Penalty Play - Lynda Aicher Page 0,23

should I come over?” she shot back before she changed her mind. Maybe it wasn’t a booty call, but if it was, one with Henrik would be hot and hopefully as sweaty and dirty as she’d been imagining.

Yes, seriously hot.

All that power beneath her... Her sex clenched just thinking about grinding down on top of him. Playing with his balls as she rode him long and slow. She cleared her throat, heat rushing up her neck to warm her cheeks. Yeah, she would definitely love to get wild with him at least once.

Of course, actually seeing his piano would also be amazing—in a very different way.

“How about now?” His shoulders had shifted back just enough to widen his chest and return the confidence to his presence. His hair ruffled with the wind, feathered across his forehead in a dance she wanted to catch.

She shoved her hair away from her face again, caution warring with want. How about now? Why not? Why? Because he asked, and I want to say yes.

“Okay,” she said, the word dragging out on a hitched syllable. Okay. Yes. She wanted to see his “piano.” This was good.

His grin broke out, wide yet hesitant. “Cool.”

She ignored the thumping in her chest and dug her phone out of her pocket. “Give me your address. I’ll meet you there.”

“I can drive you.”

“I have to work later, so it’s fine.” She opened the navigation app, ready to add his information. It was several moments before he gave her his address. So he was north of her parents’ house. “That’d be a long way to bring me back anyway. So this works.”

“I drive it all the time. It’s not bad.”

“It’ll save you some gas.” And allow her to leave when she wanted. She was being impetuous, not stupid. She tucked her phone away and motioned behind her. “I’m parked that way.”

“I can walk you.” He took a step in that direction before she grabbed his arm to stop him.

“It’s okay.” Chivalry had its limits.

“But—”

“It’s fine. I can walk there by myself. I do it every day.”

Indecision warred on his face before he nodded. “Call if you get lost.”

“I will.” She squeezed his arm, just now remembering she still held it. Getting out of there before she said something stupid seemed like a really smart idea. She turned and walked away, the wind gusting a refreshing blast of cold air onto her heated face.

Was she really ready for this? A possible hookup with Henrik?

They were two consenting adults. There was nothing wrong with dropping by his house for a round of afternoon sex—or playing the piano. Lord knew she couldn’t bring him back to “her place.” Just the thought of sneaking him through the kitchen past her mother had her snorting.

Seven more months, that was all. She’d get her degree...and then what? Almost eight years later, and her medical bills still hung over her family. Add in her school loans that’d kick in after she graduated, and she’d be lucky if she could afford to move out before she was forty—if she made it to forty.

No. She had better things to think about right now. Like what she was going to do with Henrik when she got to his house.

She was probably crazy to be doing this, but she was tired of second-guessing herself and living with doubts. Hadn’t she’d learned early and hard to grab what she wanted while she could? Yet here she was living the life of a good little girl.

She wanted Henrik Grenick and she was going to have him.

Even if it was just for the afternoon.

Chapter Seven

Henrik stood in the middle of his living room and simply breathed. In and out. In and out. His clenched fists, shoved deep in his pockets, slowly loosened. In and out. He opened his eyes, the woods greeting him. The wind beat at the windows in increasingly stronger gusts that worked the leaves from the trees in a swirling confusion of color.

Jacqui was coming over. She’d fill up the space and make the silence go away.

What if she wanted to play the piano? It was what he’d invited her over to see and do.

The beautiful clear notes his sister had coached from it floated into his mind, both soothing and damning. Could he handle hearing it played again?

He paid to have it played—when he wasn’t home—tuned and generally maintained. He knew it was still in perfect condition, even if he hadn’t played it himself. Jacqui would treasure its grace and musical

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