Take Me in Tahoe by Shelli Stevens Page A

pitch black—she ran her hands over the smooth wooden walls.
    No light switch, just more wall. Wall. More wall. Wait, what was that? Something warm, and…hairy?
    “What the—” She jerked her hand back, just as arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her off her feet.
    The war cry that erupted from whoever was behind her mixed with her terrified screams. The person—a man, it felt like—held her high against his chest as he crossed the cabin.
    “Don’t hurt me! Oh, fuck, please don’t hurt me!” The air rushed from her lungs as she was flung onto a bed or couch. Fear clogged in her throat, and her blood pounded.
    She rolled away in an attempt to escape from whoever it was, but he was already on top of her, pinning her hands above her head with a knee on each side of her waist.
    Shit! If she got out of this alive, she would beat the crap out of Shaylee. Who the hell would send her friend up to an isolated cabin to get raped and murdered?
    He transferred her wrists to one hand and lifted himself away a tiny bit. She heard him click on a lamp and bright light filled the room. She squeezed her eyes shut, crying out in pain.
    “Who are you? Breaking and entering is illegal in case you didn’t know.”
    His voice was rough, raspy, and—God, she was stupid for thinking it—damn sexy.
    “Who am I?” she peeked at him through one eye, wondering if the man would match the voice. Yes, unfortunately. “I’m the bitch who’s about to have you arrested.”
    Arrested? Was the woman nuts? Chase eyed the woman beneath him warily. She certainly looked a little…different.
    Her black hair was in two braids, each one coming to rest just below her chin. Green eyes, rimmed in dark black eyeliner, glared up at him. Her tongue darted out across a lush mouth, tracing over a faded red lipstick stain.
    His gaze moved lower to the tight black sweater that hugged full breasts. His cock stirred slightly, and he bit back a groan. Stop looking at her tits . He glanced lower, noting the obscenely tiny black and white plaid skirt that revealed pale white thighs. Thighs that soon disappeared into knee-high, laced-up black boots.
    He shook his head. Christ. Only he would catch a kinky gothic chick trying to break into the cabin he was using for the weekend.
    “I think you’ve got that backward, lady.” He reached down and grabbed his belt off the floor, wrapping it around her wrists.
    “Oh, hell no . I’m into some freaky shit, but not with a complete stranger who looks like he belongs in a boy band.”
    Boy band? His eyebrows rose, and he glanced down at his brown slacks and blue sweater. How was his attire similar to a boy band? It was completely normal for a dentist just off from work.
    “And I wasn’t breaking and entering, I had a key. Or did you miss that fact while you were tackling me like some testosterone-laden football freak.” She glared at him. “What? Didn’t make the team in high school, buddy? Living out your fantasy now on some poor, defenseless woman?”
    “Defenseless? Ha.” Scowling, he tightened the notch a little and secured her to the bed. Too bad he didn’t have a gag too.
    “Where did you get the key? Did you pickpocket it from some guy?” He glanced at her again, hoping she was sufficiently restrained while he grabbed his cell phone.
    “Pickpocket? Oh you are so thinking in the wrong direction, Mr. One Direction.” Her eyes widened, and her mouth twisted into a scowl. She started jerking on the belt and kicking the air toward him. “You jackass. I don’t pickpocket, despite you having already condemned me to be some druggy thief. I was given a key.”
    “Fine. Say I believe you. Who on earth would give you a key to my cabin?”
    “Your cabin?” Her gaze snapped back to him, the green eyes seeming a little more uncertain now. “No. This is Justin’s cabin.”
    He stopped before he could dial the police. Justin? His blood pressure rose, and he pressed his palm against his forehead. Was she one