After the poles, the Aussie took one more jump and her trainer threw her hands in the air. “Yes, girl. Yesss!” The dog jumped into Lily’s arms, tongue lolling wildly as both dog and trainer pushed out hard breaths.
I whistled and applauded. I’d never seen Jet look more doglike. She always had a feline quality about her, but right then—in Lily’s arms—she was all happy, goofy puppy and they were a kick-ass team.
And Lily... I was in awe. All those curves and strength. Legs churning, arms pumping. My thirst was real. I was damn impressed with Lil’s own agility, speed, and ability to think as she moved.
Remind you of someone?
Sideways. I was fucked sideways. Because I would have given up my MVP trophies, pro-bowl selections, my left nut, and my job to be with her at that moment.
Setting Jet on the floor, she walked toward me with an exaggerated sway of her hips, the upturned lips. The flint in her violet eyes as she made her way to me.
Damn, I wanted her. All of her. The confident trainer. The sexy siren. The smart and brave crusader.
You stupid asshole.
Yep. That about summed it up.
Chapter Ten
“Eh, screw it.” —Lily Costello
Lily
I watched the slow slide of Brody’s Adam’s apple and an exhale escaped my chest. I knew what I must have looked like. Hair wild, sweat on my face, and for real swagger in my walk.
I loved running my girl. The team she and I made. All the hard work we’d put in to get to where we were. Jet was a beast on an agility course, and it was my job to set her up to succeed. We’d run that course flawlessly. And I’d found I didn’t mind showing off a little bit for Brody.
He was thirsting, too. His eyes, hooded and dark, carried over me like electrical current against my skin. “So. Whatdidyathink? Is Jet an athlete?”
“I think that was damn impressive, and yeah, you and Jet are both athletes. How long have you guys been training in agility?”
“Since Jet was old enough to safely take the jumps.”
“I could see your dad come out in you just now.”
“How do you mean?”
Brody’s grin was sinful as he put both palms on the half wall and leaned in. “Speed, strength. Precision and determination. The way you think on your feet and adjust to your teammate. Hell, even your footwork. I would wager if your dad could see you do that, he’d be damn proud.”
Grinning, I turned and started resetting bar heights for the following morning’s class, knowing he’d be checking out my butt as I bent over. Realistically, I knew Brody was a bad bet. Yet, I couldn’t control the way my body reacted when he was around. I liked him watching me. I wanted his hands everywhere his gaze touched.
Chemistry was a bitch, and this little interaction was turning into an eighth-grade science experiment with Brody as my lab partner. Two milliliters of perspiration. A couple of ounces of dog hair, and a beaker full of easy banter. A healthy dose of mutual respect and understanding. Then, the teacher turns her back and you both know you really, really shouldn’t, but you pick up the vial labeled connection, and he picks up the other labeled attraction, and you pour them both into the mix at the same time.
Suddenly the smoke alarms are going off and you have no way to stop the impending explosion that will ensure your mutual destruction.
When I turned back to face the half wall, Brody was leaned over at the waist, forearms rested against the edge, head hanging forward as he mumbled under his breath. The only words I could make out were Jesus Christ and sonofabitch.
I crossed my arms under my chest and watched him have whatever argument he was having with himself as he cussed a blue streak.
He lifted his head and saw me watching him. The expression on his face was somewhere between barely banked heat and amused resignation. Why was it I couldn’t have this man, again? Something about his job and my family and cheating men?
I’d be damned if I could remember, because all I could think about was the rise and fall of his shoulders, the pink of his upturned mouth, and mutually assured destruction.
Standing to his full height, Brody put both palms on the top of the half wall. In a swift move, he jumped while swinging his legs out to his left and sailed over with absolute grace.
I felt my mouth drop open and my cheeks pink. Mercy. Had anything in the history of sexy men ever been sexier than that little leap?
The answer was a resounding no.
“Lily.” Moving slowly, relaxed, he came toward me.
I let him get in my space. That particular distance where one magnet could feel the pull of the other. He smelled like cut grass and rain. Somewhere in my brain, a voice shouted at me not to do this, but I shut it down.
I was allowed my share of bad ideas in my lifetime.
Brody stood there, nostrils flared, shoulders rising and falling a little too rapidly. But he didn’t touch me. It reminded me of that scene in Hitch where Albert is supposed to go ninety percent and wait for the Will Smith version of Allegra to come the other ten.
That.
And I was the “overeager sonofabitch.” On the tips of my toes, I steadied myself with a hand on his waist and stretched up to sip from his lips.
Those full, consuming lips that I’d thought of kissing so often. Wondered what they tasted like.
Mint.
How they felt.
Soft, warm, and damp.
His lower lip was bigger than the upper, the seam where they met the perfect space to cradle my own. The scar at the top of his cupid’s bow. I’d never noticed that before.
His name was a whisper as I pressed my soft body against his hard one. “Brody.”
His absurdly long lashes fluttered, his lips parted. “Huh.”
“Do you want to kiss me back?”
When his eyelids rolled open, the brown had turned so very dark. If I didn’t know better, I could’ve mistaken them for black. Calloused hands found my waist and I was in the air. He spun us both, taking a couple of steps. Then I was on my feet again, a full wall at my back and my front pressed into his.
“Hell yeah I do.” Brody’s voice was raw and so deep.
“Then you should go with that feeling.”
He skated his palms around to my nape. Strong fingers slid into my hair. Brody tilted my head where he wanted it, but his mouth didn’t meet mine right away. His breath fanned over my parted lips instead.
Heat and need pooled in my abdomen, air crackling around us. He held us there, suspended on that precipice as the tension built inside me and his bedroom eyes searched my face. A minute passed, or maybe it was an eternity, but when Brody brushed his mouth against mine, I couldn’t help the moan. He sank into me all warm and wet and perfect. Each glide of his tongue along mine, the way he pulled my lower lip in and nibbled. Brody’s kiss was a flawless dance of push and pull, give and take, chase and retreat.