"What are you talking about?"
She lifted her hand and tugged on the offending digits. "Touch me again like that and you'll need to figure out how to play football with fewer fingers."
"Oooo, who's dangerous now?"
Her eyes narrowed, then her lips curled up at the corners. "It's not a good idea to piss off the person who's working in such close proximity to your most sensitive … parts."
"Now we're talking." If only she knew what she was doing to my most sensitive parts right now. This side of her was sure to be feisty and fun loving. This was the girl I wanted to come out and play. My dick liked the idea too. "Tell me more."
"I should have known you'd be a dog with a bone with a suggestion like that."
"Something tells me you'd like it … making me pay for getting you all worked up."
"Getting me worked up?" She asked in a voice an octave higher than normal. She sounded angry. I couldn't wait to hear what she'd spit out next. "You're the one who had no problem stripping just so I could see your boner."
Oh yeah. We were getting somewhere, all right. I gave her a wink. "That was no boner, babe. That was resting phase. Just wait till you see it when I get all excited. I might do a little more than distract you while you work on me."
"Keep dreaming."
"You'd look good in leather while you're making me pay, by the way."
"That's enough, Evan. Do you ever stop with the innuendo?"
"Only if it's not working."
"Does it look like it's working on me?"
"Do you want the nice answer, or the truth?"
She let go of me when I made it to the side of the bed, but she didn't move away. I was so tempted to get my hands around her waist and deposit her on the bed with me, but that would cross a line even I wouldn't attempt. I just stood there and met her gaze across the foot of space between us now. Why didn't she leave?
Oh right. I was standing between her and the side door. Finally breaking from my stare, she took a side step and began to squeeze past me.
"I have my own ways to check, you know?" I informed her. "Want me to show you how?"
Samantha stopped short beside me. A scant few inches separated us where her shoulders met my bicep. She pulled a strand of her hair behind her ear before bending over to pick up her box of things. When she straightened up, I couldn't resist anymore. I leaned closer, noticing the lingering fruity citrus scent of her body wash or shampoo that had been curling up into my nose since she'd walked in. "You smell amazing."
She hitched in a breath, clearly affected by me and not quite ready to escape or fight it. I leaned in even closer and inhaled deeply. Our bodies were so close, I reached a hand to her chin, drifting closer until our lips were inches apart. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she moaned, swaying into me. That was permission enough for me to make contact and brush my lips against hers, and the next second, I slid my hand to the back of her head and kissed her hard. Her hands were busy holding the plastic container, but every other part of her body melded into me. She parted her lips when my tongue swiped over them, giving me leeway to explore and taste her. Just as I ran my hand up into her hair to deepen into the kiss, she pulled away, breathing heavily.
"You taste amazing too," I said without thinking.
"That should not have happened, Evan."
"Sorry, but I disagree."
"I … I have to go."
"Wait."
Breathless, Samantha growled out, "Don't ever try that again." She stormed toward the door, fumbling with the knob until she realized she needed to put her stuff down to unlock it.
"That's one way to make an exit," I mused.
"Stop talking." She was not a happy camper. "As for what you did during today's session … lay off the crazy stunts, okay?"
"They're not stunts. That was a kiss. A damn good one, too."
"And earlier?"
"That's called porn."
"What about before that? Stripping down like some … "
"Tease?" I said for her. "You liked it, didn't you?"
"Christ!" Samantha opened the door, picked up her things and started making her way out. "Try that again and you'll see how fast I can get reassigned." She stepped through the doorway in a huff. "I'll see you tomorrow. For next week, we'll meet starting on Monday at two. At the center."
"Got it."
"I'll remind you tomorrow. See you then."
"Bye Samantha."
9
Samantha
I. Was. Exasperated.
That session with Evan was wrong on every imaginable level.
He was incorrigible.
I was not much better.
Why did I stand there and let that happen? From the second I picked up my things and made to leave, I should have bolted. Instead, I froze like a deer in the headlights, captivated by the way the afternoon light cast shadows across his face and brightened the flecks of gold in his eyes. Dammit, he had a horrendous reputation, but that didn't stop me from staring into them. That scandalous way he gazed down my body and then back up again should have been appalling to me, but God, it was not.
I tried to remember he had probably perfected this predatory charm that oozed out of his skin, because when I'd moved past him to leave, it took a hold of me. He didn't have to touch me to rope me in. All that heat and God knows whatever else radiated from his body and into mine, until I was burning up with a fire that spread outward from my core and bloomed through every part of me.
And then that kiss.
The brush of his mouth on mine made me ache in places I didn't think existed. When he parted my lips and his hand reached up to my neck, it melted any resistance I might have had left over. He stole every weak breath I took while our tongues danced. If it weren't for the plastic tub I'd been holding one to, I was sure my hands would have gripped onto his back or grasped his hair to keep going. It was the sensation of that container slowly sipping out of my hands that woke me up real fast, a reminder that I was supposed to working here, not succumbing to Evan's powerful draw. That's when I snapped out of it, and forcefully wrenched my body and mind back to reality. I got the hell out of there, finally fighting the desire to press up against him.
He must have planned the whole thing. Stripping down to his underwear so I could see his manhood, and geez, that porn flick crap. I didn't need my day ruined by seeing some naked porn star chick being screwed by a guy with a gigantic dick while she gave head to some other guy with an equally massive schlong. In those thirty seconds, the threesome did the nasty, and the guy with his dick in the girl's mouth pulled back just so he could jerk off and come in her face, all while she took it from the other guy.
And Evan wondered why I had averted my eyes? Not that it didn't turn me on, because I'd be lying if I said it didn't. Not to mention gazing down at his more than average-sized member while I tried to work. I just hoped he was too busy being an ass to notice the heat rise to my cheeks, and the way breathing in air took that much extra effort. Thinking about it again, I was sure he noticed. Why else would he have the nerve to kiss me? Evan was taking things to a new low. He'd pulled out all the stops to rattle my cage.
And I took the bait.
It was working-in more ways than one.
"How's it going?" Dr. Jeffries poked his head into the athletic training center supply room as I sanitized the extra wedges and bolsters I'd brought back from Evan's place.
"It's going, Professor Jeffries."
"That bad?"
After his threat about making it so I couldn't graduate because of my attitude, I'd promised myself I wouldn't complain about this assignment anymore. I kept my frustration to myself, even though what I wanted to say was it was worse than I imagined, and I was damn close to driving a red hot poker into my own eye sockets just so I wouldn't have to see him again.
"I'll make it through. Not to worry."
He leaned against the door frame, looking at me closely. "That's the spirit. How's Evan doing?"
"He wants to be off the injured list as quickly as possible."
"Can you blame him?"
"No. I understand his reasons."
He smiled and nodded. "Good, because this kid's special. We all know he has a bit of an attitude, but Evan Marshall's been working for this his entire life. The NFL draft is everything to some of these kids. Evan's family is well off, but because they're from a small town, the game is everything … to them and his neighbors and probably that entire community. No matter where a football player goes in a small town, they're asked about the next game, or the next season. All the time. Non-stop. He's expected to get drafted by the NFL. Think of it this way. You've been working to land a spot on the baseball team since you started college. He's been working to get to the NFL since he was in elementary school … or even earlier."