Night Maneuvers - By Jillian Burns Page 0,5

room felt hotter than a Memphis summer. He tugged on his T-shirt. This just wasn’t right.

Her brows drew together and she lifted a dainty hand with soft pink nails to cup his cheek. “Are you feeling all right?”

He flinched as if he’d been burned and scooted sideways, away from her scent and touch. But distance only gave him a better view of her incredible figure.

Mitch had seen her in a tank and shorts plenty of times, sweaty from a hard game of B-ball or a day in the Nevada heat under the hood of her Mustang. Now his imagination mutinied and envisioned her sweaty tank clinging to curves he’d never thought of her having before.

Damn, this wasn’t helping his problem. He shifted his weight from one boot to the other.

She glanced around and sauntered over to the rack of cue sticks.

The way she walked, so…soft and sexy. God, had Hughes always had such a luscious ass? It looked just the right size to cup in his hands.

Snap out of it, McCabe. She was up to her old tricks. He’d punked her but good a few months ago and now she was just trying to get him back. They’d been pulling pranks on each other since their academy days. It would serve Hughes right if Mitch took her home, stripped off that dress and found out what those ripe tits felt like in his palms. But he wasn’t about to break his word to Jackson. He still had twenty-two days of celibacy left. Maybe after that he could—

What was he thinking? He couldn’t sleep with his best bud. That would just be too weird.

“So, you want to play or what?”

Play? A trickle of sweat dripped down his temple.

She gestured toward the pool table.

Oh, pool. Right. She wanted to play pool. “Uh, sure.”

She turned and moved down the row of racks, inspecting the different sticks along the wall.

“You did this to yourself just for a practical joke?” he blurted out.

Her step faltered and she fell sideways into the cue sticks, sending them tumbling down.

Before he realized he’d moved, he caught her in his arms. She grabbed his shirt for balance as her ankles righted themselves. A horrified expression flickered over her face, and then was gone. He could feel her heat. Lust crawled over him. Intense. Unwanted.

She struggled out of his hold and stood on her own, smoothing her dress down over her hips. Her fingers slid over her flat stomach and down into the indentation between her pelvic bones, as if she was going to touch herself there.

He tried to swallow, but a hard lump blocked his throat.

A lieutenant appeared from behind Mitch and began picking up cue sticks and replacing them in their slots. “Is the lady with you, Captain?”

Mitch turned to the wet-behind-the-ears lieutenant. The guy was practically drooling, undressing Hughes with hungry eyes. Had Mitch flown through a wormhole in his Falcon this afternoon and landed in an alternate universe? He looked back at Hughes. “Uh…no.”

The lieutenant grinned and edged close to Hughes. “Well, pretty lady, can I buy you a drink?”

Hughes scowled at him. “No.”

“Aw, come on. Are you sure?” He put his arm around her waist and tugged her close against him.

The Hughes Mitch knew would’ve maneuvered out of the lieutenant’s hold, grabbed his thumb and bent it back to the point of breaking for calling her “pretty lady.” But this new Hughes grabbed the guy’s shoulders with wide-eyed surprise.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” The kid crooned as his hand slid down Hughes’ spine to the top of her butt. “I’m Drew.”

Mitch’s stomach cramped. He had a primal urge to crack the jackass’s jaw. Hughes wouldn’t actually go home with this kid. There were rules against fraternizing and he was pretty sure this guy was one of her students.

Hell, even if she was looking for some action, she could do better than smooth-talking Drew. But suddenly, that’s all he could picture, Hughes in bed with Drew, his hands all over her.

Mitch stepped between them and folded his arms across his chest. “That’s Captain Hughes to you, Drew. And if she needs a drink, I’ll take care of it. Now get the hell out of here.”

The lieutenant dropped Hughes like she was a live grenade. “Captain Hughes?” He stood at attention and saluted her. “Beg your pardon, ma’am.” He spun on his heel and marched off.

Hughes turned to Mitch and arched a beautifully shaped brow. An enigmatic smile curved her lips. “Feeling possessive, McCabe?”

Her expression knocked the breath