The Player Next Door - Kathy Lyons Page 0,49

bed or otherwise.”

“Wow. That’s cocky.”

“You have no idea,” he said with a chuckle. Then he tugged her steadily closer until her pelvis pressed against his erection.

“Hmmm,” she murmured, hating how easily she melted into his arms. “I begin to see your point.”

He leaned down. “So long as you feel it, too.” He kissed her. Hard and deep. God, she was already keyed up. Her belly was quivering, her breath was short, and she was all but climbing his thighs.

This was not good. Mike would hate a clinging woman, and even if he didn’t, she would hate herself. Their relationship was short term, so she had to force some distance between them. She broke the kiss and managed to put all of two inches between them.

“I promised myself I would finish this today,” she said, gesturing to the half-done floor.

He nodded, though there was a flash of disappointment on his face. “So do you need any help?”

She smiled. “Need? No, I can handle it myself, but it’s more fun with a friend. Assuming your shoulder can take it.”

He grinned, rolling his shoulder. “It’s healing well. Faster than expected, really, so yeah. I’d be happy to help.”

She almost said something about a reward afterward, but held back. She didn’t want to bribe him to be with her. And just because she was lusting for his astounding bedroom skills didn’t mean she had to admit to it.

She swallowed her words—and her lust—and offered him a mallet. He took it and looked around the floor. “If we finish in an hour, I’ll spring for the pizza.”

“And I promise to rub your shoulder if it gets sore.”

He grinned. “It’ll definitely get sore.”

She rolled her eyes, but inside all of her went liquid with hunger. But she was not going to be a desperate woman, so she turned away and knelt down to start working. He did the same, but from the opposite side of the row which put him too far away from her, as far as her hormones were concerned.

She ignored them.

And they began to work. Steady banging punctuated by the occasional comment or lemonade break. She kept an eye out to see if he rubbed his shoulder, but there didn’t seem to be any hesitation or hitch when he used it. And—to her shame—he caught her looking and did a little elbow dance to the music just to prove that it was solid.

“I doubt that’s an approved exercise,” she drawled.

“Hmmm. How can I convince you not to tell on me?”

God, they were getting into sexual banter. As if she needed any more reason to watch his biceps flex as he hammered or his thighs bunch as they braced him on all fours. And shit, he was covering twice the area that she was because she was spending so much time ogling him.

She dropped her head and began to work in earnest. She had a damned PhD. She knew how to concentrate when she had to! Except he was really sexy there pounding boards into her floor. And she could really use a break. And what red-blooded woman wouldn’t stop to watch?

“We’re never going to make that pizza.”

“I’m not that hungry anyway.”

He looked back. “Really?”

Well, not hungry for food, obviously. And he knew it. “Mike…” she began.

He shook his head. “You set a goal. We finish this floor. Then I’m going to show you what I want way more than pizza.”

Okay. So that was a goal she could get on board with. So she picked up her hammer and went to work. Funny what the right incentive could do. They had it done in just over an hour. She hammered in the last board and sat back on her haunches.

“Done,” she breathed, beyond satisfied with the work. It looked great and she’d managed to not get distracted by… Ooooo. She felt his hands on her shoulders, big fingers kneading into the knots there. He knew just what she wanted, and her muscles stretched beneath his touch.

“That’s good,” she breathed.

She felt him lean down until his breath was by her ear. “I have a fantasy, Tori,” he said.

She felt her insides quicken. “Isn’t that what rebound lovers are for?”

“Will you stay there? On the floor?”

Given what he was doing to her back and shoulders, she would stay wherever he put her. Damn, who knew she’d been so tense? Flooring was hard work. “I’m putty in your hands.”

His lips curved against her ear and his breath heated her already flushed skin. Then his hands slid lower