Naked Pursuit

Handcuffs. A sexy stranger.

What did she do last night?

Med student Stella Holbrook just had the best night of her life meeting a hot, hunky firefighter, making out with him at the roller rink and then engaging in a whole lot of deliciously wicked behavior in a swank hotel room. Only, when she wakes up the next morning, she can’t remember a thing...

Owen Perkins has no idea how he ended up naked in a bathtub with Stella. All he knows is that while their minds are blank, their bodies definitely remember what happened. All they have to go on are cryptic notes they left for themselves. Piece by piece, they’ll uncover the truth about last night...one exquisitely sexy moment at a time!

“You’re looking at me like you want to touch me...”

Hell, Stella wanted to do a lot more than touch. In her mind, the image flashed of her fingers on the button of Owen’s jeans and working down the fly. A memory? No, more like wishful thinking. Because that was what she would have done last night. And after she’d slid the zipper down she would have shoved the soft material down his hips just far enough to free him. She’d lick his collarbone. Nip his skin with her teeth. Trail her tongue down his body until she reached his—

“Don’t do that,” he gritted out. “I’m doing everything I can to not lift you onto my shoulder, carry you into that bedroom and make up for what I don’t remember.”

“Owen, I—”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t say my name. You say it like a moan. Don’t look at me like you want my hands all over your body.” He gripped her shoulders and his gaze locked with hers. Hunger blazed in those hazel depths. Hunger for her.

“I want you. But not like this...”

Dear Reader,

I’ve done my fair share of odd things in the name of volunteering, from being dunked in ice-cold water to participating in a rum study. But never once have I woken up in handcuffs (yet)! Of course, a lot worse happens to Stella and Owen, but really, they only have themselves to blame.

I had a blast writing this story about this soon-to-be doctor and a smoke jumper, and it’s not because I had to look at a lot of pictures on the internet of sexy firemen doing their job. Although I’m truly humbled by the amazing work all first responders and our medical professionals take on every day at all hours. I loved writing the sizzling connection and unexpected attraction between Stella and Owen. They weren’t prepared for love, but had to adapt—stat!

It was also fun to catch up with Larissa and her long-term crush, Dr. Mitch Durant, as well as the other couple they send on a winding happily-ever-after path—Hayden Taylor and Anthony Garcia. If you’d like to read Hayden and Tony’s story, check out Naked Thrill.

I can be found hanging around my website, jillmonroe.com—handcuffs optional!

Best,

Jill

JILL MONROE makes her home in Oklahoma with her family. When not writing, she spends way too much time on the internet completing “research” or updating her blog. Even when writing, she’s thinking of ways to avoid cooking.

As always, this book is dedicated to my family.

Thanks go to Gena Showalter, Candace Havens, Allison Kent, HelenKay Dimon, Stephanie Feagan, Wendy Duren and never last (except in this list) Kassia Krozser.

Special thanks to Deidre Knight and Adrienne Macintosh—you ladies rock!

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Prologue

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

Extract

Copyright

Prologue

“YOU CAN’T LEAVE,” Larissa Winston said as she gripped the wood molding lining the doorway, blocking the exit from the patient lounge into the lobby with her body.

Was she really doing this? When had jamming herself between the door and the hallway become part of her job description at PharmaTest?

Four faces stared back at her, each one reflecting a different response: wildness, humor, recklessness and utter disorder. None of which she’d seen in previous test subjects.

Under the watchful eye of the amazing Dr. Mitch Durant, the drug HB121 had been in clinical trials for nearly a year. Usually the test patients simply went to their bunks and quietly slept the night away. In the morning, Larissa would ask a few exit questions, take the subjects’ vitals and process the paperwork for payment. Easy-peasy.

There had never, not one time, ever been a patient revolt. Until now.

She manufactured a stern voice, a combination of the voices of her mother and that scary teacher she’d had in the second grade. “If you will all please return to the patient lounge, I can get you something to eat. I’m sure you’ll be getting very tired soon. I have assigned you each a room for you to rest in until morning. Why don’t you—”

“Are you preventing us from leaving?” the pretty young brunette asked, subject number thirty-five.

“This should make for a very interesting angle to my film,” test subject seventy-eight informed Larissa as he lifted his phone and aimed the camera lens in her direction. Ah yes, this volunteer was the California documentary filmmaker. “Please confess to the world how PharmaTest kidnaps patients and holds them here at the testing center in Dallas, Texas, against their will.”

“Yeah,” the pretty brunette at his side cheered him on. Were they together now? Already?

Larissa had distributed the testing dose to each of them less than an hour ago. How were people coupling up? They should be in deep REM by now, in that dreamless sleep of the fully medicated.

But the filmmaker’s threat hung heavy in the air. A sudden wave of panic struck her in the stomach. Larissa was no social-media dummy. This video would go viral. In less than a second, her Twitter handle would spread from one tweet to the next, followed by the public shaming and embarrassing meme, finally culminating in job loss. If she was lucky.

She plastered on a smile and lowered her arms. “Of course I’m not trying to kidnap you. I have some tea, or perhaps you’d prefer some flavored water? Let’s go to the lounge and you can choose. It’s all part of the compensation for your time. As well as the money you’re being paid as a volunteer test subject.”

“You can keep the forty bucks,” offered the firefighter from Colorado.

That man was delicious, all rugged and well-honed muscles. Not exactly her type, though. Larissa’s weakness was the smart-with-glasses, quiet, sciencey type, like Dr. Mitch Durant. He was the head researcher on this study and the reason she’d stuck around on a job for which the hours were from eight at night until seven in the morning, often screwing up her weekends.

The med student—uh...Stella Holbrook—hooked her hand around the firefighter’s arm. Wait, was this another quickie pairing? Had Dr. Mitch tweaked with the formula again? Added some kind of hooking-up pheromone? Not that she blamed the woman for being intrigued with the firefighter, but c’mon, ladies and gents. This was an experimental drug test, not the club.

Larissa couldn’t just let them leave, could she?

Of course, the four of them were all adults. They could make their own choices. But more importantly, they’d all been required to sign waivers releasing PharmaTest from any liability. Larissa would never have distributed the meds without double-checking to make sure that important detail had been taken care of.

But her dilemma wasn’t just the patients’ well-being. Dr. Durant’s research was important, not just to the man who’d put every bit of himself and his career into developing HB121, but also to the potential pain it would prevent for the hurt and wounded of the world, allowing doctors to give life-saving aid. How many times had Dr. Mitch gifted her with the smile that reached all the way to his dark eyes and told her how important she was to his team? Even now a tiny little thrill inched its way down her vertebrae at the memory. Larissa had to fix this situation for him. Now.

Clearly the pacifying approach wasn’t working. The four looked like they’d rush her at any moment. And they’d win. At five foot two, she’d always been shorter than everyone else on the playground. She’d hated Red Rover.

Maybe a play on their altruistic side would do the trick. “This research is important. All of you wanted to do something to further this study. To help people. By leaving now, you’re changing the sample. That will make the conclusions and results suspect.”

“You said we should be sleeping, right?” the med student asked, a line forming between her brows.

“The drug is designed so that the patient can answer questions if needed or even respond to stimuli and move if in danger, but yes, for the most part, the injured is unconscious.” Larissa nodded, a wave of relief allowing her to breathe again. She was getting through. Finally. At least to the med student. Maybe if Larissa could get her to understand, then the soon-to-be Dr. Holbrook would help to convince the others to stay until their portion of the study was completed in the morning.

“Then, since we’re not asleep, we must be in the control group that got a placebo,” the future doc said, the line on her forehead gone and a smile on her lips.

Subject thirty-five nodded. “I’ve done enough drug trials to know that’s true. I think we can go without changing the end results. You can keep my money, too.”

“What if you’re not in the control group? Please listen to me. This medication is designed to take away fear and panic. Think about it. Are you acting rationally? You’d planned to stay the night as test subjects, and suddenly you want to leave...” Larissa let her words trail off so the significance of what she was saying would sink in with the four of them.

“We’re leaving because this place blows.”

“Big time.”

“I’m ready to do something fun for a change.”

Their words came at her fast and furious. She’d lost. Larissa’s shoulders slumped.

In the future she’d probably end the retelling of this story with, “And that’s how I lost my job...”

And how she lost the man she so, so wanted to see naked. Just once.

But she could still protect him and his research. She owed Dr. Durant that. The kind of people who gave research grants tended to shy away from scandal, and Mitch needed the funding to continue with his work.

“I’m going to ask you to sign something, stating you are leaving the study early and on your own. That you don’t hold me or PharmaTest liable and you don’t expect to be compensated for your time.”

“Why?” the filmmaker asked.

“Because, Mr. Garcia, one of the side effects is short-term memory loss. Usually for twenty-four hours. Still interested in leaving?”

“Oh, we’re leaving,” Mr. Garcia said, and the others nodded.

1

STELLA RAN OUT into the night, Owen right beside her. Hayden and Tony were close on their heels. “I thought that lady was never going to let us leave,” she said as they slowed outside the PharmaTest front door.

“Good idea about the camera, Tony,” Hayden told him, her smile wide in the fading daylight.

The man fell deeper under her spell, not that he appeared to want to stop himself. “That will be the last time I walk into someplace on the spur of the moment. But then, if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here with you now. And that’s something I would regret,” he told her, his voice soft and intimate.

Normally something that sweet would make Stella give a mock shudder and say something snarky, like “bring out the chips for that cheese.” But one look at the tender and serious expression on Tony’s face, and anyone could see he meant exactly what he’d said. It was charming how this tough guy caught her off guard and slipped under her defenses.

Hayden’s whole body angled toward Tony. Oh, yeah, she was a goner.

Stella’s gaze slid away from the couple and smacked straight into Owen’s. His intent hazel eyes were focused solely on her, and Stella’s breath stilled. Everything stilled. Hayden’s and Tony’s soft words faded, the strong Texas wind dwindled, and it was just the two of them, searching for something in each other’s eyes.

Okay, sure, those were some pretty over-the-top observations, but this was a very over-the-top moment for her. As a medical student, she worked in fact and science. Feelings rarely counted. They couldn’t. But tonight, she wanted to let emotions and feelings and passion blow right past sensibility. She could allow herself that. For tonight.

Only two steps separated her from the wall of his chest. She took those two steps in a heady rush, lifted herself on her toes and brushed her lips across his. Soft and quick. Once. Twice. Testing the waters.

Her heels hit the pavement, and she stared at Owen for a moment.

Plunge right in. The water’s fine.

She lifted on the tips of her toes again, ready to explore this sexy man fully. His hands circled around her hips, and his head lowered—

“Let’s get out of here before clipboard lady comes back,” Tony interrupted. “I’ll pull my car around.”

“That was just getting interesting,” Owen said, and smiled down at her, his gaze straying to her lips for a brief second, then returning to her eyes.

She met his smile and nodded.

He lifted a brow. “You want to get out of here? Actually, wait here. I’ll go with Tony to get his car. If you change your mind and you’re gone when we come back, I’ll understand. But—”

Owen interrupted his own words by lowering his head and settling his lips on hers. Whereas her kisses had been quick explorations, his kiss was all about sweet persuasion. He traced her upper lip with his tongue, then gently tugged her lower lip into the warmth of his mouth.

She was ready for something more. So much more.

He cupped her cheeks with his hands and slid his tongue into her mouth. Owen urged her to meet his kiss with equal passion, and by his slow, anguished groan, she accomplished just that. His heat surrounded her. His woodsy scent filled her nose. Her nipples hardened and puckered against the soft silk of her bra.

“C’mon, Owen,” Tony called.

“I hope you’re here when I come back,” he whispered against her lips, and then he was walking away from her.

She wasn’t usually the kind of lady to ogle a guy’s backside. To her, a body wasn’t something to gawk at but to examine and study and, on good days, to be amazed by. She loved learning about all the wonderful and incredible things the human body could accomplish, from bringing forth new life to running a marathon to overcoming invasive surgery and disease. Really, a leg was a leg and a chest was a chest.

But with Owen, it was different. She could appreciate the tight package of his ass. Or the roped, caged strength of his arms as he’d held her. And Stella had to laugh at herself because she wanted to examine Owen, all right, just not in the medical sense. Cue the jokes about playing doctor. She raised her arms above her head and spun, laughing and squeezing her eyes shut tight. The heavy night air welcomed her.

“Are you actually...twirling?” Hayden asked her.

Stella slowed until she was just moving with a slight sway and glanced over to her fellow escapee. Hayden, also known as her new best friend, frowned at her.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happy enough to twirl. Or spin. At least not since I was six. That’s kind of sad. What happens to us that we don’t want to spin anymore?”

Hayden shrugged. “Life, I guess. I was kind of judgey about your spinning a second ago, but now I’m going to join you because we should spin.”

And for one perfect moment, they circled in the parking lot, laughing and reconnecting to their six-year-old selves who’d thought—no, knew—that twirling was perfectly acceptable. Even preferred.

“I’m getting a little dizzy,” Stella said. She planted her feet on the concrete until the world around her slowed. Adulthood always snuck in somehow.

“I can’t believe I left the study like that. I have always, always done what I was supposed to do,” Hayden confided.

“Good for you, then. In fact, you should keep breaking the rules tonight.”

“What?” Tony said from behind them. His navy sports car was parked on the street. Owen unfolded his tall frame from the passenger seat and smiled at her. Yep, an onslaught of goofy responses predictably followed.

“Tonight Hayden should do everything she’s not supposed to.” Tony lifted a brow, acute interest practically radiating from the man. She was happy for her friend that this cute guy was so into her. Tony laced Hayden’s fingers through his.

“Cool car. Does the top go down?” she asked as the two of them walked together toward his car.

“And what about you?” Owen asked Stella. “What do you want to do tonight?”

Her skin prickled and sweat broke out on the back of her neck. So this delicious warmth spreading through her was what it felt like. Because if she wasn’t mistaken, at this very moment, Stella was the subject of some acute male interest, too. And while Tony was great and all, there was a recklessness about Owen, the kind of wink-at-danger swagger and bring-it-on attitude that made her sit up straight and say “yes, please.”

Factor in his sinfully sexy smile and perfectly muscled body, and she was a goner.

You. I want to do you. But it was more than that...

“Tonight I’m living life,” she stated. “I’m not going to watch it from the sidelines. I’m going to grab it, feel it and give it a good shake. You see, right now I want to kiss you again, and that’s something I never would have done before, and I certainly never would have told you about it. Because kissing a man can lead to way too many feelings and emotions, and I have to keep that kind of stuff contained in order to succeed.”

“Who told you that?” he challenged.

“Learned it from the best—my parents. I’ve seen way too many people alter their perfectly arranged paths because of sex and relationships. But not me. Never me. My plans—degree, med school, ER, end of story.”

“So what do you do when something, or someone, threatens all that perfect planning?” His fingers traced down her arm, diverting her train of thought.

“I slow it down and console myself that if it’s meant to be, it will be. Only later.” Stella held her breath for a moment. Swallowed. “But with you, I want to make it be. Right. Now.”

He crooked his elbow toward her. “Coming with me, then?”

“Absolutely.”

Arm-in-arm, they dove into the backseat of Tony’s car like two stars escaping from the paparazzi. She wound up across his lap, her legs tangled with his. And as the sun set outside their window and the dark enveloped them, she twined her fingers behind Owen’s neck and his lips found hers.

“Tony, that’s it,” Hayden said from the front seat.

Owen’s lips left hers before their lip-lock could really get started. He kissed her temple instead. “Didn’t take long for them to interrupt. What was that, fifteen seconds?” He grumbled against the sensitive skin of her neck and she giggled.

“Shorter.” Too short. Stella straightened in the seat and pushed what had to be her very unruly hair from her face. She glanced out the window to find out what Hayden was so excited about. “What’s it?” she finally asked, because all she saw were nondescript office buildings and parking lots.

“The first thing I’m not supposed to do,” Hayden said, pointing to her right.

Tony slowed and angled the car in front of a long aluminum building with a you-could-see-it-from-anywhere neon sign of a roller skate, flashing in bright green and blue. How had Stella missed that blinding splash of color?

“You’re not supposed to roller-skate?” she asked. Stella could come up with half a dozen medical reasons a young woman of reasonable health shouldn’t skate, but none of them visibly applied to Hayden.

“Well, it was a long time ago, but my grandparents had some definite ideas of the kind of trouble a girl could get herself into in the darkened corners of a roller rink.”

Now that made sense. “All my preteen angst just came flooding back,” Stella admitted, awash in fond memories. When makeup was experimental (and forbidden) and her best friend had taught her how to practice kissing on her hand at a slumber party. Everything had seemed so important and boys too complicated.

Actually, not much had changed. Well, except for tonight. This thing with Owen felt anything but complicated, and the only important plan was to live this night fully.

“Girls used to whisper and brag how they made out at the roller rink at school,” Hayden confided, her tone a little wistful. She opened the door, and the overhead light popped on, making her blink.

Tony lifted a brow. “You didn’t?” he asked her.

She rolled her eyes. “As if my grandparents would ever have permitted that.”

He rushed around the car and met her at the door, offering his hand to her like a gallant knight. “Allow me to change that.”

“Absolutely,” she said, and reached her fingers toward his.

“What about you, Stella? Was kissing at the rink part of your education?” Owen asked as they scrambled out of the car to stand on the sidewalk.

“Maybe,” she hedged.

Actually, it hadn’t. At a party, she’d been dared to kiss the guy she’d been crushing on and she’d planted the worst kiss in the history of worst kisses on the guy. She’d missed his lips and managed to swipe the side of his nose instead. He’d rolled away to laugh about her with his friends, and she’d ended up borrowing a stranger’s phone to call her mom to pick her up from the party early. That was Stella’s first official lesson in keeping her emotions to herself, and boys at a distance.

Beside her, Owen crooked his elbow in a gentlemanly move that she was beginning to recognize as his signature. “Let’s make it not a maybe,” he said.

But maybe she could forget that lesson. At least for the night. With a nod, she hooked her arm through his and they walked inside together. She kind of enjoyed this linking elbows thing they had going. As if they were a team ready to face danger or fun together. Probably both.

The familiar scents of perfume and cologne and the oil used on the wooden floor of the roller rink made her stomach clench for a moment. Her most embarrassing experience had happened at a place just like this, and she preferred not to dwell on emotions that brought her down. The roller rink had never figured into any of her plans past the age of fourteen.

But she also smelled beer and gourmet pretzels. Patrons leaned against the railing surrounding the rink while sipping on martinis and gin and tonics, not sodas and fruit punch. Owen wasn’t some teenage boy interested in looking cool to his friends. And Stella definitely knew how to kiss a man now. Besides, she was all about living life tonight, not avoiding it. Roller-skating it was.

They joined Tony and Hayden in the lobby of the rink, where the pair was waiting in line.

Hayden greeted her with a smile. “Stella, it’s adult skate night. It’s like this night was tailor-made for us.”

Tony pulled out his cell phone and they laughed and posed for selfies.

“This light is doing weird things to your hair,” Hayden said. “First pink. Then blue.”