Triple Score

“I’m going to count to three.” His breath mingled with hers. “Are you ready?”

She nodded.

“One.”

She swallowed hard.

“Two.”

She closed her eyes.

“Three.”

In a heartbeat, the cookie vanished from her hand and her index finger was drawn into the warm, wet vortex of his mouth. He worked his way down to her pinkie, tormenting each finger in turn with his lips, teeth and tongue until they were sucked clean.

“There.” With one last lick, Jace released her hand, and it flopped into her lap like a newborn kitten. “All gone.”

Zip-a-dee-doo-dah.

Noelle wasn’t promiscuous, but she wasn’t a sexual novice, either. How had she gone so long without experiencing...that? She shivered, picked up the tin of cookies and snapped the lid back on.

“Wait. You’ve got a few crumbs. Right—” he pointed to the corner of her mouth “—there.”

She lifted her hand to her lips, but he caught it, stopping her.

“What are you doing?” Every last one of her nerve endings hummed with anticipation.

“I’m still hungry.” He brought her hand down but didn’t relinquish it, instead stroking slow circles on the inside of her wrist with his thumb.

She glanced at the tin in her lap. “There are more cookies.”

“That’s not what I’m hungry for.” He plucked the tin off her lap and set it down on the bench behind him. “I think you know what I want.”

Yeah, she did. And she wanted it, too. Trouble was she knew exactly what path it was going to lead her down—and what would be waiting for her at the end.

Heartache.

Loneliness.

And, if she was really lucky, a big, steaming serving of humiliation.

Exactly what she’d been left with when Yannick called it quits. Unless she could somehow manage to engage her body without engaging her heart, something other women seemed to have mastered but she could never figure out how to accomplish.

Live a little, Holly’s voice echoed again. What’s wrong with Mr. Right Now?

“I repeat.” He raised his good hand and tangled his fingers in her hair. “If you don’t want this, stop me now.”

She couldn’t if she tried.

So she didn’t.

He pulled her in and he crushed his lips against hers. Not shy or tentative, this kiss was like the man himself—hot and hard, forcing the air from her lungs. It demanded a response that she gave willingly, opening her mouth so he could slide his tongue inside.

He tasted good. Like coconut and almond from the macaroons but somehow better, as if their sweetness was mixed with the spice of wild, hungry sex. Sex the likes of which she’d never experienced, that would leave her breathless and panting and begging for more.

Her tongue met his and she melted into him, wanting—needing—more. Her fingers clutched at the soft cotton of his shirt and she moaned into his mouth. She couldn’t recall ever feeling so wanton, so desperate. Whether it was due to the man or her six months of celibacy, she didn’t know.

Beneath her hand, the muscles of his chest tightened, making her breath hitch. Who was she kidding? She knew damn well. It was the man.

He broke off the kiss, leaving her momentarily bereft until he worked his lips over her chin, down her neck, to the hollow of her throat, leaving a warm, wet trail in his wake. She tilted her head, encouraging him to explore further, just in time to catch of glimpse of something moving in the trees past his shoulder.

“Wait.” She stiffened, listening, her eyes straining to see in the fading sunlight.

“Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts now,” he groaned against her skin, his mouth pushing past the neckline of her peasant blouse to skim the top of her breast. “Just when it was getting good.”

She thought it was already pretty damn good, but there wasn’t time to argue. “There’s something—or someone—out there.”

“Probably an animal.” He moved to the other breast without missing a beat.

“You don’t understand.” The flutters in her stomach traveled lower even as she pushed him away. “What if it’s one of the nurses? Or another patient?”

He raised his head to pin her with a heavy-lidded stare. “Embarrassed to be seen with me, Duchess?”

“Ohmigod, what if it’s the paparazzi?” she asked in a whisper, ignoring his question. They’d had a field day with her and Yannick’s messy split, half of them painting her as a naive girl caught under the spell of her older, more experienced choreographer and the other half making it look like she was an opportunistic fame-seeker willing to screw anyone who could help her on her way up the ballet pyramid. And Yannick was a D-lister compared to Jace. If the press got wind of this...

A squirrel darted out from the trees, cocked its fuzzy little head at them and scampered off in the opposite direction from where Jace and Noelle had come.

“There’s your paparazzi.” Jace smirked. “Looks like your reputation is safe.”

“For now. That was too close for comfort.” She rose unsteadily and adjusted her blouse, struggling to tamp down the desire still thrumming through her veins. “We have to get out of here.”

“What’s the matter?” He joined her standing. “Never made out al fresco before?”

“Not usually, no.”

He made a show of bowing to her, bending low with a flourish of his good wrist. “Then I’m flattered to be the man who persuaded you to change that.”

“One kiss does not a habit break.” She pulled a hair tie out of the pocket of her jean shorts and tamed her lust-mussed locks into a ponytail. “It was a...”

“Don’t you dare say ‘mistake.’” His gaze slipped down to the obvious bulge under the zipper of his Lucky’s. “Whatever the hell that was, it was definitely not a mistake.”

“Fine.” She looked away from his erection, heat creeping up her cheeks, and ambled as fast as her bad leg would take her up the path to the relative safety and privacy of her room. Jace caught up to her after a few steps. “I won’t say it.”

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t true. The man was like her own personal Kryptonite. Powerful, dangerous, hypnotic. She’d have to try all the harder to stay away from him or be rendered completely and utterly helpless to resist his hard-bodied, tatted-up, bad-boy spell.

4 (#ulink_79a53be8-51c9-574b-bda1-22a82b46cd35)

“GREAT JOB TODAY.” Sara took the barbell from Jace’s hand and replaced it with a towel. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Same bat time, same bat channel.”