I made a couple of calls, including one to Kate, who thought it was extremely funny that I found myself in the current situation. I told her about Brock’s interest, leaving out a few small details.

She had responded by laughing and telling me more about Brock’s semi-stalking antics that had happed with her, Liv and Julia. Phone taps, GPS location, background checks, video surveillance, satellite feeds. It was eye-opening to say the least.

Having only heard a small portion from the girls in the past was one thing, but when laid out in detail it was even more frightening what he could do. Her exact words to me were, “you might as well give up now”.

I counted myself lucky so far that he hadn’t found any more than he had about me.

The counterfeiter that I had used must have been very good at what he did. Finding him had been difficult. Especially for an eighteen-year-old with no previous experience in such things. But everyone knew someone, that knew someone and I knew a lot of people back then.

The lie I told them was that I needed a license for clubbing and drinking. No one had questioned it, which was sad because I wasn’t the partying type back then. It just went to prove that none of those people knew me at all.

The trail had led to a seedy office in a back alley and to a man known only as “John”. He expected a request for a fake license to get into twenty-one and up clubs. That was his usual gig for people around that age. When I walked in with my eight-year-old brother he had known I was about to ask for something a little different. I could see it pass across his face. But when a lot of cash hit his desk, he was up for the whole new identity package for two. He was also not interested in asking questions. Bribery went a long way with “John”.

And now, no one knew me at all here. Maybe a little, but not who I really was.

I lounged on the couch for a while and kept stretching my foot while I read a book. Bored with Jack London, I finally tossed it to the side and decided to test walking.

I took a few halting steps at first but kept walking around until it felt better. It was still sore but manageable.

The small private pool was way too tempting but I didn’t have my swimsuit. I loved swimming and didn’t get to do it very often. When in a crunch though, I always got inventive.

I wandered back to the penthouse bedroom looking for clothing. When I opened the door I whistled.

“Fucking hell.”

The bed was enormous. Six people could have easily fit in it and it stood on a raised area in the floor on the back wall. A gold and black color theme just seemed to accentuate the magnitude. There was a private balcony and more windows along one wall and after exploring for a minute I discovered two full closets. The entire bedroom suite alone was probably as big as my tiny apartment back in Lakefield.

There was a table in the corner that had looked like it had multiple wires, electronic parts and a couple of new phones in plastic. I wondered if he was always dragged his computer life around with him, even on trips like this.

I found Brock’s clothing hanging in the closet. My hands grazed over the crisp dress shirts and nice polos. I glanced at some of the tags and my eyebrows shot up.

Expensive. With a capital E. As in, five-hundred dollar or more shirts. I recognized a few of them because my father had worn some of the same brands.

Letting out a dark little chuckle, I pulled one off the hanger. Brioni tag, white, long-sleeve. He was going to kill me. It even felt expensive.

I found his boxers next. Again, expensive. Although not as expensive as his boxer briefs. There were designer clothes everywhere. He really was a GQ man.

I stripped out of my clothing and pulled the shirt on. I hated doing it to such a nice shirt but left to my own devices, Brock was going to regret locking me up here. The shirt sleeves rolled up to my elbow and I tied the ends of the front together just under my breasts.

His boxers were an okay fit on me. I wasn’t exactly tiny. A narrow waist and curvy hips fit well into most things though.

There was a slight hint of cologne on the shirt that smelled like Brock. I walked down the hall trying to ignore it but it was definitely distracting. Musky and male.

The clothes against my skin felt a little naughty as it rubbed against me. The fact that it was Brock’s expensive clothing made it a little naughtier.

I found a towel in the bathroom and grabbed the phone before going outside. The heat hit me as I stepped out. It felt humid and thick.

Setting the towel and cell close to the pool edge I stepped into the sun-warmed water.

Chlorine. I smiled to myself.

Bye-bye expensive shirt. It would probably ruin it. Just to make sure, I went all the way under the water and came up drenched with a smile on my face.

I swam around a little. The pool wasn’t any bigger than about fifteen by fifteen but it was enough to play around in.

After a few minutes, I perched on the edge, my long hair soaked and dripping behind me. The warm concrete against my skin felt good. I closed my eyes and let the sun warm my face.

I heard the door open to the patio and looked up.

Brock was stepping out, obviously distracted by something on his phone because he was tapping away at it. He wasn’t wearing his glasses anymore and looked like he had changed his shirt at some point.

“Hey Andi, the dress is here. It’s on the back of the couch and there are some—”

His eyes had finally left his phone and landed on me. His reaction was immediate.

“Fuck,” he said, and gave me a scorching look from my face all the way down to my legs. He opened his mouth then clamped it shut with a grimace. His jaw flexed furiously.

He turned around immediately and faced the patio door again but didn’t go back inside.

“Damnit, Andi,” he barked over his shoulder.

I smiled, “What? Is it the shirt? I mean, you did say I could go swimming. I borrowed it, hope you don’t mind.”

He growled. “No, it’s not the damn shirt! I can replace the fucking shirt. It’s what’s in the shirt!”

I looked down and my eyes got wide.

Ahh gawd. The white, wet shirt was clinging to my bare breasts in such a way that you could see everything underneath. Not exactly what I had planned.

Irritating him was planned. Not giving him a show of the goods.

I flung myself in the pool again with a splash and moved to the middle so he couldn’t see anything.

“Sorry! You said to go swimming so I’m swimming. I didn’t think you were going to be back for a while.”

He set his phone down on one of the chairs before turning around. The look on his face was undefinable. His mouth was set in a firm hard line and he stared at me unblinking. He let out a loud deep growl and kicked off his shoes.

I bit my lip and backed away a little. He looked angry in a way and I didn’t know what that meant. Was he going to do something? I didn’t know him that well and the possibility that he might not be such a nice guy sprang to my mind.

Suddenly he was in the water, pants and shirt on. Once in, he started moving toward me.

I backpedaled as fast as I could. He stripped off his shirt as he came closer. It landed with a splash on the side of the pool. His tanned chest and muscled arms were in full view.

He still had that look on his face.

Shit. My heart started pounding. I turned around and tried to grab for the edge when I felt his arm catch me around the waist.

I let out a squeal and tried to jerk away. I wasn’t sure what he intended but the look he had frightened me in a way.

He lifted me up and turned me around to face him. His hand hooked under my leg and lifted it around his waist before he pressed me against the side of the tiled pool.

I felt his hard cock press against me as he held me in place. The fabric of his pants held him in check but I suspected that it if he really wanted, his pants would be gone in a second.

My arms were hugging my breasts, trying not to make contact with his hard chest in front of me. We both stared at each other for a moment. My breath was coming out in small pants, his nostrils flared.

His hand squeezed my waist and I could feel him relax. He looked at my mouth then back up at my eyes. There was some unspoken thing behind them that I couldn’t discern.

“Truth Andi. Did I scare you?”

I nodded. “A little.”

“Why?”

“You looked angry.”

“Hmm,” he said. “Your face looked scared in the elevator today too. Why? Truth.”

I looked away and the hand at my waist squeezed me again.

“I don’t know.”

“You do know, you just won’t tell me.”

My mouth clamped shut stubbornly.

He took a deep breath. “I’m not angry with you. Just frustrated and I’m not entirely sure what to do with you. You’re young and I get the feeling that there’s a reason why you’re not telling me the truth about who you are. Are you frightened because someone hurt you?”

The answer to that was complicated. Yes, I had been smacked around by two people I trusted to love and care for me for years. Where spilt milk on the couch meant I received a solid hand hitting me on the back of my head and time in a locked closet for an hour. The goon beating me up was just icing on the already ruined cake.

The other issue was he was older and far more experienced with a lot of things. I didn’t know what to do with how he made me feel.

The way he felt against my body made me want him. The way he looked at me and kissed me let me know he wanted me too. He said things that made me question exactly what he wanted and how he wanted it though.

If he knew the truth would he want me as much as he thought he did? He said I had made him chase me. In reality, I didn’t know what that meant. The only other experiences that I had to draw from involving guys, revolved around two long ago relationships that were fairly subdued compared to what he had shown me in a day.

“Truth Andi,” he growled.

I blinked at him and tried to formulate what I wanted to say. The hand he had on my leg reached up and grabbed my wrist. His fingers pressing into the underside again.

“Truth Brock. Yes, someone hurt me a long time ago. I get a little jumpy sometimes.”

He tensed and a severe frown came over his face.

“Who?” he barked. “Who the fuck would do that? What did they do?!”

I shook my head. I wasn’t going to answer that.

He let out a loud frustrated growl. “Is your name really Andi?”

“It’s a nickname.”

“Andrea? Adrianna?”

“No. Stop guessing. Why do you want to know so badly?”

“Because I like to know things. I want to know about you, your life. Let’s just say that you intrigue me.”

“Why do you want to know things? Why do you have to know? Are you that much of a control freak? There are a million women in the world that you could know about. I’m sure you’ve been with plenty that would tell you everything.”

He frowned. “They aren’t you. And yes, I like control.”

“Brock,” I said, and started trying to push him back with the hand he wasn’t gripping. “When the mystery is over I’ll just be another woman you figured out. A puzzle that you solved and you’ll move on. There’s nothing to know.”

“That’s not entirely true Andi. I don’t know what your favorite dessert is. Or your favorite color, although I think it’s red.”

I rolled my eyes. His face was playful again as he stared back at me. “I love chocolate but I also love caramel. So, any mixture of those together is great. My favorite color is green.”

Like your eyes, I wanted to say. That would play too much into his ego though and I wasn’t willing to feed it.

I poked at his bare chest with my finger. “It’s not like you share anything about you.”

He drifted back in the water with my body still snug against him. His arms wrapped around my waist and back as he slowly moved us through the water toward the stairs.

The look on his face was guarded. It looked like he had some secrets of his own.

“Let’s see, I have parents that I adore that live in Boston. I have two brothers that are younger than me. They’ve got an interesting line of work. My favorite color is white at the moment but depending on what you wear tomorrow I may change my mind.”

I snorted at his statement. Such a flirt.

He chuckled and kept gently moving us through the water. “I’m a fan of fruit. Any dessert with fruit in it.”

“Fruitcake?”

He eyed me. “Not so much, but that was clever. You know I was in the military. I worked in military intelligence for a while, then as a consultant later on for the government. I still do that a little now and again.”

I tilted my head and asked, “What does that mean?”

A pensive look slid over his face for a moment. “It means I work on some projects with some people that want to know things. Consulting jobs.”

An uneasiness settled in my stomach. He was being extremely evasive and it sounded like something I might not like or might not want to know about.

Changing the subject, I asked, “Is your name really Brock?”

He looked relieved that I didn’t ask him about his last statement and laughed. “It’s a nickname. I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

He got to the edge of the stairs and sat down on them, pulling me up into his lap.

“No deal.” I smiled at him. “What’s your last name?”

He laughed again. “Fleming.”

I scrunched my nose at him. “That’s so normal. And you’re not normal.”

He squeezed my ribs and I squealed. “Ahh stop!”

He got a devilish look in his eyes. “You’re ticklish.”

“Yes! Stop!” I laughed as his fingers dug into my ribs again.

“No. I like hearing you laugh. Plus, I’m getting a full view of you in my shirt.”

I looked down and realized he had come up the steps just enough that my top was above the water where we sat. I covered my chest up again with my arms and looked at him.

He stared down at my arms then his eyes slid up to mine.

“You know that’s a very expensive shirt.”

“Yes, Brioni doesn’t make anything that isn’t. I hope you didn’t like your pants. They’re probably ruined too.”

“Well,” he readjusted me in his lap so that I could feel the hard bulge of his cock against my ass, “I’m not wearing anything under them. So, I could have taken them off but I didn’t want to frighten you. Apparently, I should have taken them off because I scared you anyway. How do you know anything about Brioni men’s clothing?”

I blinked up at him and kept my mouth shut.

He gave me a frustrated look. “Truth. How many men have you been with? Sexually.”

My eyebrows shot up in surprise. The look he gave me was challenging, like he didn’t expect me to answer it but was daring me to anyway.

“Wow, that’s quite a question. Men? Or like boyfriends in high school? There were two.”

“Fuck,” he said and closed his eyes. “I need a shower. This is what I mean when I say I don’t know what to do with you.”

I pursed my lips. “I don’t understand what you mean. There’s nothing to do with me. In fact, I think I should probably get off your lap.”

I moved to slide off of him and he grabbed me firmly.

“I think you need to stay right where you are,” he whispered against my ear.

I could feel his shaft pulse against me as he said it and the intent in his tone. My heart raced and a shiver went up my body. One of his hands started sliding up my leg and went under the edge of his boxers.

Swallowing hard, I said, “Brock I think—”

“You’re not wearing anything under here?” he croaked. His voiced sounded strained.

“Uhm.”

He growled. “You’re killing me.”

Before I could respond, a ringing like a chime sounded. It wasn’t either of our phones.

“Shit,” he muttered. “That’s the hairdresser. Are you sure you need your hair done because I think we need to just take a shower. Together.”

The last thing I needed was a shower with Brock. I elbowed him. “No, I need my hair done. Go let them in please.”

“Your hair is fine.”

I frowned at him “Brock, if you want me to help you then go get the hairdresser.”

“Go on a date with me and we can skip the hairdresser and the party. I’ll have someone else take over.”

He was so pushy about this date thing.

“No. Hairdresser, please.”

“Fine,” he muttered and moved me off his lap.

His pants were soaked as he got out of the pool. I finally got a clear view of the tattoo on his arm. It looked like a phrase or a name but I couldn’t quite understand it. He had a series of tribal tattoos all over his back that formed an intricate pattern in the shape of an eagle. It looked like he was patting the front of his pants but it wouldn’t help. He was already making a large pool on the warm cement.

He turned around to me and gave me a wicked grin. His hands were at his waist and I noticed that his pants were unbuttoned.

I narrowed my eyes at him, wondering what he was grinning about.

He shoved his soaked pants down his legs and stepped out of them in front of me. His head lifted as if he was challenging me to look at him and his muscled arms flexed.

My cheeks burned as my eyes wandered down his body. He was completely naked. I could see every fine line of his defined muscles. Even his legs had definition. His smooth and tanned chest was like artwork. His abs were solid and tapered into a v-shape at his pelvis.

My hand flew to cover my eyes and I turned around to hide my growing blush.

He had an enormous cock and it had been standing at attention when my eyes had moved down to it.

Full attention. Full. I would never get that image out of my head. It was burned there for eternity no matter what happened from here.

Brock had been completely aware of what he was doing. No shame, no hesitation. Now I knew why he hadn’t taken is pants off earlier. Had I seen it earlier, I might have considered running. I would have taken a look, a long look, but I would have been out of the pool and over the penthouse patio rail had he gotten in the water with that monster between his legs.

He laughed deeply. “Back in a minute. I’ll get you a towel.”

I looked over my shoulder at his retreating ass that thankfully was wrapped in the towel I had brought out earlier.

“Shit,” I muttered.

He was a menace.