Happy 4th of July to all! You’re busy with picnics, fireworks, and families, so I’ll make it quick and hot. *wink*
Excerpt from LIP LOCK now available from Samhain
It was him. Dr. Foxfire. And the man was staring right at her—boring a hole through her with an intensity that scorched. Without unlatching his gaze, he started up the bleachers toward her.
The breath she held burned in her lungs until she grew dizzy. Sparks lit the air between them like a thousand fireflies on a warm summer night. Or was it just her imagination?
It was hard to look back at him. He was so damn…manly. Wearing faded jeans and a simple blue T-shirt, he looked like a GQ ad. She glanced away—then back.
He mounted the bleachers slowly, one confident step at a time, looking at her as if he was
coming right for her.
Oh my God, he is.
When he was three steps away, her body peaked with desire. Nipples bunching under her layers, pussy swelling. Her heartbeat quickened. A shiver ripped through her, and she tensed her muscles to keep her reaction from showing.
Two steps and she felt herself leaning forward.
One and she clenched her hands into fists to keep from reaching for him.
The voice of the commentator boomed through the loudspeaker, but Hayley couldn’t register his jumbled words. Probably because Brant’s words obliterated all the noise on the field.
“Hayley, we’re sitting together.”
What the hell kind of arrogant command was that? And why did it send such delicious tremors up her spine?
She scooted down the wooden bench and gave him what she thought was enough room. He took a seat, eating up more space than she’d expected. His thigh touched hers. Their shoulders were flush.
Inching away, she sought some breathing room. What was he doing here? Muddling her senses, that was what. Hell, were the people around her cheering?
Brant gazed at her until she squirmed. Then he looked at his hands, which twisted and flexed in his lap. “I hope you don’t mind sitting with me.”
What if she did? He hadn’t given her any choice, just a bold statement that they were sitting together.
She found her voice. “It’s okay. Do you have a child in the game?” Maybe he was rooting for the opposing team.
A grin creased his face, cutting perfect grooves around his hard lips and the corners of his sparkling eyes. His shoulders relaxed a little. “No. I came for you.”
She sucked in a harsh breath at his admission, heart thundering out of control. A band of wild horses on the prairie wouldn’t have made more racket. The crack of a ball being struck with a bat sounded, but she couldn’t pull her gaze from Brant.
“For me?” All at once, she was aware of her disheveled state—old jeans rolled to the knees against the heat, a vintage hippie shirt she’d snatched up at Anecdote the instant it came in, and her Reedy Tigers baseball cap jammed over the hair she hadn’t bothered to brush since morning.
Brant crowded closer, sharing so much heat she was liable to combust. His cologne flooded her senses, and she found herself drawing great, gulping breaths.
“Yes, I’m…sorry to be so forward.” He looked away, staring across the field. For a long minute she simply gaped at his profile, marveling at the play of sun over his features and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his thick throat. When he swung his gaze back to her, her breath hitched.
“Hayley, I couldn’t get this out of my head—the way we look at each other.”
So there it was. He felt those lightning strikes to the soul too. Her breasts ached and her pussy throbbed. Lust hadn’t really been part of her world since the early days with Kent, but her body seemed to remember the word well enough.
“Home run for number seventeen, Drake Graff!”
The excited bellow snapped her to attention. Guilt and shock infused her system even as she jumped to her feet. She’d missed her son’s at-bat because she’d been drooling over his orthodontist.
Brant stood as well—too close. To hide her discomposure, Hayley started wildly clapping. Drake was running the bases with the graceful ease she’d once seen in another man who’d once stolen her wits—Drake’s father.
A good reason to stay away from Brant too.
Drake located her easily in her usual place in the stands and waved, his face all smiles. Relief washed through her. Her son didn’t seem to be aware that Brant was beside her. Damn, beside her was an understatement. Their bodies were so close she was practically in his arms.
Squeezing her thighs together, she abruptly sat.
An amused smile graced the man’s face as he took his place beside her. “He really is a talent.”
“Yes.” Drake—neutral territory. They weren’t talking about the constant heat waves rolling through her core or the fact that her nipples were about to slice through her shirt. “He’s a natural.”
“I’m sure you’re extremely proud.” His gaze flicked to her ball cap, then down to her face once more.
For some reason, he seemed bigger, more…man. In his spacious office, his big frame had overwhelmed her. Out here in the open air, under the blue Wyoming sky, his presence was somehow even more intrusive.
She couldn’t sit here forever and pretend he hadn’t sought her out. Mustering the courage, she spoke. “What did you think was going to happen between us today, Dr. Foxfire?”
He shrugged, a carnal look on his face that flattered her ten ways to horny. He chafed a hand over his features as if to wipe it away.
She bit her lip. No, she couldn’t allow herself to be endeared by that gesture. But damn, he was the finest male specimen she’d seen in too long, and he was here with her—for her.
**Thanks for reading! Enjoy your holiday!**
LIP LOCK at Samhain http://store.samhainpublishing.com/lip-lock-p-7430.html
At Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Lip-Lock-Country-Fever-ebook/dp/B00BUKRAN4/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1364380969&sr=1-1&keywords=lip+lock+country+fever
At B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/lip-lock-em-petrova/1114852573?ean=9781619214699
~hardworking heroes–in bed and out~