Red Hot Obsessions by Blair Babylon Page A

watch him pour himself another glass. Insanely-fucking-sexy.
    I’d like to think that I’m different from all the other women who seem to just fall at his feet. That I won’t allow myself to be distracted by pecs and abs and bulging biceps. That I won’t allow myself to be taken in by a jerk who just happens to have a charming smile. I’ve been there with Garrett. I won’t make the same mistake a second time.
    But there’s no reason I can’t fantasize a little , I tell myself. I'll never actually let him touch me.
    Calder’s still standing next to the sideboard, his hand on his glass. His shoulders are tense, his muscles tight, his eyes focused on some invisible distance. I itch to go in there, to rub his shoulders and help him relax, but I quickly fight down the urge. It’s no wonder he’s tense, after the way he’s handled the Center—and undoubtedly other organizations as well.
    But in spite of myself, I imagine my fingers sliding over his chest, tracing those smooth muscles, sliding down the hard shape of his body. I want to feel the heat of him, know the velvet softness of his skin beneath my touch. My heartbeat quickens as I picture the path my fingers would take across his flesh.
    Calder is completely oblivious to my thoughts. After a moment he turns and moves back toward the bed, glass in hand. I watch his muscles shift beneath his skin as he moves.
    He puts his drink on the nightstand and picks up an electronic tablet. He turns toward the television and presses the tablet screen a few times. The channel changes with every tap of his finger. When he's found something he likes, he sets the tablet back on the nightstand. His hand moves to his towel.
    My breath catches in my throat as he pulls it away from his waist. Suddenly he's completely naked, and I have a full-on view of his backside.
    Dear sweet mother of pearl.
    He’s a freaking god.
    A moan from the television is the only thing that could tear my eyes away from that hard body. I glance up at the flat screen, and my heart just about stops when I realize what's he's watching. There are two naked women on the screen, and one's straddling the other, her hands roaming over her partner's breasts.
    I jerk away from the spy holes again. I know I shouldn't be shocked—people watch porn, after all. I’ve watched porn, though honestly I prefer romance novels to sleazy movies most of the time. But it's one thing to watch a dirty film in the privacy of my apartment with my vibrator in my hand and quite another to watch a gorgeous man watch porn from a secret passageway.
    I lean against the wall. Through the paneling, I can hear more moans and heavy breathing coming from the television. I also hear the soft give of a mattress—Calder climbing into bed.
    I should go. This is wrong, standing hear listening to this, spying on Calder as he… as he… But I can't seem to move my feet. My blood is rushing in my ears. There's an ache beginning to form between my legs, and it keeps me frozen against the wall.
    In the bedroom, I hear Calder exhale a long breath. One of the women on the television begins squealing. I can't help it. I'm drawn to the spy holes once more.
    Calder lounges on the bed, his hand around his long, hard length. My entire body goes hot at the sight of him touching himself. His hand slides steadily up and down. The ache between my legs sharpens into a throbbing.
    I should go, but it's too late now. I'm riveted by the sight in front of me. I can't turn away. I slip the hand that doesn't hold my phone beneath the waistband of my pajama bottoms. My fingers slide between my legs, seeking the core of my building frustration. I'm already getting wet, and my flesh quivers at even that first, light touch.
    My eyes move to the television again. The woman on top leans forward and closes her mouth around her partner's nipple. My own nipples stiffen beneath my pajama top. What would Calder do if he knew I was here? If he knew I was growing aroused at the same