Untamed: (Heath & Violet) (Beg For It) by Callie Harper Page B

door.
    “Let me get you
closer.” He started the engine and pulled us up 50 feet. Then he
got out, crunched around and opened my door for me. He wasn’t
asking me to stay. He wasn’t even asking for my number. But he was
opening the door for me and in my post-orgasmic endorphin-flooded
brain that felt nice. I needed to get a grip, which I did on him as I
exited the cab of the truck and held onto his giant arm as we walked
up to the front door.
    Gary was home. He had
the key to my condo waiting for me. And if he was surprised that I’d
gotten an escort from Heath, he didn’t show it.
    “Let me give you a
lift over to the condo,” he offered, shrugging into his jacket. I
did notice that my parka far outsized anything I’d seen a local
wearing. But I was a lot colder than them. My L.A. blood ran thin.
    “I’ve got some
luggage.” I gestured toward Heath’s truck.
    “I’ll follow you
guys.” Hands dug into his jacket pockets, Heath turned back to his
truck. Without me. I watched his back for a second, wishing
momentarily that I was with him heading back to his beat-up pickup.
But I shook that off. This was nothing more than temporary insanity.
Maybe I’d caught a local fever from a mosquito bite. Or there’d
been something in that hard cider, some pheromones. Only I’d been
wild for him since the second I saw him.
    “This way.” Gary
cleared his throat, politely reminding me that we were standing
outside in the snow late at night. I followed him to his truck and we
drove all of two minutes to a nondescript two-story building. I had
no idea how our network’s travel people had found the place. I was
used to being put up in chic boutique hotels, the hottest spots to
see and be seen. Maybe this was Watson, Vermont’s equivalent.
    The whole transaction
was over in five minutes. Gary opened the door and showed me around a
tidy little place that at least looked recently updated. Heath
brought my bags up and into the entryway. My luggage was so heavy it
had made the people at United grimace and charge me extra weight
fees. Heath carried them like they were postage stamps. Both men said
goodnight at the same time, and I thanked them both. The only
difference was one of them had given me a mind-numbingly intense
orgasm a few minutes earlier. Thanks for that.
    “Good meeting you,
Violet.” Heath reached out and took my hand in his. I guess it was
just a hand shake, but at the feel of my hand enveloped in his warm,
rough palm, the broad manliness of it, I felt a tingle run down my
spine all over again. His eyes were so dark and intense. There seemed
to be so much behind that gaze. I couldn’t help but wonder about
him, who he was, what was his story.
    But that would have to
unfold for the viewers of the reality series I was pushing. Because
tonight Heath turned and left, no digits in his cell phone, no offer
to show me around town tomorrow. Like what we’d just done in the
cab of his truck was no big deal, already forgotten.
    Only it hadn’t felt
like that. It had felt like so much more, like he’d been as caught
up as me, as overwhelmed and bewildered at our connection. The way
he’d buried his face in my hair and breathed me in. The way he’d
whispered my name, as if discovering a rare treasure.
    It gave me a lot to
think about. Good thing I had four large suitcases filled with stuff
that needed to be unpacked. It would keep me busy and hopefully
provide enough distraction that eventually I’d fall asleep.
    §
    The next day I didn’t
wake up until after noon. I was still on California time. The skies
were dreary and dark and the curtains were drawn. Plus, I’d been
through a lot the night before. The harrowing drive. The blistering
orgasm. These things required sleep the next day.
    Yawning, stretching
like a cat, I took a moment before getting out of bed. I loved going
out on location, but I hadn’t done it too often. Most of the shows
I’d worked on were filmed either in L.A. or NYC and I felt like
both