Page 71 of The True Garza

With that, he sprints off, leaving me to chase after him.

CHAPTER Nineteen

“No more jeans around me, okay?”

Lonny

True gets back to thecomplex a long stretch ahead of me. My agility and endurance are nothing to sneeze at, but still not enough to keep up with this man.

“You’re so determined in everything you do,” he comments when I finally make it to where he’s waiting for me at the front door. “You should’ve tapped out a long time ago.”

How is he breathing so evenly when I’m hustling for breath?

“Can’t help it,” I pant out. “I grew up in a house of challenge-chasers.”

“Hm.” He guides me through the door. “Bet that’s what made you such a good detective.”

“Most likely.” I stop to take off my shoes. My pinky toes hurt. “It was either them or me. And I’m not very good at losing.”

He moves to the kitchen, gets two bottles of water from the fridge, and throws me one. “Hungry?”

Twisting the cap off the bottle, I shake my head. “Weirdly enough, I feel the opposite of hungry after cardio.”

He nods. “And fucking starving after ten minutes of yoga.”

“Yes!” I exclaim with wide eyes. “Every. Time. Wait, you do yoga?”

“Yup.”

That makes me smile, imagining him in a pair of yoga tights. Oh, how divine those strong thigh muscles must look in warrior pose. The visual has me feeling even thirstier than before. I guzzle down all the water.

“Do you mind if I take a shower before we leave?” I ask, dumping the empty bottle. “I feel icky.”

He gestures for me to go ahead, his gaze fixed on the kitchen counter. And I’d give anything to be able to read his thoughts right now.

Off to the bathroom, my shower lasts a lot longer than intended. Because the water pressure is amazing and the body-wash smells like almonds. It’s maybe even better than the luxury shower in Nevada. That’s what I’m trying to convince myself of, at least. When, really, it’s simply because it’shisshower.

After I’ve sufficiently hiked up the water bill, I glance at my sweat-soaked clothes on the floor and mentally kick myself for not having the forethought to get a change of clothes from the SUV first. I wrap myself in one of the fluffy white towels from the cabinet. I’ll have to ask True to get my bag for me.

When I emerge from the bathroom, the place is drenched in darkness except for a dim glow of light coming from the stairway that leads up to the second floor.This man is so weird.

“True?”

When no response follows after calling for him several times, I climb the stairs. At the landing, there are hallways in both directions, but I go left since there’s light spilling from the room close to the end. Soft music drifts toward me as I pull closer to the glow of yellow light.

The door is only ajar when I get there. I push it open. It’s a bedroom. A huge one. With more of the same manic wall art and oversized furniture. Instead of an actual bed, there’s a mattress on the floor. A California king, by the looks of it, but still just a mattress.

Standing in front of the dresser is True, a towel wrapped around his waist while he dries his hair with another. Freshly showered…and,wow, I’d almost forgotten how sinful that body looks without clothes. Taut, rippling muscles; flawless tawny skin just begging me to rub my wet pussy all over it.

Our eyes meet in the mirror.

“Why did you turn off all the lights?” I ask him. “Did you forget I was here?”

He tosses the hair towel aside. “Come here.”

My feet don’t even hesitate to take me across the room to him. Why fight it at this point?

By my wrist, he tugs me in front of him, my ass pressed back against the dresser. There’s turmoil in his eyes. Like he’s fighting a struggle of his own. He wants me, and he doesn’t want me. And, oh man, do Iget it.