“Hey, it’s Tornado Allie,” called Eric as he and his wife spotted her sitting on a high stool at the hotel bar.

She gave a small wave, her cheeks heating as the other storm-chasing guests hooted and hollered for the fifth time since she and Taryn had shown up for a celebratory drink. Apparently the story of their dangerous brush with the tornado and her subsequent laughter had made its rounds before they’d returned to the hotel.

Now everyone called her Tornado Allie.

She’d been called worse.

They were lucky. A different tornado had hit a nearby town and destroyed several homes and a school.

Allie sipped on her second mojito, already feeling the effects of the first. In the past, she’d merely slammed shots for the sole purpose of getting buzzed. Now she planned to actually taste her drinks.

Mojitos were yummy.

A husky rumble of laughter from across the room made her stomach drop and her nipples harden underneath her tank top. She pivoted on her chair and glanced over her shoulder at Drake standing between Miranda and Natalie like the filling in the middle of their sandwich. She didn’t doubt for a second the girls were thinking the exact same. She couldn’t blame them.

Mojitos weren’t the only yummy thing in here.

Like her, he had taken a shower to wash away the grime and dirt from the accident. Still wet, his hair was a couple shades darker than his normal caramel color, and it curled at the ends, especially around his ears. Rather than wearing another one of his official Blow Me Away shirts, he’d thrown on a simple white tee that accentuated his thick, ropy biceps.

The guy would look great on television. He had a straight nose, high cheekbones, full lips, and long eyelashes, all of which taken individually would appear quite feminine, but together on Drake—100 percent tasty alpha-male goodness.

How did a storm chaser get such a hot body? What did she really know about him other than he was Taryn’s older brother?

Since they’d met, she hadn’t seen him lose his cool once, and with more than a dozen guests—several of them at one time or another complaining to him about mundane things that would have driven Allie crazy—it couldn’t be easy. Yet through it all, he’d remained controlled. Even when the tornado had thrown their van like a die-cast car, he’d stayed calm.

What would it be like to have all that control concentrated on her?

“Earth to Allie. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” Taryn waved her hand in front of Allie’s face.

She realized she’d missed what her friend had said. “Sorry. I was lost in thought.”

“Care to share?”

“Care to share what you and Jack were doing in the shed?”

Allie had seen all the signs of Taryn having the hots for Jack. Every time those two were within twenty feet of each other, the chemistry was so combustible, Allie was surprised it didn’t end in a chemical meltdown.

Taryn lifted her drink. “Well played, my friend. We’re all entitled to our secrets. Especially when they concern opinionated men with rock-hard abs and a tight ass.”

From behind them, a deep male voice she recognized as Jack asked, “Anyone I know?”

Allie twirled around on her chair to a grinning Jack. And Drake.

“Are you eavesdropping on us?” Taryn asked.

Jack folded his arms and leaned in closer to her. “Nah, but since my ears were burning, I figured you were talking about me with Tornado Allie.”

“You’re delusional.” Taryn crumbled the napkin into a ball and threw it at Jack. With one hand, he caught it right before it hit him in the face. She grabbed her purse off the top of the bar and slid off her chair. “Drake, I don’t know how you could stay friends with such a Neanderthal.”

Drake raised his hands. “Keep me out of this.”

Taryn kissed Drake on the cheek. “I’ve got a phone call to make. Allie, I’ll be right back.”

Jack punched Drake in the shoulder and casually strolled away as if he wasn’t planning to follow Taryn.

Drake pointed at the seat. “Mind if I sit here until she gets back?”

“We both know those two aren’t coming back anytime soon.” Her Drake-a-titis returned with a vengeance. She grabbed her purse and pulled a cherry sucker from it, just in case she needed it, and then dropped her bag on the bar between her and Drake.

Drake winced. “How are you feeling? Any residual soreness from the accident?” He dropped onto the stool beside her and pivoted, brushing his knees against hers.

Heat infused her body at the subtle sensation of his crisp hairs rasping against her smooth skin. “Nothing worth mentioning. I think most of my aches are from the hours driving in the minivan. I’ll have to make an appointment for a massage when I get back home.” Once she returned to the privacy of her apartment, she’d take care of all those inner aches caused by this week’s sexual frustration.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “You live in Cleveland, right?”

“I did, but I recently moved to Chicago for a job.” It was one of the hardest decisions she’d ever made, but soon after recovering from pneumonia, she’d left her family and friends and moved to the new city on her own. She hadn’t regretted it for a second.

With a gleam in his baby blues, he sat up tall and inched forward in his seat, wedging his knee between both of hers. “What do you do?”

Sharp arousal thrummed through her, and she fought the urge to squeeze his knee between her thighs. “You happen to be looking at the producer of Chicago’s lowest-rated morning news program.” Needing something to hold in her trembling hands, she picked up her purse from the bar.

“You’re kidding. I—” Drake shifted in his chair, knocking his elbow into her purse.

As it toppled to the floor, several items spilled out, and she immediately took inventory of it. Her lipstick…a compact mirror…her cell phone…her suckers…

And her naughty list.

She slid off the chair and crouched to pick everything up, but Drake was quicker.

“Sorry about that. I’ll get it for you.” He lifted the piece of paper and held it out to her. She knew the moment he caught the words “naughty list” because he froze. Then he stood with the list still in his hand and started to read it.

Mortified, she laughed, shoving everything else back in her purse. “That’s my bucket list. I guess I could cross off seeing a tornado.” She got up from the floor and waited for him to return it, but he seemed mesmerized. “May I have it back, please?”

He trapped her between his warm body and the cool bar, his focus entirely on her just as she’d fantasized. “You want a one-night stand?”

“TELL ME MORE about your naughty list, Allie.” Who would’ve thought sweet little Allie had such a sexy, dirty mind?

As of this afternoon, three hurdles had stood between them.

He’d jumped the first one an hour ago when he, Jack, and Cole had voted unanimously to reverse their “no fraternizing with the guests” policy right after Drake had given Jack permission to pursue Taryn on the condition Drake would kick his ass if he broke her heart.

Then Allie had tossed the second hurdle out of their way without even knowing it existed, innocently mentioning she worked at a news station in Chicago. Based on her description, she worked for the same news station he’d signed a contract with last week, accepting the job as their new meteorologist.

He had a feeling one night with her would never be enough, and thanks to this amazing turn of events, they’d have the opportunity for more.

Beginning tonight.

She swallowed hard, gazing at his chest in rapt fascination. “I already told you about my bucket list. This one’s like that. Only…for sex,” she whispered, a faint blush crawling up her neck.

“You have anyone in mind?” Gently tipping up her chin.

Glazed eyes. Dark dilated pupils. Flushed face.

Hell yeah. She wanted him.

He held his breath as he waited for her response, his gut tightening at the thought of some other guy making all her sexual fantasies a reality.

“You.”

He’d planned to slowly ease her into a sexual relationship with him. Make certain he didn’t take anything from her she didn’t want to give.

Her naughty list was his kind of kink. No pain. No humiliation. Only white-hot pleasure.

Three hurdles removed. Nothing stood in his way.

He palmed the back of her neck and dipped his head to finally take a taste of her sweetness, only to have her hand cover his mouth and stop him.

“Wait, I wasn’t done speaking,” she said. “I’ve wanted you all week, but if you hadn’t found that list, I don’t think I would’ve ever asked you for it. Now that it’s the last night and we’re not going to see each other again, I feel like I can try the items. Only you have to promise me if we ever run into each other in the future, we’ll pretend it never happened.”

Just like that she’d replaced a hurdle with a solid brick roadblock.

“Are you saying if we lived in the same city, you wouldn’t have sex with me?”

“I guess.” She shrugged. “It would make me…uncomfortable. As long as it’s one night only, I’m in.” Throwing her arms around his neck, she moved in for the kill, rubbing the stiff tips of her breasts on his chest, her firm thighs bumping his legs.

Maybe it made him an asshole, but he no longer had the willpower to walk away. “You got yourself a deal.” He crushed his mouth over hers. The tastes of rum, lime, and mint exploded on his tongue.

One night. Not enough but he’d take it for now.

Then he’d use everything in his arsenal to prove to her how good it could be between them and convince her to give them a chance at forever.