the hard way that it simply didn’t happen like that in reality. At least not for her. Which was perfectly fine, since tangling with a man only made things messy. She had the list of damages to prove it. Each one as painful or bad as the rest.
So why—out of the blue—she found herself getting riled over it, she just didn’t understand.
“We’re going to head out, sis.” Mark’s voice snapped her back to the moment and she tuned in just as they were stepping through the door.
“Yeah, y’all have a good night.” She waved them off, ready to have a moment to herself. It had been a long day and she could really use five minutes of alone time.
Which brought her right back around to the fact that she liked her life just the way it was—complete freedom and independence. Not a snowball’s chance in hell would she give that up for all the couple moments in the world—no matter how cutesy they were. It wasn’t worth it.
And there wasn’t a man alive who could ever make her change her mind.
PETER WAITED UNTIL Mark and Lorelei had left and then he walked down the long hall until he reached Leslie’s office door. He’d seen her disappear to the back earlier and figured she was still there since he hadn’t seen her come out. Fighting back a smile and resisting the urge to rub his hands together in anticipation, he turned the doorknob and peered inside. He couldn’t wait to see where this interlude would lead.
Leslie was seated behind her desk and her head was leaned back against the chair’s headrest. When she heard the door creak she jerked up straight. Realizing who it was, she tilted the chair back on its spring with a smirk and put her bare feet up on her desk. Then she crossed her slender ankles, and his attention was drawn to her coral-painted toenails. Each big toe had a white flower accent on it, and it was sexy as all hell.
He’d never considered himself much of a foot guy, but he was in danger of acquiring a fetish now. She must have caught the direction of his gaze because she wiggled her toes playfully, a sly grin taking over her gorgeous face. “Is there something you want?”
There was a whole lot of something that he wanted. And it was right in front of him all wrapped up in a sassy attitude. God, he loved that about her. The woman was all kinds of sauce.
For a guy like him who didn’t want the responsibility of holding onto anything, Leslie Cutter was the perfect woman. She was as wild at heart as he was and even harder to handle. “I want the same thing that you want.”
She cocked her head and eyed him, her pretty hazel eyes assessing. “You mean to permanently erase that night from my memory bank? Because that’s what I want—to forget that ever happened.”
Peter tossed his jacket on the purple velvet sofa and made a
Her brows slashed low and her eyes narrowed like a feline’s, flashing with warning. “You’re one to talk about shame.”
The way she said it had something hot stirring to life in his gut. It was the first time she’d willingly referred to that night. Not the most flattering thing to hear, but at least she was talking about it.
Pressing his advantage, Peter strode casually over to the bookcase beside her desk and began perusing the shelves. She stiffened at his closeness and his body reacted to her by going hyperaware and focused, just like it did during a game.
And of course, his palms went sweaty.
She was the only woman who had ever made him nervous. Wiping his hands as casually as he could on his jeans, Peter glanced over his shoulder and caught Leslie checking out his ass. He grinned to himself, his ego boosted. Yeah, his ass was a good one.
It ought to be, he thought, with all the work he put into it. Being a professional athlete meant keeping his body in prime shape, and it was nice to know the effort paid off in other places besides the ball field. “Is there something you want?” he shot back with a raised eyebrow, amused at being able to toss her words right back at her.
“You wish,” she retorted and tossed him a dismissive glance. Only he caught the gleam of interest in her eyes and knew her for the liar that she was.
Peter took a step toward her, closing the gap by a good foot until only an arm’s reach separated them. He leaned forward and caged her in placing a hand on each armrest of her chair. Her eyes widened the tiniest bit, but she held her ground. “I wish many, many things.”
“Really?” she questioned and shifted slightly away from him in her chair. “Such as what?”
Peter couldn’t help noticing that her breathing had gone shallow. How about that? “I wish to win the World Series this season.” It would be a hell of a way to go out.
Her gaze landed on his mouth and flicked away. “Boring.”
Humor sparked inside him at that and he chuckled. “You want exciting?”
She shrugged. “Why not? Amuse me.”
That worked for him. Hell yeah. If she didn’t watch herself he was going to excite the pants right off of her.
Just excitement, arousal, and sexual demands. That’s what he was looking for this time around. And it was going to be fun leading her up to it.
But if he wanted her there then he had to start.
Pushing until he’d tipped her chair back and only the balls of her feet were on the desk, her painted toes curling for grip, Peter lowered his head and until his mouth was against her ear. She smelled like coconut again, and his gut went tight.
“I wish I had you bent over this desk right here with your hot bare ass in the air.”
She made a small sound in her throat and replied, “Less boring.”
Peter grinned. Christ, the woman was tough. “Do you remember what I did to you that night in Miami? The thing that made you come hard twice—one on top of the other?” He sure as hell did. It had involved his tongue, fingers, and Leslie on all fours with her face buried in a pillow, moaning his name like she was begging for deliverance.
She tried to cover it, but he heard her quick intake of breath. “It wasn’t that memorable.”
Bullshit.
He slid a hand from the armrest and squeezed the top of her right thigh, his thumb rubbing lazily back and forth on the skin of her inner thigh. Her leg tensed, but she didn’t pull away.
“Need a reminder?” His tongue slipped out and traced the delicate curve of her ear.
“I might,” she whispered, and he could feel her breathing go shallow.
Lust pooled low in his belly. Reminding Leslie what it had felt like was exactly what he wanted to do. “I thought you weren’t going to sleep with me. Are you going to fold that easily?” Not that he was complaining, but he’d thought she’d be a tougher nut to crack than that. He’d anticipated it even.
What he hadn’t expected was for her to spread her thighs in invitation. But that’s exactly what she did, and the lust in his belly shot straight to his groin, making him instantly hard and achy. Pulling back to look in her eyes, Peter was surprised by the wicked gleam he saw there. What was she up to?
“Isn’t this what you want? Me, willing and pliant?” She put a hand on top of his and guided it closer to her crotch. He could feel the heat coming off her and it nearly made him whimper. “Here, how’s this?” She moved his hand until he was cupping her and could feel her moist heat through the fabric of her pants. “Is this what you want?”
His hand jerked and curled into her, making her gasp. It had been far too long since he’d had his hands anywhere on her body. “It’s a start.” His cock throbbed and strained against the fly of his jeans.
No problems there.
Enjoying himself immensely, Peter cupped her and began rubbing the seam of her pants with his middle finger, taking his sweet, sweet time stroking up, then back down. And he felt her go from hot to steaming.
