Once we’re in he closes the door behind him and stares at me.

“You need to lock your door tonight, Kayla, please?”

I nod.

He leans in and kisses my temple before leaving the room.

I lock the door after him.

*Jake*

A few of the guys end up crashing at the house because they’re too wasted to drive home.

We’re all early risers, probably because of our strict training schedule. I make the guys coffee and lay out some toast and cereal for them to eat before they leave. They’re all respectful and quiet because they know Kayla’s sleeping.

They’re sitting at the dining table munching on the food when Kayla walks out of her room, wearing her pajamas, which are tiny boy shorts and an ever tinier tank. She’s not wearing a bra.

Her eyes are still half shut and hair all over the place. She’s mumbling something under her breath as her feet shuffle over to the coffee pot.

She pours herself a cup and lazily mopes over to me.

She leans the front of her body to the front of mine and reaches up to give me a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s cold,” she mumbles, still half asleep.

“Uh-huh,” I say, rubbing my hands up and down her arms, glaring at the guys eye licking her. “Maybe you should put more clothes on, Kayla.” It sounds like a request.

“Nope,” one of the guys says. “She looks fine just the way she is.”

She squeals and tenses in my arms and I can’t help the chuckle that escapes.

She moves so my body covers hers, but not before pinching my nipple and twisting it, which fucking hurt.

“Jake, I hate you! Why didn’t you warn me people were here,” she says, moving my body around like a shield as she walks back into her room. Once she’s in, she pushes me out the door then slams it shut.

“Lucky bastard gets to wake up to that every morning,” one of them says.

“Asshole,” someone agrees.

I smile to myself and pick up her coffee.

I knock on her door and she opens it slightly, face flushed from embarrassment.

I hand her the coffee and kiss her on the cheek. “You look beautiful this morning.”

Chapter 38

*Jake*

I hear the front door open and slam shut, then a squeal of frustration. I rush out of the study and run to the entry way.

Kayla is standing there drenched, from head to toe, and muddy. What the fuck?

“It’s fucking pouring and thundering outside, what the fuck are you doing?” I almost yell at her, like she’s a disobedient child.

“I had to get home from work. I walked from the bus stop. This car drove past and the tyres flicked all this dirt and mud on me. And then this dog came at me and I got scared and ran into the bushes but landed in more fucking mud.”

“Where the hell was your phone? You should have called me.”

“It’s flat.”

I roll my eyes. It’s always fucking flat.

She starts to move from the front door but I stop her.

“What are you doing? You can’t walk through the house like that, you’ll get mud everywhere!”

I’m laughing now, because she looks so fricken grumpy and adorable.

“Jake,” she says my name like an annoyed moan. “What do you want me to do? Strip outside and walk through the house in my underwear?”

I raise my eyebrows at her.

“Don’t be an idiot,” she says. “What should I do?”

“Wait there,” I tell her.

I run to our bathroom and turn the shower on, making sure the temperature is right.

I go back to the front door and throw her over my shoulder. She squeals in surprise. When we get to the bathroom, she starts to move like I’m going to put her down, instead I put her in the shower. Fully clothed. Shoes and all.

She screams.

I laugh.

Then she has my shirt in her hands and she pulls me in with her.

She laughs.

I scream. A manly one though. I’m not a fucking pussy.

Then we’re both laughing.

And I realize it’s been a long time since we both laughed like this.

She’s looking at me and I’m watching her. She breaks the stare by throwing her head under the shower spray. Her head tilted and the water streaming over her face and down her hair. Her lips parted partially.

I realize now that were in a confined space, with nowhere to move. And were both soaking wet. And she’s so fucking hot.

My hands automatically go to her hair to try to clean out some of the mud. Her breath catches when she feels my hands on her.

The next second were facing each other under the water, her body pulled into mine, because the space in the shower gives us no other option.

Then she peels off her dress and she’s in a bra and panties and that’s all.

“Dirty dress,” she shrugs, in way of explanation, throwing the dress out of the shower and onto the bathroom floor.

I clear my throat and try not to look at her tits.

Or her legs.

I try to keep my hands to my side so I don’t touch her.

My hands balled into fists so I’m not tempted.

“You’re all dirty too,” she says, pointing to my clothes.

I look down and see mud on my shirt and shorts from carrying her in here.

I take them off and stand in the water in my boxers.

She can see I’m hard, but she tries to play it cool. I can see her chest rising and falling with her breaths and I know she’s as turned on as I am right now.