Seduce Me

Exhausted, he collapsed on the beach.

Sam left Red and the others still in the water and came up next to Jack, lightly slapping him on the butt. 'Not bad.'

His response was nothing more than a grunt.

'So… I'll see you next weekend.'

He cracked open an eye. 'Huh?'

'For basketball, remember?'

'Why do we have to wait a week?'

'Because we started out doing the weekend thing, so I figured why ruin a good plan?'

'I need a better reason than that.'

How about because she needed a good seven days between viewings of this man-he was far too potent. 'Because I don't see you bouncing up to show me anything right now,' she came up with brilliantly.

'Oh. Yeah.' He closed his eye again. 'Right.'

'You really didn't do so bad today.'

'I guess if I can still hear you, that means I'm still alive.' He hadn't moved a muscle.

She ran her gaze down the length of him, more than a little concerned by how much she wanted to throw herself on top of him. Her wants were usually far more controlled than this. 'How's the knee?'

'If I say it's awful, will you take me up to your place and make it all better?'

Lorissa, who'd walked over to them with Cole at her side, shook her head with disgust. 'And to think I had such high hopes for you.'

Still on the sand, Jack rolled over, shaded his eyes from the now-piercing sun and looked up at her. 'Too cheesy, huh?'

'Waaaay too cheesy.'

'Yeah, you're probably right.' With a groan, he stood up, and took Sam's hand. 'How's this, instead? Can I take you out to breakfast?'

'Much better line,' Cole said. He laughed when Lorissa gave him a baleful stare.

'But it's… lunchtime,' Sam said inanely.

'Okay,' Jack said, undeterred. 'How about lunch?'

'I have to work.'

'I'll cover for you,' Lorissa offered, but Sam shook her head.

'I'm fine working.'

''Kay.' Jack blinked at her innocently. 'Then how about some of that lotion for my knee before I go?'

She couldn't refuse him that and he knew it. Before she could think better of it, he'd followed her over the bluffs and up the stairs of the cafe to her apartment-and into her small bathroom, where his big, tough body crowded her as she reached into her medicine cabinet.

When she turned to hand the lotion to him, he was right there, and putting his hands to her hips, lifted her onto the vanity.

'Jack-'

'Here's the thing,' he murmured, his mouth skimming her jaw. 'I can't stop thinking about you, about how you taste. Give me another taste, Sam.'

He wore only his swim trunks, his chest bare and still damp, his shoulders looking impossibly wide, his head bent in concentration as he nibbled at the corner of her mouth. His hands moved slowly, caressingly, up and down her arms, giving her the same undivided, single-minded attention he'd given to surfing.

She skimmed her hands up his back, rough with sand, and offered him what he wanted, another taste. With a rough groan, his mouth opened hungrily on hers. He dropped the lotion in the sink so his hands could cup her bottom, his fingers flexing against her as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck. 'Mmm,' rumbled from deep in his throat as he pulled her against the rock-hard bulge now in his swim trunks.

The desire to fall back and let him take her right there was so strong she nearly pulled off her bikini and sank to her knees on the floor, but instead she pushed free. 'I've got things I have to do.' She needed some time here, some distance, if for no other reason than to get her breathing back to normal. She'd go make some sandwiches for the cafe and clear her head. Maybe make herself something extra-fattening for comfort. Reaching behind her, she grabbed the lotion in the sink and put it in his hand. 'I'll see you Saturday.'

'Chicken,' he taunted softly, but he let her hop down and lead him to the front door, which told her he was every bit as much a chicken as she.

* * *

Over the course of the next week, Sam kept herself busy. She had the cafe, which was thankfully hopping with late-summer action. She also had her friends, her surfing and any number of things in her life; such as her obsession with making brownies that could be eaten and not used as cement or paint.

But being out in the water only reminded her of the man she dreamed about every night. It didn't help that Lorissa enjoyed asking about him, or that Jack continued to call each evening so they spent long hours on the phone just talking.

By the time Saturday came and she was dressing to meet him, she could hardly stand it.

She was going to sleep with him. Actually, there likely would be no sleeping involved. Just lots of calorie- burning, good sweaty stuff.

Naked stuff.

Oh yeah, naked stuff really worked for her.

And then after that, she'd be over it, over him. She could move on. That's how it always happened, and that's how it would happen here, too. She'd kiss him sweetly and leave.

And never see him again.

It would be mutual, of course; she held no great illusions about herself. She wasn't anything special; in fact, she could be rather difficult, was a natural loner and not at all steady lover material.

Going over all of this in her mind, she drove to Jack's house. He'd called her with directions, and although she'd suggested meeting at a school or a local gym, he'd laughed that off and said he wanted privacy for this.

Privacy. Sounded good to her.

As she neared his place, she wasn't surprised to find herself in an extremely expensive area of Malibu. When she pulled into his driveway and stopped at the gate, she stared at the largest three-story glass-and-concrete beach house she'd ever seen.

She had no idea why it hadn't really occurred to her that Jack Knight was one loaded guy. He probably had more money than she could dream of and more ways to spend it than she could count. Slightly uncomfortable, she pushed the buzzer and waited.

'Hey,' came his voice from the speaker. 'You look good enough to eat.'

She looked into what she'd thought was a mirror next to a number pad but realized it was a camera. She laughed, because she was wearing surfer, not basketball, shorts-she hadn't had any-and two spaghetti-strapped tank tops, one layered over the other. A beat-up old sweatshirt kept her warm in the early morning chill. Not exactly glamorous. She'd found socks at the last moment, and had them tucked into the tennis shoes hanging around her neck. 'So do I need a passport to get in or what?'

'Nope, just a smile.'

She had that just from the sound of him.

The gate swung open to let her in. She drove up the ambling, curvy driveway toward the house, beyond which was her beloved ocean. She parked right in front of the steps and took in the sight. The property itself-acres and acres of green grass and naturally landscaped beauty-grabbed her by the throat and held on.

She couldn't imagine having this much land to herself, with a private beach, clean of debris and people.

Heaven on earth.

'I'm way out of my league,' she whispered and, wondering if he had a butler and a maid and a cook and all that, she turned off the engine.

She firmly reminded herself she was here because they had a connection, a sexual one. It hummed and buzzed