Nice Girls Finish Last

She heard the growl, felt the shift as he moved closer still so his body pinned hers. His hands cupped her face, holding it up to his, and for a few carnally delightful seconds he seduced the soul out of her. But just as she was really getting into it he broke away, angling so he could look hard at her. His blue eyes blazed.

‘Now you have the gleam,’ he said, voice thick with satisfaction.

She gasped and started to blast him with some sarky thing on the tip of her tongue—only, before sound even emerged he swooped back and took her tongue with his own. She growled then. Oh, he was hot. And bold. And delicious.

She tasted his smile as he switched to a series of soft teasing kisses. His hands slipped to her neck, his fingers stroking downwards, skimming hot sensation over her skin. But her passion ran far deeper than that.

That formerly locked-up dam spilled more heat, spinning it along her veins until anticipation tingled in every cell. Need spiked. She moved, her muscles all fire-fuelled strength. She shivered and pressed her mouth harder to his, hurtling them back to the bruising, blistering, barely controlled hunger of seconds before.

She totally forgot about rubbing the oil on his jacket to pay him back for his smug arrogance and out-of-order assumption. Instead all she could think of was having him closer, harder, heavier against her. She clung as urges rampaged through her. Urges she couldn’t suppress. She kissed him—hungry, wild, restless.

Reckless.

Her fingers tightened into his jacket, her toes tightened in their shoes, her muscles tightened in her womb. She wanted to clench down on something really hard. And the really hard thing was pushing right against her.

She couldn’t have broken free even if she’d wanted to. Some violent force bound them, demanding closer intimacy. More furious, more hungry. She devoured the sensations. Devoured him. Blissfully out of control and utterly abandoned to how good it felt.

Their lips sealed, tongues stroked, locked into a rhythm, deep, rough, outrageously passionate. His hands pressed down her back to shape her waist, and then cupped her bottom, pressing her pelvis harder against his.

It had been for ever since she’d had a physical release. And she’d never been this turned on by a few saucy sentences and a couple of kisses. But this was so much more than kissing. She moaned into his mouth as the uncontrollable fire turned her reason to ash.

She was so tension-filled she couldn’t uncurl her fingers, but she pulled her hands apart, jerking his jacket open so she could press her tight, aching breasts against the spectacularly solid wall of his chest. She pulled harder and his jacket slipped partway off his shoulders, half pinning his arms to his sides, but his hands were exactly where she wanted them anyway—gripping her hips, hauling them closer to his in time with every thrust of his tongue.

A door banged. More noise followed—a sudden volume of voices—men’s voices.

He released her instantly. Lena crashed back against the wall, hitting cold, hard reality. He stepped up in front of her, his body a barrier so she couldn’t be seen from the doorway, a surprisingly protective move. But she didn’t stop to say thanks. Not when she’d just blown her rep to smithereens.

Her brain screamed the order. Her body followed it.

She fled.

CHAPTER TWO

FASTER, faster, faster.

Lena knew exactly how to shortcut through the myriad corridors in the massive complex, so she scurried along them, got to her office, snatched her handbag and was in the ladies’ loo before she could gulp the breath her lungs were bursting for.

She gasped when she saw her reflection and thanked all the stars she’d got there without seeing anyone. Her lipstick was a mess, her hair mussed, her mouth huge. As for her eyes, her pupils were so massive and dark she looked as if she were on something. Which she was—lust, hormones, the highest of natural highs, and she’d wanted to ride the wave all the way to the top, not be dropped out halfway to heaven….

Oh, she’d been an idiot.

She scrubbed her hands but could still smell the baby oil. She held a bunch of tissues under the cold tap and pressed them to her lips. It didn’t cool them a fraction. She debated whether it was better to reapply lipstick or leave it. Went with reapplying. Not having any would look more unusual. She never went bare at work because she had an image to maintain. Polished, capable, professional. The kissy fullness would settle in a few moments, right?

Oh, so stupid, stupid, stupid.

She’d worked so hard to earn respect and a good reputation here and she’d just chucked it. For what?

The kiss of a lifetime. Definitely. But it wasn’t worth her job.

Despite her hammering heart and desperate urge to flee the place altogether, she had to go back and implement damage control—sooner rather than later. She swiped her comb through her hair to smooth it, closed her eyes and counted to ten. She’d fix up the last couple of shirts for the team, then deal with the five-car pile-up her life had just become. She fussed with the fabric, getting it perfect while questions spun so fast in her head it was worse than being on some g-force terror ride at a theme park.

Who and how and why was he there? It wasn’t the right time in the season for a new recruit and he’d been right about it being a restricted area…so who?

And what had she been thinking? It was his fault—right? He’d invaded her personal space and made boundary-crossing comments and started the whole explosive episode. He’d kissed her. She’d been the innocent party…sort of. But her heart knew the truth and her body just wanted more.

Seth had shrugged his jacket back up to his shoulders and walked forward as soon as he’d heard the door open. Breathless, his brain obliterated, he had been guided by pure instinct to protect her as best he could.

But in the few seconds it took for the door to bang shut again—with no one having walked through it—she’d gone. Faster than lightning, she’d streaked down the corridor. He didn’t chase her; in the split second he saw her turn a corner—she knew exactly the way out of there. He didn’t.

So what he had to do was find Dion. Because Dion would be able to tell him who the flamethrower was.

Wow.

He chuckled and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, checking it. Yeah, a smear of the slick red she wore on her lips coloured his skin. He rubbed again to be sure he was clear, then ran his hands through his hair and exhaled hard, trying to release some of the tension.

As if that were ever going to happen. He was so wound and wired it was a wonder he could even walk. But walk he would—just as soon as some of the blood pumped back out of his pants and up north to his head. It took a few moments—hindered by the fact that all he could think of was that woman with the creamiest skin and the palest green eyes that were totally, totally feline. Given the smart-but-pretty dress and heels and make-up she had on, he guessed she worked here, probably PR, given her polished image. Less polished now he’d messed with her….

Yeah, none of these thoughts were helping him recover his control. He forced it, breathing out again and striding forward through the change-room door. ‘You in here, Dion?’

Seth stopped a few paces into the room and blinked at the sight. Dion was on the edge of a group of rugby players—all of whom were clad only in white towels, while a few more were posed in one corner of the room. In between the two groupings stood a photographer, camera in front of his face as he issued instructions and click, click, clicked.

‘Hey, Seth, glad you could make it.’ Dion had recently stepped in as CEO for the stadium. He was another property-development addict, and his new diversion was perfect timing as far as Seth was concerned—now for more than one reason.

‘Yeah, thanks.’ Seth smiled, exceptionally glad he’d come here today. ‘What’s going on?’

But Dion was staring at him with a curious expression. ‘What did you do to your jacket?’

Startled, Seth glanced down and saw streaks of something all over his lapels. He frowned, put his fingers to a spot an

d felt the slick dampness. Then he remembered— Green-Eyed Girl had grabbed his jacket as she’d snapped back at him. She’d held on to it tight. Now he knew why. She’d had some kind of slime on her hands and she’d wiped it all over him. The devious creature. He laughed, tickled and no less turned on. ‘Oh, I don’t know.’

He took it off—happy to—given he was still hotter than hot.

Dion still looked curious but Seth just jerked his head towards the team. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Last couple of shots for the annual calendar shoot.’