Crossing the Line(7)

Problem was, did I want it? I'd lost the hunger lately. But if I couldn't make it in tennis, what other options did I have?

"Tough question?"

I shook my head. "Just not sure how to answer it anymore."

The spark was back in her eyes, as if she found me infinitely fascinating. "I thought the slams were the ultimate dream of every tennis jock?"

I pointed at my clothes. "Thought we'd already established I'm not your average jock."

"No, you're not," she said so softly I barely heard her. "It's why I'm still here talking to you and not back in my villa with Liam or Chris."

I laughed. "You know I'll think less of you if you have Hemsworth cardboard cut-outs?"

She swiped at her brow. "Phew, your opinion of me is safe. I meant DVDs."

I liked how she answered me back. It made her more interesting. "So is it the muscles, the blue eyes, the height or the accent that has you hooked?"

"All of the above." She mocked a little swoon.

I leaned closer, enjoying the way her lips parted and her breathing became shallower. "I have all those attributes, but I don't see you swooning over me."

I expected her to step away. To elbow me.

Instead, she turned her head so our lips were inches apart. "The night is young, who knows what may happen later?"

I held my breath, reigning in the urge to kiss her. Not from some misplaced chivalry but because this was the first time in a long time I'd actually interacted with a girl on a level that didn't include a make-out session, a condom and a quick goodbye.

I may not kiss her but that didn't mean I couldn't flirt a little. "Is that a promise?"

Her mouth kicked up into a naughty smile that made me regret my impulse not to kiss her. "Only if you promise to catch me when I swoon."

"Deal." I winked and she groaned.

"Don't do the wink thing," she said. "Jocks do that all the time and think it's cool."

"Bet you wouldn't complain if the Hemsworths did it."

She poked me in the chest and swear I felt that brief contact all the way down to my soles. "The way you keep harping, I think you've got a thing for them too."

I held up my hands, enjoying our banter. "Nothing wrong with admiring a guy's craft and they're good actors."

Wondering how far I could push her, I lowered my tone. "Do you need proof I'm into girls and not guys?"

Her eyes widened and I glimpsed a beguiling mix of fear and anticipation.

Damn, it would be fun to make this good girl bad, even for a few hours.

"What did you have in mind?" she said, her gaze fixing on my mouth before sliding up to meet my eyes again.

"Babe, you don't want to know."

I threw it out there, curious to see what she'd do. I knew what I wanted her to do. Jump me, wrap those long bare legs around my waist, and ride me until dawn.

"What if I do?" Her tongue flicked out to moisten her lips and it almost undid my resolution to stay hands off.

I needed to cool this down fast, before flirting became fucking.

"You don't strike me as the one night stand type," I said, deliberately easing away and putting some distance between us.

"Now who's judging who?" she spat, her shoulders rigid with anger. "You don't have a clue what I want."

If this was one of those cartoons I used to love watching with Mum when I was a kid, Mia would have steam shooting out her ears, she looked that riled. Guess I touched a sore spot. Which made me wonder …

"You're a virgin?"

"Hell no!" She crossed her arms and glowered in a fair imitation of one. "I just want … um, I want … uh, crap." She shook her head and turned away. "Forget it."

I should. But I didn't like seeing her revert to uptight so I asked the one question I shouldn't.

"What do you want?"

When she didn't answer, I grabbed her arm and gently tugged her to face me again. "Tell me."

She dragged her gaze from my chest, which she'd been studying with intent, to finally look at me. "I want to cut loose."

She sounded so forlorn I wanted to hug her. But if Mia ended up in my arms I wouldn't be able to stop at comforting.

"By graffiti-ing the club house? By carving your initials into the grass courts with a lawn mower? By unstringing all the rackets—”

"By having sex with you," she said, sounding soft and uncertain and embarrassed.

"Fuck me," slipped out before I had a second to come up with a more suitable response.

Her smile wobbled. "That's what I was hoping for."

I shook my head. "I didn't mean it like that." I dragged my hand through my hair. "You just threw me, that's all."

"Good, because that's how you've made me feel since the minute we started talking." She drew in a deep breath and huffed it out. "Look, I never do this kind of thing."