A brand new instalment in Kristen Proby’s beloved With Me In Seattle series is available now, and I have a little sneak peek for you.
I bang on his door and look around. No lights on in the houses on the street. His car is in the driveway, so I know he’s home. I mean, it’s the middle of the night, so where else would he be?
I bang again. If he’s sleeping, which I can’t imagine how he could through that noise, he can just wake up and deal with me. I may sound irrational right now, but damn it, a girl needs to sleep.
Finally, he yanks the door open and glares at me with shining hazel eyes.
“What is that noise?” I demand.
“You. You are the noise.” His chest is heaving. His naked, slightly hairy, very sexy chest. Not to mention, his light brown hair is a mess, and his chin is stubbled, and his tattoos are just…yum.
“There’s a chirping,” I insist, trying to ignore the fact that he’s only wearing short boxer briefs. The kind that clings to a man’s ass and shows off his thighs.
And, you know, other things. Like the generously sized dick outlined in the cotton.
“I don’t hear anything.”
I scowl and pause, listening. Sure enough, it’s gone.
“Come on.” I grab his hand and pull him behind me. I can hear the door shut. “You have to hear this.”
“It’s two in the fucking morning,” he says but doesn’t pull away from the grip I have on his wrist. “Can’t this wait?”
“No, because I can’t sleep.” I pull him into my house and shut the door, then hold my hand up. “Stop. Listen.”
“See!” I push my finger into his firm chest, and then back up a step so I’m not standing so close to his sexiness. Because I seriously want to attack him.
“So change the battery in the smoke detector.” He shrugs and turns to leave, but I run in front of him and block the door.
“I’ve looked for it everywhere, Wyatt. It’s not in this house.”
He frowns. “Well, it’s not at my house.”
“Please, help me.” I bite my lower lip and watch as he pushes his hand through his already messy hair and feel my nether regions immediately sit up and take notice.
“Can you put clothes on?”
“I’m wearing clothes.” I roll my eyes and lead him through the living area, the kitchen, and out to the backyard. “Where is the chirping coming from?”
“You don’t have a robe you could put on?”
I turn to frown at him. “You’re only wearing underwear.”
“Yeah, because it was the only thing I had time to pull on when you were banging my door in.”