EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT: Chasing Reese by Imy Santiago

Chasing Reese by Imy SantiagoGenre: Contemporary Romance



Beep, beep. Beep, beep.

I wish I had a bat so I could smash the damn alarm clock. I roll to my side and silence the sound from hell. My body is still running on Eastern Standard Time and if I’m honest, I don’t feel rested at all.

I look around me in amusement. There’s a messy pile of winter gear next to me. I recall wearing my coat and gloves when I drifted off to sleep. This was not due to the cold, but to exhaustion. Somehow in my fatigued state, I managed to take them off. This time difference is going to take some getting used to.

I wiggle out of my leggings, and throw on my black oversized t-shirt. Crawling back into bed, my hands caress the Sherpa comforter. Grinning, I snuggle back underneath it. It feels so soft against my bare legs and arms. Let’s just say it feels like complete heaven. In matter of seconds, I drift off to sleep.

Knock, knock. Knock, knock.

I must be dreaming. Who could possibly be knocking at this hour? Curling into myself, I try to fall asleep again.

Knock, knock. Knock, knock.

In a fight or flight panic, I get out of bed with a jolt. I try to stop in front of the mirror to look at myself, but the persistent knocking makes that impossible. I’m confident I look completely disheveled; looking like a plow ran over me. In my rush to get to the door, I trip over a suitcase. My pinkie toe, which has done nothing terrible in its life, gets stubbed in the process. As I dance in place, I curse the inventor of suitcases and toes. Fuck, that hurt! Limping towards the door, I swing it open without even looking through the peep hole.

The arctic air slaps me in the face and if that wasn’t bad enough, the sunshine is bouncing off the fresh snow at the foot of the mountain, creates a blinding glare. I have to shield my eyes and cross my legs simultaneously, something reminiscent of a 1980s dance move.

“Fuck!” I curse loudly as a draft of cold air breezes through the open door.

“Well, good morning to you too,” says a familiar voice.

I quickly forget the cold and the glare, and let my hands fall from my eyes. Stryder Martynus stands in my doorway, fully dressed in super sexy snow gear holding two Styrofoam cups, with his equipment bag lying at his feet.

His eyes travel from my face down to my bare legs, and a slow smile appears on his lips. I gasp, realizing I answered the door half naked. I close the door enough to cover myself, but with ample room to peek my head out. My teeth begin to chatter.

“What the hell?” I blurt.

Stryder just stands there and smiles, with a twinkle of excitement in his eyes. “Good morning, Pardo,” he purrs.

The unmistakable warmth of desire begins to blossom within me. I clench my thighs tightly together, trying to make the deliciousness of his words and gaze to go away. I feel my cheeks heat up. Get a grip, girl.

“Good morning, Martynus. To what do I owe this visit so damn early in the morning?” I quip, annoyed yet pleased at the same time. “It’s fucking cold!”

Stryder chuckles, revealing a dimple high on his left cheek bone I hadn’t noticed before.

“Have you taken a look at the time?” he replies amused. He begins to nod when he sees my face, registering the fact that I overslept.

I turn my head into the room looking for the time. 9:48 in the morning. Shit! I let go of the door, and run to my cursed suitcase to get something to wear. A blast of cold air rushes into the room, forcing the door to open wide.

Stryder’s voice calls out. “Pardo, I’m coming in!”



I walk into Catalina’s room rather uncomfortably, but it’s cold outside. Besides, I brought her a coffee and I’ll be damned if she doesn’t accept it. Walking in, I remind myself to avert my eyes in respect to her privacy.

The air swooshes as Catalina rushes past me to grab something from her suitcase. Her shapely legs are fully exposed and utterly gorgeous as she bends over. I swallow hard against the desires of my inner devil, and I look the other way. I wish the same could be said for my dick. Think other thoughts, Stryder.

“Excuse me,” Catalina says, snapping me right out of my wayward thoughts.

I look at her trying to appear calm, hoping she doesn’t see the massive hard-on in my snow pants. I clear my throat and smile.

“Is that coffee? If it is, I will kiss your feet right now,” Catalina tells me with thirsty eyes.

“Yes, indeed it is. No kiss required.” I try my best to sound unaffected. Who am I kidding? I’d kill for the opportunity to kiss her lips and discover the taste of her body. She takes the cup from my hand and winks. “Sorry I woke you up. You must have been in a deep sleep. We have to be at the lifts by 10:15 for a briefing. After that we’ll meet Jackson at the foot of Village Peak where we’ll watch his practice runs,” I ramble, trying to sound professional when my thoughts are anything but.

Catalina looks up to me, listening intently to my every word in her t-shirt and bed head. I swear she’s so fucking beautiful. I need to remind myself that she’s also a no-fly zone. But my eyes betray me as I look at her−hungry−wanting to feel her lips against mine, and her hands pulling my hair. I must be mentally ill because I can’t control my thoughts around Catalina.

“I’ll head out and wait for you by the ski lifts,” I blurt, trying to sound casual.

“Let me just get a few sips in. Can you hold tight for a few minutes?” Catalina asks, throwing the remote on my lap. I flinch as it grazes my dick.

“Watch something. I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes,” she says, putting the coffee down, grabbing her clothes, and racing into the bathroom. I try to avoid looking at her beautiful shape as she runs past me. Before closing the door, she takes a peek out and gifts me a smile. “Thank you,” she says softly.

Opting to keep my mind occupied while Catalina gets ready, I check my equipment bag, and as soon as I place it on my lap, I notice it is other equipment that needs checking. I do last minute checks to my camera, lenses and back-up batteries.

As soon as I hear the water running, my mind starts to wander, but before my thoughts go to that wayward place again, my phone rings.

It’s Olivia−someone I have no desire to talk to, especially now. I ignore the call, and stand up. Then the bathroom door opens, and a fresh-faced and beaming Catalina walks over to me. She looks stunning.

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