Huh. “Okay…” She could go with the creative idea. Anticipation licked through her. “So what’s your favorite move?”
“I have several.” His hands firm on her waist, he turned her like they were dancing, swapping their positions so suddenly she was the one with her back to the door and he was right in front of her.
Several? Of course he did.
He let go of her and braced his hands on the door on either side of her. “I like to be unpredictable.”
“I bet you do,” she whispered. She had no problem maintaining eye contact now. Nadia would be proud of her.
Except it was more than the four seconds. She’d descended into stalker stare. But there was no tearing her gaze from his.
He leaned over her, bending to bring his big body devastatingly close. “What is it you’re after here? To have sex as soon as possible, or to be so alluring you have every guy present hanging on your every word?”
Uh, what other guys were present? There was only one guy in here. Joe. So, duh. With him? Have sex as soon as possible. There was much she could learn from him, right? And it was all about learning…
He stared at her. “Abbi?”
She swallowed.
He lifted a hand and ran a featherlight finger across her lower lip. Abbi’s blood rushed, making her lips full and hot.
His lips quirked. “You’re that hungry?”
His fingers dropped from her mouth, landing firmly on her thigh, swiftly, easily sliding upward, inward.
Abbi sucked in a shocked breath. “We…uh…shouldn’t…” she barely whispered.
“Sure we should…” He pressed in closer to the door, partly turning to rest his shoulder against the wood, but keeping his body angled in toward hers enough to keep her his prisoner.
His willing prisoner, what with his hand working its way up to where she was already wet. Stunned, she watched him, waited. Ached.
“We’re alone,” he pointed out oh-so-not-innocently.
And he was so close. So big. And in an instant she wanted everything.
“You check all the venues for private places?” she asked, trying to stay coherent in spite of the boldness—the brilliance—of his moves.
Oh man, his fingers slid higher, firmer up her thigh. He was gazing so hotly, so deeply into her eyes. He was so damn close, and suddenly so was she. She just had to rock her hips that little bit.
“I know my way around sports facilities,” he said softly, not stopping the skillful slide of his fingers, not lessening his intensity one degree. “There are always small meeting rooms in the corporate entertainment area.”
She wasn’t really listening. She was looking—those eyes, that height, the sheer, overwhelming masculinity of him.
And she was feeling. A firm touch. Bold, knowing, teasing. He stroked her inner thigh. Teased his way higher. She drew in another sharp breath, watched the intense darkness swallow his emerald irises. Beautiful man.
“So we’re…having a meeting?” She swallowed, heat billowing over her. She felt like they were lost in a heated fog, only the two of them.
“We’re having a moment.”
Oh, they were. And she wanted it. She’d been wanting it all day. Succumbing to temptation, to that overwhelming heat, she spread her legs just the slightest, allowing him greater access—fully regretting the trousers. If only she’d gone with a skirt, he could have her panties off already.
But even as he pressed at the uppermost point between her thighs, she closed her legs and clenched on him, imprisoning his hand. This couldn’t happen. Not here. Not now. There were people just on the other side of the door. Thousands of people. And this was Joe Fuller—wanting to touch her?
“So tense. So busy thinking,” he chided. “You really need to relax.”
“Touching me like…that…here isn’t going to help me relax.” She didn’t do this. Didn’t get turned on in a heartbeat. Didn’t want all kinds of wicked without any thought to what might happen later.
“Sure it is.”
Even with the limited room she’d given him to move, he hit her groove with his middle finger and pressed his thumb on her clit. Yeah, even blinded by clothing, the man knew his way around the female form. She shivered as a tremor of pleasure racked her. She looked up and was caught again. Watching her intently, that half smile twisting his lips, he ever so cleverly stroked his fingers. Need jackknifed through her. She felt nothing but the raw desire to open up and allow him in as far as he could go.
He was a man-mountain. Taller than anyone else she’d ever met. And she wanted to hang on and wrap her legs around him. Instead, she curled her fingers into tight, needy fists. This so couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be about to—