Fall Into You by Roni Loren

computer back
     into her knapsack. She’d be able to escape to her cabin without him ever knowing she
     was here if she left now. But as she watched Grant’s sauntering gait disappear into
     the night, she found herself rising from the bench and heading away from her cabin
     instead of toward it, the draw of the unknown too tempting for her reporter instincts.
    If he could install a tracking device on her car, then she could be nosy, too.
    She tucked her bag behind a bush near the back side of his cabin, then picked up her
     pace so she wouldn’t lose him. She kept a decent distance behind him. Grant had been
     in the military and so undoubtedly had finely tuned senses for people sneaking up
     on him. And the grounds were so damn quiet, one snapped twig and she’d reveal herself.
     But Grant never looked back, just continued to stride with that swagger of his. A
     man on a mission by the looks of it. Maybe something had gone wrong at the resort
     and he had been called over.
    Grant opened the padlocked gate that led to the other side of the property, and Charli
     ducked behind a tree as he turned to swing the gate closed behind him. Some creepy-crawly
     thing landed on Charli’s arm and it took everything she had not to yelp and shake
     it off. Grant snapped the lock closed, the sound echoing in the silence, and continued
     on his way. As soon as his back was to her again, she did a little shake and got the
     damn bug off her arm, shuddering. She’d rather face a coyote than bugs.
    In order to follow Grant, she had to climb over the low post-and-railwooden fence, which made her glad she’d chosen sneakers tonight. She hopped down to
     the other side and glanced around, half-expecting a SWAT team to lower down from the
     surrounding trees. Grant had made everything sound so top secret over here.
    But no one came to tackle her, and she was able to catch sight of Grant again in no
     time. There were paved paths on this side with solar-powered garden lights lining
     some portions of the trails. The wild Texas brush and trees were trimmed back and
     looked neater, more manicured. There really was no way to remain hidden, so instead
     she pushed her shoulders back and tried to pretend like she belonged there. If anyone
     but Grant saw her, maybe they’d assume she was another guest.
    The main house loomed in the distance—a breathtakingly large building of cedar and
     river rock. Lights glittered around its perimeter but the few windows she could see
     were all dark. She had no idea if the main building had rentable rooms or if it was
     just the place for dining rooms and spas or whatever the hell rich people needed on
     their rustic vacation. Regardless, Grant seemed to be making a beeline in that direction.
    As soon as she rounded the last bend though, something off to the right caught her
     eye. A flash of movement. She turned her head, taking her eyes off Grant, and almost
     tripped over her feet when she saw two men underneath a nearby tree. One of the men
     was shirtless and pressed up against the bark; his partner’s forearm was pressed over
     his wrists, holding his arms taut above his head. Charli’s gaze tracked down and she
     couldn’t help but gasp when she saw where the man’s other hand was. The fly of shirtless
     guy’s pants was spread wide and the man’s fist was wrapped around his partner’s shaft
     in what looked to be a painfully tight grip.
    The man against the tree shifted his gaze, catching sight of her. Their eyes locked.
    Charli stopped, feet frozen in place. Not sure what to do. Wasthe guy being attacked? She couldn’t imagine any man wanting to be gripped that tightly.
     Did he need help? But then he smiled at her—a lazy, drunk-on-pleasure smile, one that
     stirred something unfamiliar within Charli. His partner released his grip on the man’s
     cock in an instant and smacked him audibly across the cheek.
    Charli let out a little yelp.
    “Eyes on me.” Or at least that’s what she