Spring Break: six months later.
Feeling horribly sorry for herself, Alaska let loose an exaggerated breath and snatched her floral cosmetic bag off the small bedside table. Since everyone in her residence was down south partying during Spring Break, and she had nothing to keep her occupied on this cold Chicago night, she decided to grab a long, hot shower and climb into bed early. At least between the sheets she’d have something to do, like read one of her favorite Sarah Fawkes or Eliza Gayle books, a nice prelude to stroking her needy body and bringing herself to orgasm while she fantasized about her dorm’s hot residence assistant.
Or at least the guy who was masquerading as their floor’s RA.
As she thought about Jesse Callaghan, the tough biker boy who resided two doors down and always smelled like warm leather, hot sex, and motorcycle fumes, she knew there was more to him than met the eye. Everything from the way he took care of her that night when he caught her half naked playing poker—when most guys would have taken advantage of the situation—to how he always watched her, told her he was no ordinary college boy.
Not at all.
After seeing him every day, watching the way he moved and acted, everything in her gut told her Jesse was a guy who’d been dragged up on the streets, his homegrown muscles a product of survival, not some polished, overpriced gym. And he was here masquerading as the floor’s RA, for one reason and one reason only.
Her.
All things considered, including the night when he almost let her real name slip from his lips, she knew he had to be one of her father’s men. Even though it pissed her off that her father had gone behind her back and secretly hired Jesse to watch over her, there was no denying that biker boy was still nice to look at, and even nicer to fantasize about. Since Alaska had very few acquaintances on campus, and life here was as vanilla and uninspiring as her alias, at least her badass bodyguard gave her something other than her assignments to occupy her mind at night. She didn’t bother to call him on it. There was no point, really. Plus, she didn’t want to take a chance that her father would replace him with someone else, someone not quite so...yummy.
She took a moment to imagine what it would be like to peel that worn leather jacket from his broad shoulders, to touch that hard body all over with her fingers, her mouth, her tongue. As a fine shiver of want traveled the length of her spine, she tucked her cosmetic bag under her arm, grabbed a fluffy cotton towel from her closet, and used her shoulder to push through her dorm room door. She pulled it shut behind her, and the old hinges groaned like a wounded animal and cut through the unnatural silence in the hallway before the lock clicked into place.
She stepped into the long corridor and followed the dim path leading to the shower area. The coldness of the tile seeped into her bare feet, and as the blackness in the hall enveloped her, her thoughts once again returned to her father and how distant he was with her. But thinking of him instantly darkened her mood and stirred the sense of loneliness that had long ago taken up residence inside of her.
She hated how little he had to do with her, how easily he dismissed her, sending her to an out of state college and insisting she earn a business degree—no doubt so she could help cook the books when she returned home. Except accounting was the last thing she wanted to do.
Truthfully, she wanted to be a dancer, a performer of sorts, but the man she called daddy—when he happened to be around—cared nothing about her wants or needs. No, the man who didn’t deserve the title of father, the man who had wanted a son, not a daughter, cared only about what was best for him. And it wasn’t like she had a mother to turn to. Marilyn Rossi had skipped town years ago, never to be heard from again. As a child, her disappearance had hurt deeply, but as Alaska grew older, she realized that any mother who would abandon her little girl and leave her with a man who was as cold as the snow covered streets outside her window wasn’t someone Alaska wanted around anyway.
Sure, her father had secretly hired a bodyguard to detail her every move, but she knew it was his way of shielding himself. The man had enemies, so if Jesse was watching out for her, then no one could get to the all-powerful and mighty Franco Rossi through his one and only offspring.
If only she could get out from under his control, go somewhere where she could simply be Alaska Rossi. Although she honestly had no idea who that girl really was, considering she’d never been given the opportunity to really find herself.
Not wanting to dwell on those disheartening thoughts any longer, she padded quietly down the empty hall. She had only taken a few steps when a familiar sensation came over her. Slowing her pace, she angled her head and held her breath, straining her ears for some telltale sound in the darkness. She stole a glance over her shoulder, half expecting to find Jesse lingering in the distance, watching her with those hard, piercing eyes of his. Her body stirred to life, and warmth invaded her nether region as she thought about the intense way he watched her. He reminded her of a predatory animal, patiently watching its prey, waiting for the right moment to pounce and claim its prize. The thought of being claimed by him brought heat to the valley between her thighs and had her thoughts careening in an erotic direction.
She searched the hall, but when her glance came up empty, the vixen inside her wondered where her bodyguard was hiding tonight and what it would actually take to get him to act on the heat between them.
She stepped into the common area. Since modern dorms had little privacy, the area housed a big mirror and dozens of sinks where both guys and girls could attend to their hygiene simultaneously. To the left, behind a high partitioning wall, the girls shower area awaited her. The same set-up could be found to her right, where a ‘boys only’ sign went ignored. While she’d never personally broken that rule, she knew many girls who showered with the guys, two or three at a time, actually. A strange quiver moved through her as she visualized that delicious scenario. Of course, the ‘girls only’ sign also went unheeded. Many guys crossed over into female territory, but unfortunately, none had ever come looking for her. Then again, Jesse had crossed it that night six months ago when she was alone in one of the open stalls, deep under the hot spray, utilizing the shower nozzle in the most creative ways.
His reactions told her he’d wanted her, but unfortunately, he clearly had no intentions of doing anything about it.
She was about to turn to the girls showers when the scent of leather wafted before her nose. She inhaled, pulling the arousing aroma deep into her lungs as she listened to the water turn on in the guy’s section. Her heart went into her throat, because she knew there was only one guy left in residence this week. Only one guy who could be naked, merely a few feet away from her needy body.
Jesse.
Her flesh warmed all over as she visualized him under that spray, hot water dripping down his rock hard body. She spotted his towel draped over one of the sinks, and because severe boredom was messing with her mind, a naughty idea began to formulate. Hell, if she couldn’t have any fun down south with the rest of her dorm mates, then maybe she could get into a little mischief here on campus. It was juvenile and inappropriate, she knew, but hey, every now and then, a girl’s gotta have a little fun, right?
Without thinking her plan through, she grabbed his towel, threw it over her shoulder, and backed out of the room, all the while telling herself this was simply payback. Biker Boy always kept a measure of distance with her, even when she blatantly tried to seduce him. Forcing him to walk back to his room sans towel was simply her way of getting back at him for not treating her as anything more than a school kid under his care.
As she retraced her steps and once again found herself in the hall, the provocative mental image of a naked Jesse making his way from the shower to his room twisted her insides. She took a moment to recall how hot he looked in his jeans, how he filled them out in all the right places. Her body trembled and fueled the need inside her. Okay, she seriously needed to get laid.
It had been far too long since a guy had touched her, really touched her. It would feel so good to know a guy’s hands were on her because he wanted her, not just using her to get closer to her father. But Jesse kept a cool exterior that she doubted even her father’s toughest henchman could crack.
As steam spilled out into the hallway, she blew a wispy strand of hair from her face and took a moment to think about what it would take to break the boy who held his control close. What it would take to feel those callused palms of his on her breasts, between her legs. She could only imagine those hands could rev up a woman with the same skill and speed they revved up that high performance motorcycle of his.
Desire moved through her as she carefully made her way down the hall. But when she caught his scent on the towel, her steps slowed, ribbons of guilt twisting in the pit of her stomach. She passed his closed bedroom and puckered her lips in thought as she ran her hands over the warm terry cloth. While her lascivious brain took that moment to entertain the idea of him exiting the shower buck naked, there was a part of her that couldn’t help but take a moment to consider his predicament.
Jesse probably hated being on campus as much as she did. Sitting in lecture halls and being forced to take accounting classes probably bored the living hell out of him, too. But because he was young and hot, and no doubt the only guy in her father’s arsenal who could pull off the ruse, he found himself forced to babysit a mobster’s daughter. She of all people knew he could never refuse the assignment, because once under the control of Franco Rossi, always under his control. The only way any of her father’s men got out from his strong hold was in a body bag, which meant Jesse was as much of a prisoner as she was.
Guilt eating at her, she turned, intent on putting the towel back. Jesse didn’t deserve this from her, but before she could take a step, she came face-to-face, or rather face-to-chest, with the hottest guy she’d ever set eyes on. Anger flashed in his baby blues as they locked with hers.
At least, she thought it was anger.
“I...uh...” she began around a tongue gone thick. He slicked his hair off his forehead, accentuating the scars on his face. Her eyes moved over the age-old wounds that added to his ruggedness and good looks.
Unable to hold his gaze any longer, her eyes dropped. Coherent thought fled when she glimpsed his gorgeous, naked body, specifically, the impressive cock between his legs, which, the longer she looked, began to harden. As she registered every delicious inch of him, her gaze followed the tattoo scrolls on his arms. A strange wheezing sound escaped her throat as she took a moment to admire the swirls, trying to figure out what they meant. Flustered, she struggled for words. But how could she form a sentence when all she could think about was touching the naked man before her?
Oh Gawd...
Okay, so she’d set out to take his towel as payback, a childish act of rebellion, yet as she salivated over his hard, wet body—one, she fully understood, he wasn’t about to ever let her touch—she couldn’t help but think she was the one actually being punished.
* * *
Sweet Jesus.
Alaska was going to be the fucking death of him yet.
Jesse took a distancing step back and bit down on his jaw hard enough to break bone. Desperate for something constructive to do with his hands before they got him into trouble, he ran his fingers through his wet hair and worked to marshal his cock. But how was he supposed to tame his dick when Alaska was tracking his body with those dark, sexy bedroom eyes of hers? As they stood there staring at each other like they were in the middle of some goddamn Mexican standoff, he shifted restlessly and wondered who was going to make the first move, and more importantly, what that move might be.
When her glance met his again, she blinked thick lashes over come-hither eyes, ones that not only told him she needed so much, but exactly who she needed it from. His glance left her face, and he couldn’t help but notice the telltale hardening of her nipples beneath the oversize night shirt she wore. He stifled a groan of want as he visualized himself ripping that thin piece of material from her body to expose the ripe, innocent girl beneath, one who’d been beckoning his touch in the most mind-fucking ways. He swallowed, and despite his best interest, let his glance dip lower. Fuck... He tugged on his hair harder as his brain conjured the path his hands wanted take. As his gaze visually caressed her curves, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to watch the stifled girl before him blossom beneath his touch.
She was speaking, but damned if he could decipher her words, not when the blood in his body was pooling in his groin region. His gaze moved back to her face, and he watched her mouth, trying to figure out what she was saying, but when she nibbled her bottom lip, his cock grew another inch. Christ, how could such an innocent gesture be so sexy?
“...a towel?” she said.
“What?” he murmured, working to get himself under control before he did something he could only regret later, like pin her against that wall and give her what she so obviously wanted...what they’ve both wanted for a long time now.
“I...uh... I didn’t realize anyone was in the shower. I thought I was alone here and—”
“Janey.”
“Yeah?” she said, breathlessly.
He cleared his throat and nodded toward her outstretched arm. “Toss it,” he ordered, knowing better than to take a step closer to grab it himself. Fuck, if she was within arm’s reach, there was no way he could be held accountable for what he did next.
She threw it his way. He snatched it out of the air before it hit the floor. He wrapped it around his waist and tucked in the corner but not before he was gifted with a whiff of her scent. Stifling the groan rising from the depths of his throat, he bit down on the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. Too bad the pain did little to get his erection under control. Shit, if he didn’t get it together soon, they’d both be able to go camping under the tent he was pitching.
He breathed deep in an effort to get his head on straight, but her sweet citrus scent was enough to make a grown man weep.
Alaska.
What was he going to do with the sexy girl who was so goddamn bored out of her mind that she swiped his towel for an inch, or rather eight and a half inches, of excitement?
Nothing...that’s what, his last working brain cell warned.
Even though he’d spent the last six months aching to taste the girl who he’d been secretly watching over, daydreaming about ramming his cock into her so hard and fast that she’d forget what the word boredom ever meant, he knew she was off limits. He was here to protect her, and if he stepped over the line, he was as good as dead.
But Jesus, he hated seeing her so miserable, so lonely and bored that she had nothing better to do than jack his towel. If only he could give her a week of fun, break her out of this campus prison and give her the adventure she was craving. From watching her closely and tracking her every moment, he knew exactly what kind of journey this sweet yet sexy girl wanted. And damned if he didn’t want to be the guy to give it to her.
Except he knew better than to blow his cover—even though he was close to blowing something—and breaking free went against all the rules.
When the hell had he become such a rule follower anyway?