Hotter Than Ever

“Wow,” she blurted out. “This place is incredible.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty sweet.” Dylan dropped her suitcases and his small black duffel on the floor, then swept an arm out and gave her a quick verbal tour. “Living room, dining room. Kitchen’s over there, and the bedrooms are down that hall.”

Claire’s gaze took everything in—the masculine furnishings in the living room and heavy-duty entertainment system, the sleek electric fireplace, the French doors leading out to a sprawling stone terrace. She shifted her gaze and studied the low wall that separated the living and dining area from a big, modern kitchen with gleaming stainless-steel appliances and a black granite counter.

And just like Dylan’s old place, this one was also neat as a pin, which only supported her belief that military men were the cleanest on the planet.

She opened her mouth to rave about the apartment a bit more, but the sound of footsteps interrupted. Claire turned her head in time to see Dylan’s roommate step out of the corridor.

A pair of unbelievably sexy dimples appeared in his cheeks as he swept his dark eyes over the new arrivals. “Fastest wedding ever, huh?”

Claire was at a loss for words over his sheer hotness, and far too fascinated by the man walking toward them. She’d only caught shadowy glimpses of him back in September, and now she was kind of grateful for that, because if she’d known what this man looked like? He would have haunted her fantasies.

He was as handsome as Dylan, but in a darker, more sensual way. He had olive skin and short dark hair, a pair of intense chocolate-brown eyes, and a bare chest that made her mouth water. Yep, bare. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, so her gaze got to experience every sculpted muscle and the tight ridges of his six-pack. Not to mention the tantalizing glimpses of his hip bones, which were revealed by black sweatpants that rode low and told her he was definitely going commando.

The lust that slammed into her was insane. Absolutely insane. Her ni**les went rock-hard and her thighs clenched as X-rated images flashed through her mind. She wanted to put her mouth all over this man. She wanted to lick his collarbone and his pecs and his abdomen, and then she wanted to sink to her knees, pull out his c**k and lick that too.

As their eyes locked, something hot and primal rippled through her. She got the feeling he knew exactly what she’d been envisioning, and the notion made her blush and break the eye contact.

“Seriously, what happened?” Dylan’s roommate asked. “Your text told me nothing.”

Dylan raked a hand through his blond hair, looking frustrated. “Yeah, I didn’t want to get into it via text. This is Claire McKinley, by the way. Claire, my roommate, Aidan Rhodes.”

Aidan’s dark eyes flickered with intrigue. “The bride. Interesting. But no groom.”

Claire met his gaze again. “The groom decided he didn’t want to marry me so he left without telling me.”

He looked startled. “What do you mean, without telling you?”

“Oh, don’t worry, he recruited his brother to dump me. I suppose that’s better than nothing.” The bitterness in her tone belied the smile she’d attempted.

Those magnetic eyes softened with sympathy. “I’m sorry. That must have been tough for you.” He turned to Dylan. “You didn’t need to stay with your mother?”

“I wanted to get Claire outta there. I’ll call my mom in a bit.”

Claire’s heart skipped a beat at the knowledge that Dylan had put her first, but her response was so infuriating it resulted in making her crabby again. “I’m sure you have more questions,” she told Aidan, “but can one of you direct me to the washroom first? And maybe a room where I can get changed?”

The latter request directed both men’s eyes to the dress clinging to her body like plastic wrap. When those hot male gazes rested on her chest, Claire experienced another baffling moment of were-they-or-weren’t-they. Gay, that was. Because from the hungry way they were staring at her br**sts, she would bet on were not.

“You can stay in my room,” Dylan finally said.

“I can’t take your room,” she protested. “Where will you sleep?”

She regretted the question the second it exited her mouth. Her cheeks scorched again, burning hotter when she spotted the smirk on Aidan’s mouth.

“I’ll sleep in the office.” Dylan picked up her bags. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”

She took a step after him, then paused awkwardly and looked at Aidan. “It’s really nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.” He still wore that secretive little smirk, but after a beat it faded into a frown. “And I really am sorry about your wedding.”

“Thanks,” she murmured before trailing after Dylan.

He led her into a bedroom with dark-blue walls, a neatly made double bed, and modern, black-painted furniture. Other than a stack of books and magazines on the bedside table and the bulletin board on the closet door, the room lacked any personal touches. It smelled like Dylan, though, that woodsy, masculine scent that had filled her nostrils during the entire helicopter ride.

“Do you mind giving me some time alone?” she asked after he deposited her suitcase and carry-on near the foot of the bed. “I want to shower and call my parents, and maybe lie down for a little while.”

“No problem.” He headed for the doorway, then lingered there. “Are you hungry? Do you want me to whip up something for you to eat?”