That Kind of Special Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Loose Id Titles by Abby Wood

  Abby Wood

  THAT KIND OF SPECIAL

  Abby Wood

  www.loose-id.com

  That Kind of Special

  Copyright © July 2013 by Abby Wood

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of this e-book ONLY. No part of this e-book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from Loose Id LLC. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  eISBN 9781623001902

  Editor: Crystal Esau

  Cover Artist: Scott Carpenter

  Published in the United States of America

  Loose Id LLC

  PO Box 809

  San Francisco CA 94104-0809

  www.loose-id.com

  This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning

  This e-book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. Loose Id LLC’s e-books are for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  * * * *

  DISCLAIMER: Please do not try any new sexual practice, especially those that might be found in our BDSM/fetish titles without the guidance of an experienced practitioner. Neither Loose Id LLC nor its authors will be responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from use of the information contained in any of its titles.

  Chapter One

  The breakup message was finally delivered. Katina lengthened her stride, feeling lighter than she had in the last two weeks with the finalization of that nasty task. Her desire to make a clean getaway pushed her forward through the lobby of the apartment building.

  Three steps away from the exit, she smiled. Colby Wilson slid into the category of just another man from her past.

  “Katina. Wait.” Colby grabbed her arm, stopping her escape.

  She let her chin fall to her chest before turning around and facing him. “It’s over, Colby. I’m sorry, but it’s not working for me. You’re a terrific guy. You deserve someone who’ll put you first in their life, and at this time, that’s impossible for me to do.”

  “Can’t we talk about this?” Colby released her and ran his hand through his blond hair. A frustrated action he’d done continually in the ten minutes it took her to break up with him.

  They’d dated for three months after a mutual friend set them up on a blind date. After two weeks, she knew it would never work, but she’d tried. She’d honestly tried.

  “I’m sorry.” She stepped back, feeling for the door behind her. “I need to concentrate on my career, and until I’ve built up my clientele, all my attention needs to be focused on designing.”

  “Dammit.” Colby planted his hand above her shoulder, trapping her against the door and barring her clean exit. “This isn’t fair. Come back up to my place. We can—”

  A tall man approached the exit and clamped his hand around Colby’s arm, removing his grip on the door frame. “I believe the lady would like to leave.”

  “Butt out, bro.” Colby brushed him off and made to grab her.

  The man’s fist came out of nowhere. Katina squeaked, plastering herself against the heavy glass door as Colby fell to the floor, knocked out cold.

  The man tugged twice on the sleeve of his suit jacket and rolled his shoulders. “I apologize for him and having to do that in front of you.”

  A lock of black hair hung down on his forehead from the exertion. She pressed her hand to her chest. Her breath came hard as if the violence personally affected her and not Colby. She’d never seen someone lay out another person so fast.

  At first, she guessed his age in the midthirties, but on closer inspection, he had a slight sprinkle of gray at his temples. Forty, no more than forty-five years old. Her stomach fluttered. The first word that came to mind on describing him was “sexy.”

  And solid. Gorgeous. Debonair. Irresistible. She wet her lips. Even impenetrable, powerful, and if she was honest with herself, a little intimidating. Yeah, he was all of those things.

  He shifted, snapping her out of ogling him. “Are you okay?”

  “Um, sure.” She tilted her head sideways, studying the way his mouth creased in the corner below a strong cheekbone. “Why did you apologize for him? It wasn’t your fault Colby can’t take no for an answer.”

  “Because a man does not touch a woman unless he knows his touch is wanted, and never in anger,” he said.

  Jeez, a real gentleman too. A pleasant warmth filled her lower stomach, and she sighed.

  He leaned forward and lowered his already husky voice. “I think you should let me hail a taxi for you, before this loser wakes up. Are you all right with that?”

  She jolted. “Um”—she glanced down at Colby—”yeah. Thank you.”

  Outside, the evening breeze cooled off the flush she was sure had taken up residence on her face. She shook her head, snapping herself out of the stunned reaction to what happened inside. Nobody had ever come to her defense and punched someone in her honor before.

  She stood on the sidewalk with her arms crossed and searched Fifth Street for a taxi. “Just great. My cab driver took off.”

  “I’ll call and order one.” He lifted a cell phone to his ear and walked a few feet away to arrange a taxi pickup.

  He put one hand in his trouser pocket, pulling up the edge of his jacket. With his back to her, she studied him. She’d originally thought he was merely tall, but he was definitely big in a visit-the-gym-every-morning kind of way. Even his ass filled out the back of his trousers, looking freaking hot.

  He turned around and came back to her side. “It’ll be a half hour before they can send a driver. It seems this time of night on a Friday is rather busy.”

  “Thanks for trying.” She glanced behind her down the sidewalk. “I can walk faster than it would take for them to come. I only live a few blocks away in the Swanson Skyrise.”

  “I’m Trent Bauer.” He removed his wallet, extracted a business card, and handed it to her. Then he gave her his cell. “Call any of those numbers on there, and Barbara, my secretary, will verify who I am. You can ask her any questions you’d like, until you’re satisfied.”

  “Why would I do that?” She held the card and frowned. Bauer Enterprise?

  “So I can take you home,” said Trent.

  She laughed, self-consciously. “I told you, I—”

  “Exactly.” He dialed the phone himself and put the cell in her hand, motioning for her to put it to her ear. “You’ve told a complete stranger where you live. If I were someone else, it would be easy to follow you home. A woman should never
put herself in a situation where she’s not protected.”

  “Hello, you’ve reached Bauer Enterprise,” said the woman who answered the call.

  “Um, a moment please…” She pushed the phone into Trent’s chest. “I’ll just walk, but thank you for the offer.”

  “No.”

  “Excuse me?” She chewed on the inside of her cheek.

  He held up his finger for her to wait. She rolled her eyes.

  “Barbara. Trent. I have a lovely woman here…” He raised his brows, expectantly.

  “Katina Lindtson, but I can—”

  “I’ll be taking Ms. Lindtson home, and she would like validation that she’s in good hands. Would you do me a favor and put her mind at ease?” He paused. “Thank you, Barbara.”

  Who does this kind of thing? She sighed and took Trent’s phone from him. “I guess I need to know if it’s okay to get in his car and let him drive me three blocks…”

  She listened as the woman rattled off pertinent facts about her boss, including that he had one sister and two brothers who were all glowing individuals. The whole time Trent stood beside her, gazing out to the street as if this whole exchange was perfectly normal.

  “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be fine now. Good-bye.” She disconnected the call.

  Not to take anyone’s word on Trent’s honorable status, she texted Doreen from the phone, letting her know the man who at this number was driving her home and she’d call later. A habit they both had when out clubbing and left separately.

  She handed the phone back to Trent. “I can’t believe you made me do that. Last time I checked, I was twenty-three years old…not twelve.”

  His mouth softened. “Ms. Lindtson—”

  “Katina, please.”

  He smiled, and when he let it all hang out, it was a smile that threatened to take her down to her knees. “Katina, in the short time I’ve met you, I’ve knocked out your boyfriend—”

  “Ex…boyfriend,” she mumbled.

  “I’ve knocked out your ex-boyfriend, who seems to have an anger problem along with an unwillingness to respect women. That makes him a risk. You’ve also let me walk you out to the sidewalk—where the street is empty—and it wouldn’t be hard for me to walk into the Swanson Skyrise building, pretend to be a family member, and have access to your apartment because you’ve given me your full name.” He loosened his tie. “If you were my girlfriend, I’d lecture you until you understood that it was an irresponsible thing to do, giving me your name.”

  She blinked, finding it hard to breathe. Never, not once, had she ever had a man that controlling. It equally put her off and excited her in a strange way.

  She gazed into eyes the color of the Hamiltons’ accent pillows she had such a hard time finding last month. Having no way to describe the color to her assistant, she ended up dyeing the fabric herself with a mix of gray and cobalt blue.

  “Katina?” He moved closer, and when she leaned forward, he muttered, “Fuck me.”

  She stared up into his eyes, not understanding why his take-charge attitude fascinated her. All she’d wanted to do was break up with Colby tonight. She wasn’t prepared for the drama it caused.

  But Colby wasn’t like most of her old boyfriends. Her usual way of starting arguments, pushing him away, and showing him he wasn’t strong enough to handle an assertive woman only seemed to make him clingier and try harder to make their relationship work. Every old trick she’d used to get rid of her previous boyfriends failed. This time she’d finally gotten through to him. She frowned and turned away from him. Well, Trent knocked him out cold.

  Trent pressed his hand into her lower back and she looked at him. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. All she could do was watch him pull his phone back out of his pocket.

  “Bring the car around, Tim.” He gazed at her the whole time, and when he was done, he said, “You’re okay.”

  He wasn’t asking. She pressed her hand to her forehead. His domineering attitude took up too much of her energy. That had to be the reason why she felt woozy. “Seriously? Because you’re freaking me out.”

  “Good.”

  She stopped when he moved her forward to the curb. “I can’t go with you.”

  “Yes, you can, and you are.” He sighed deeply. “Don’t think too much. I’m only taking you home and getting you out of harm’s way. Obviously, if your boyfriend was any kind of a man, he would’ve backed off when you told him it was over.Instead, he’s passed out cold on the floor, so you’re stuck with me.”

  “Ex.”

  “What?” he said.

  “My ex-boyfriend.”

  “Thank fuck for that, at least,” he muttered.

  When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “Listen. You’ll get in the car when it arrives, and when we reach your apartment building, I’ll walk you to your door. In less than ten minutes, you’ll be inside, where you can kick off your shoes and not have to worry about dealing with me any longer.”

  And that was exactly what she told herself she’d do. She closed her mouth and nodded.

  When the limo showed up, she climbed in. When the car stopped, she stepped out and allowed Trent to walk her through the double glass doors of the Swanson Skyrise apartment building. She even waited patiently when he paused to talk with Jackson, who worked the front desk, and kept her opinion to herself when he stressed how important it was to check everyone’s identification upon arrival. Even Trent’s, although Jackson appeared to know him, because he’d stood and saluted when they walked in.

  All the way up to the seventh floor in the elevator, she kept her eyes on the numbers lighting up above the sliding doors. The sexy scent coming off Trent comforted her, and it dawned on her that he smelled of sandalwood, a scent that reminded her of her childhood spent with her parents at the coast.

  “Katina?”

  “Hm?” She glanced at him.

  His lips twitched. “The doors are open.”

  “Oh.” She hurried out, turned left down the hallway out of habit, and searched through her purse until she found her key.

  She stopped in front of door 715, and he held out his hand. “Key.”

  She wrapped her fingers around the key chain and hid her hand behind her back. “I can do it. Thank you for seeing me home safely.”

  “Katina.” He held his hand out, palm up.

  She scoffed, turning her back to him, and faced the door. He already talked her into letting him take her home. He sure as hell wasn’t opening her door too. She ducked her head and stuck her key in the lock. Surprised to find her hand shook, she stepped between him and the door, blocking his view of the inside of her apartment.

  Interior decorating was her forte, but her personal space was a cluttered mess that only she understood. Besides, she didn’t want to give him anything that would make her feel lacking in her profession. No man had a right to make her feel inadequate. Ever.

  She wouldn’t allow it. Just because he was rich and owned his own company didn’t matter to her. She owned her own company too. Granted, she was only starting out and hadn’t made the gazillion dollars she hoped to, but she was doing all right.

  Better than her parents thought she’d do, and she would succeed. She wanted the satisfaction of building something from the ground up and having control of her future.

  She stepped inside and held the door as a shield. “Thank you, again.”

  His hand stopped the door from closing. “Katina.”

  “Yes?”

  “Lock the dead bolt.”

  She lifted her chin. “I’m home, safe and sound. You can go on your way knowing you’ve done your good deed for the day, and tomorrow maybe you can help an old lady cross the street to continue spreading your goodwill.”

  He moved his fingers up the door along the edge. She shifted, pushing the door almost closed without shutting his fingers inside. “Excuse me.”

  “Your dead bolt is a piece of shit.”

  She opened the door wider. “What?�
��

  “I doubt if it’s ever been replaced in the last twenty years.” He removed his phone from his pocket. “That needs to be fixed.”

  He paced the hallway, talking on his cell. She squeezed her thighs together, the urge to pee not going away. Unable to wait any longer, she shut the door quietly and turned the locking mechanism in the middle of the handle.

  Her shoes went flying, her coat fell to the floor, and she undid her jeans as she slid her feet along the hardwood floor in the open living space and headed toward the bathroom down the short hallway off to the right. She left the bathroom door open, and relief came after she hit the toilet. She sighed, propping her elbows on her knees.

  Tonight had turned out nothing like she thought it would. She hadn’t planned her breakup with Colby to come with a black eye in the morning. She ripped off a handful of toilet paper. God, Colby was going to be mad.

  She stood, kicked off her jeans, flushed, and washed her hands. Wine.

  The alcohol would drown Trent-whoever-the-hell-he-was-Bauer out of her system. In an hour, she’d forget all about him and his bossiness. She snorted. Really. She was not the type of woman who allowed a man to fight her battles or play her bodyguard.

  She flung her shirt toward the bathroom door handle, failed at hanging it up, and jumped over the silk on the floor. Wine was in order, stat. Then she’d think about doing a load of laundry and cleaning up the place.

  Halfway down the hallway, she pulled the clip out of her hair and set it on the shelf holding a picture of her parents. She ran her fingers through her hair as she walked into the kitchen.

  Her scalp prickled from having her hair up all day. She stopped in front of the fridge and removed a bottle of wine. Using the goblet in the dish rack, she poured her a glass, set the bottle on the counter for later, and turned toward the open living room.