now it had to be Godzilla-sized.

I looked over at Derek. I thought he would have been grinning himself silly seeing Shanna throw herself at him – but no.

He was staring at me. Not in a creepy way, but in a curious
What are you going to do?
kind of way.

I pictured him lying on Shanna’s bed, naked, with only a tiny bit of lamplight falling across his muscular, naked body…

I shivered.

Then I got a hold of myself.

I patted Shanna’s arm. “I’ll go.”

“Yaaaay!” Shanna squee-ed, releasing her beer-soaked hold on my neck.

“No,” Derek insisted, in a voice that would brook no dissent. “We’re not interrupting your studying. Studying’s important.”

Now it was embarrassingly obvious.

Derek wasn’t interested in sleeping with Shanna anymore.

He was interested in
me.

Which alternately thrilled me and
terrified
me.

Maybe it terrified me
because
it thrilled me.

But I played it as cool as I could, and gave him a
You are SO full of shit
smirk. “Studying’s important?
Really.
”

He matched me grin for grin. “It obviously is to you.”

Shanna was getting pissed that Derek was ignoring her. So she played her trump card.

“Kaitlyn has a boyfriend,” she announced loudly.

As soon as she said it, my stomach twisted with guilt – and anger.

“No I don’t. We broke up three days ago, remember?” I snapped.

“You always break up and get back together,” she said petulantly, then turned to Derek. “They’re high school sweethearts. They’ll be back together by tomorrow night, just watch.”

In addition to my anger and guilt, I also felt a tiny bit of fear – that Derek would lose interest in me.

I reprimanded myself. I was
bad
to feel that way. Shanna was right, I’d probably be back with Kevin in another couple of days.

And if I kept talking to Derek, it would just confirm all of Kevin’s worst accusations.

It’s better if he loses interest now,
I told myself dejectedly.

But he didn’t.

He just looked at me with no change in expression whatsoever, like I’d told him I had a swing set when I was kid, or that I liked eating celery. “Cool. He go here?”

My stomach churned a little more. “Uh… no. He’s at Syracuse.”

“Upstate New York?”

“Yeah.”

Derek nodded briefly. “I hear it’s pretty up there. So, what’s this test you’re studying for?”

And just like that, the topic of my (ex)boyfriend was past, a billboard receding in the car mirror on the conversation highway.

Judging by her expression, Shanna knew it was over. Her big play had failed. She looked like a kid who’d just found out there was no Santa Claus – and
I
was the Grinch who stole Christmas. She alternated sad puppy-dog looks at him and teeth-clenching glares at me.