Favorite Places (A TroubleMaker Novel, #2)

Favorite
Places

This is a work of
fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead,
is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No
part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without
the written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations
used in reviews.

Edited by: Autumn Conley

The trolley
wheels let out a loud screech. Everything jolted forward. Jessina’s body
included. She nearly fell into the guy, the one her arm had been brushing
against for the past three minutes, the attractive guy with dark hair, dark
eyes, and perfect lips.

Oh yeah. He had
the kind of mouth that was created to be touched. And by the arrogant way he
carried himself, Jessina could only imagine that those lips had been touched a
lot. No doubt, they’d done a lot of touching of their own too.

Her thighs clenched,
imagining the one place she’d like them to touch.

Shit!
Am I really gonna fantasize about some guy I literally bumped into on a
five-minute trolley ride? God, Shelby was right. I need to get laid. How long
has it been anyway?
The fact she had to think about it confirmed her dry
spell had gone on for far too long, just like her cousin had said.

A strong whiff
of something arousing awakened her from her thoughts. Her nostrils flared for
more. Not only did he look pricey, but hot damn the man smelled expensive too.

When the trolley
hit the brakes again, Jessina hit something hard—his chest. She bounced off it,
but before she fell back on her ass, a strong hand reached out and grabbed her.
It pulled her forward, right into a mound of muscles concealed by a crisp,
white dress shirt.

Glancing up from
the black tie that seemed to be holding in an abundance amount of confidence,
she was greeted by intense blue eyes. Smiling from ear to ear, his mouth was in
full bloom, but the pleasant little gesture hadn’t reached his eyes.

He inspected her,
the examination taking a slow, leisurely sweep over her breasts. It stopped at
her hands, where she stood double-fisted. A wallet clenched in one hand and
Aunt Lulu—well, the urn containing Aunt Lulu’s ashes—in the other. She didn’t
have the heart to stuff her favorite aunt in her suitcase, so she’d held the
small urn during the whole flight back from New York City.

“You okay?” asked
Mr. Hot Lips. His voice aristocratic and deep.

The husky tone scratched
its way between Jessina’s legs, the very place she wanted him to put that sexy
mouth of his. But Jessina was no fool. She recognized trouble when she saw it.

“Yeah, thanks.” She
moved back from the eye-full of deliciousness.

And he let her
go.

Her suitcase had
fallen. To preoccupy herself, she picked it up and shoved her wallet in the
front compartment. She stood just as the trolley wheels jumped again. This time,
Jessina and Aunt Lulu found themselves in full contact with Mr. Hot Lips. One strong
hand secured itself to her hip, while the other pressed against the small of her
back. Aunt Lulu, an in-your-face kind of gal, would have appreciated the intimate
position. But it rendered Jessina uncomfortable. Her comfort zone required at
least a three-foot radius, no matter how sexy the other person’s mouth was.

The trolley
jostled back and forth. The guy’s fingers sank into her hip, as his palm
pressed her closer to his chest. His tantalizing aroma, hard body, those profound
blue eyes, and that firm touch had trumped the anxiety that typically overcame
her when she found herself in such close proximity with another human being.  

Jessina made eye
contact. Mistake. Those piercing blue eyes were enough to make any girl lightheaded
and giddy all in the same breath. But Jessina reminded herself she wasn’t just
any girl. No, Mr. Hot Lips won’t be making this girl swoon.

As if detecting her
challenge, the guy’s eyebrow lifted. A portion of his crooked smile slipped
into his blue eyes, and they brightened, revealing his ultimate selling point. “Bumpy
ride, huh?” he said with a playful tilt of the head.

Damn, if that deep, raspy voice didn’t just pinch her real
hard between the legs. She squeezed her thighs. “Very bumpy,” she agreed, not
about to fall for his bring-a-girl-to-her-knees grin with that sexy smile that had
finally reached those compelling eyes. Her gaze dropped down to his tie. “Um…” Unsure
what to do, she placed her free hand on his chest and tapped his hard pectoral
muscle—twice. “Sorry,” she mumbled, willing her brain to work. She curled Aunt
Lulu into the alcove of her arm. And with some sort of freaky reluctance, she pushed
herself away from the guy.

“Thanks again.”

“Sure, anytime,” he
smiled as his fingers broke from her hip.

Jessina diverted her
eyes from his and shifted to the left. She reached for the pole, the one meant
to steady travelers who didn’t have a seat on the bus. Not the six-two,
eyeful-of-deliciousness Jessina had used to maintain her stability during the
bumpy ride.  

The final screech of the tires announced the trolley had come
to a stop, and everyone dived for their bags. Grateful for the distraction from
Mr. Hot Lips, Jessina grabbed her suitcase and pushed her way to the exit. The
glass door opened in accordion-like fashion, and her crowd-splitting
maneuverability skills allowed her to exit the trolley third. She headed north,
to the parking lot, praying that her car would start when she got to it. The
twelve-year-old Corolla had barely gotten her to the McCarron International Airport
earlier in the week. The three-hour ride to Las Vegas from Caliente sure had
taken a toll on the old girl.

“Hey! Stop! That’s my
bag!” The awesome-smelling, arm-touching guy, shouted at whoever had the
audacity to put their grubby little hands on his property.

Jessina glanced
around the lot. Who would dare try to take this robust nobleman’s luggage, she wondered
with a snicker. But quickly sobered for she was the only person standing in
that part of the lot. Not only that, but he was closing in on her fast. His handsome
face reddened with obvious anger.

“You took my suitcase!”
he shouted, as though he was still yards away but now only a few feet from her.
Close enough that his damn scent was teasing her nostrils all over again. He’d
rolled up his sleeves, revealing tan, strong forearms lightly sprinkled with
the perfect amount of dark hair.
Jeez. Even this guy’s arms are sexy.
The
sunlight glinted off the huge platinum watch wrapped around his wrist. He’d
loosened his tie, and his two-piece suit was broken-down. The jacket removed
and clenched in his fist.

He crossed the
threshold of her comfort zone yet again. And without the distraction of the crammed
trolley and all the people bumping into her, Jessina’s usual panic struck her
like a smack in the face. She succumbed to it and took two quick steps back, being
sure to stay in front of her suitcase. “I most certainly did not!”

“Yes you did!” He
tried to move around her, but she followed the full circle he’d made to protect
the luggage in question.
Her
luggage! He stopped, propped his
jacket-holding fist up on his hip. His eyes hardened into sapphires as he
glared at her accusingly.   

Jessina glanced
over her shoulder relieved to see that it was, in fact, her suitcase sitting
there, or Aunt Lulu’s, to be more exact. Shelby had insisted she use it instead
of Jessina’s old torn one that she’d brought with her for the trip, a suitcase
that looked as if it had traveled the entire globe.

So, if she had
her own bag, what was his problem? What made him think that she had his?
She
flipped her head around. “Look buddy, this is my suitcase and—”

He shook his
head and actually growled, a guttural, animalistic kind of noise that turned
Jessina on more than off. “It is not!”

“Yes it is!”

“Move out of my
way and let me check for myself.” He took a step toward her.

“Hey! Back the
hell off!” She shot out a hand to stop him and was glad when he obeyed. She couldn’t
bear grazing that hunky chest again. “This…” She circled her hand in front of
her body. “This here…” She pointed down to some imaginary barrier. “I don’t
know who the hell you think you are, but this here is
my
space, and I
don’t want you in it or even near it. You got that?”

His eyebrows
dipped, and his forehead creased. Clearly, he hadn’t expected her refusal or
her comfort zone prohibition. The arrogant man probably wasn’t used to people
denying him what he wanted. He forked five long digits through his dark hair
and let out a low, harsh breath. “Prove it. Open it.”

“Excuse me?” There
was no way Jessina was going to open her bag at the demands of a total stranger.
Shelby had teased her all week about not getting laid, and just before Jessina
had left New York, her cousin had whispered in her ear, “I left you a little
present in your bag.” Jessina could only imagine what her cousin had put in there.
It could be a personal aid of some sort. Something that required batteries.
Opening that luggage in front of a stranger in that parking lot just wasn’t
going to happen. “If you just relax a second and stop barking orders, maybe we
can figure this out.”

His shoulders
dropped, and his tense stature had settled a bit. But his eyes remained grave,
as he arched an eyebrow at her.

“Now, why do you
believe I have
your
suitcase?”

“It was right
next to me on the trolley, and when you left, I watched you take it. That’s
why,” he snarled through thin, tight lips that were still tempting beyond
belief. Even growling like some kind of untamed animal—or maybe
because
he was doing so—the guy was hot.

She shook her
head as his words registered. “I can assure you that I am no thief and this is not
your suitcase!”

“I’m not
suggesting you stole it, merely that you grabbed it by accident,” he replied
with cynicism dripping from his voice.  

“What kind of suitcase
is it?”

“Uh…” He pointed
to her suitcase. “That kind.”

“No.”
Smart-ass.
She lifted her chin, “I mean, what brand?”

His hand shot
out in the air. “What the hell does that matter?”

“If they’re not
the same brand, then we can be done with this nonsense,” she reasoned, although
he seemed like just the type to own a Louis Vuitton. Like Aunt Lulu, he appeared
to have very expensive taste.

“Just show me
the damn thing.” He dropped his hand.

“The brand?” she
insisted.

“How the hell am
I supposed to know? I didn’t purchase it.” His delicious mouth twisted into a
smirk. “I’ve got people—you know, to do things like that for me.”

“Of course you
do.”

“That’s it! As
fun as all this is, I’m through playing with you.” He leaned to the left to try
to reach around her.

As Jessina went
to push him away, the urn slipped out of her hand and hit the ground with a
loud crash. Ashes spilled out from the broken vase onto the asphalt. Just as Jessina
dropped to her knees, a shiny black shoe slipped in front of her. The rude, arrogant
man had stepped right on Aunt Lulu! Furious, she jumped up. He must have been
bending down at that precise moment, because her shoulder smacked him square in
the mouth, and she felt something pierce her shirt.

It could have
been a tooth.

“Shit!” He
cursed a few choice words, straightened to his full height, and covered his mouth
with his hand.

“Oh my God. I’m
so sorry!” She shot up and reached for him. When her hand touched his, he
stilled. It was different from earlier, when he’d touched her on the trolley. When
she’d been protected by clothing. This time, it was full-blown flesh-on-flesh
contact, and the overwhelming sensations that shot through her set her entire
body on fire. She wondered if he felt the inferno too. The blue in his eyes
sharpened, and he seemed to be holding his breath. His sexy mouth was partially
ajar, like an invitation beckoning her tongue to come on in. She licked her
bottom lip, fearful that drool might be dripping from it.