I’m not buying his act.

I slide lower down the rope, getting about halfway and feeling confident I can do this, when it jerks again and I bounce up and down. He smiles widely and I let him know what’s about to happen. “I swear you’re going to pay for this!”

He’s a dead man walking. I continue to slide until I reach the end, where I promptly let go and fall on my ass. Awesome. That’s going to leave a mark.

Running to the finish line, I hear his throaty laugh behind me as he claps his hands. “You did it!” he yells excitedly, moving fast in my direction.

My hands are on my knees as I gasp for air, trying to catch my breath from running and hurling myself all over this stupid course. People do this for fun? He moves toward me and picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder. I gasp and squeak, “Jackson! Put me down!”

He lets out a chuckle while carrying me over to a bench near the starting line. His voice is happy. “Nope. You need to sit and see how it’s really done. Time to watch the master.” He plops me down and hands me his watch. I stare up at him as I realize I get to watch him run it now.

“Master? What if my time is better?”

He laughs and quickly recovers. “Should we bet?”

“Are you sure you want to chance it?” I smile, goading him.

Jackson has a huge grin on his face as he stands in front of me, blocking the sun with his muscular body. “If I win, you have to have dinner with me in New York.”

“But if I win, you owe me a spa day and a new pair of jeans.”

Jackson smirks as if this is the easiest bet he’s ever made. “Deal. This is going to be a walk in the park.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

He chuckles and grabs my hand holding the watch. “Okay, that button on the right is the timer. When I say go, you press it. Got it?” He smiles as I nod in agreement. Good thing he missed my finger twitch when I pressed it a moment ago.

“Oh, Jackson?” I ask innocently.

“Yes?”

I casually lift my shoulders and press my chest out to stretch my back, taking an agonizingly slow time with each movement. His jaw tics as he watches me roll my neck. I let out a gentle breath and drop my voice to a seductive whisper. “Did you enjoy the show?” My teeth bite on my bottom lip and I watch every moment, taking great pleasure in the way his eyes drop to my mouth and his Adam’s apple bobs.

He takes a deep breath and rips his shirt off, stopping whatever game I was attempting to play. Holy f**king shit. He’s standing completely still, allowing me to take him in. Each muscle in his solid body is toned and perfect. My mouth goes completely dry as I stare at his taut chest and the large tattoo covering the left side of it. It’s a tribal sun that takes up the entire space over his heart. Greedily, my eyes graze lower to his rippled abs, all the way down to my favorite part of a man—the deep V. I find my way back up to his blazing eyes—the look he gives me cements me to my seat.

He takes three long strides and places his hands on the back of the bench on each side of me, staring intently into my eyes. I feel naked, the intensity of his gaze stripping me and baring my soul. I’ve never felt so vulnerable yet so desired at the same time. His breathing is labored and I’m completely still. Neither of us moves as my eyes start to drift, and then he makes a deep noise in his throat. My gaze quickly reverts to his turquoise eyes as they probe for something. Between the running, adrenaline, and the intensity that is Jackson I start to get dizzy.

He leans in and drops his head to the side of my neck, taking two deep breaths. I can feel the tension, the turmoil rolling through his body. I don’t know what he’s fighting. He runs his nose up my throat and my eyes roll back as I moan. “Keep making those noises and I’m going to get the wrong idea.”

Abruptly, he’s gone. He’s at the start line looking back at me. “Ready for your show, Catherine?”

So damn sure of himself, isn’t he? Leaning back, he lifts his arms over his head, which causes his shorts to drop a tiny bit. My eyes follow the indentation of his h*ps down to the tiny trail that leads to all things happy. My lips part and my breathing becomes erratic. I’m incredibly turned on right now. He gets in the ready position, waiting for me to tell him to go. I smile inwardly knowing that he’s added about three minutes on to his time with his little seduction game. I lift the watch and yell, “Go!”

Nothing could have prepared me for watching Jackson run the course. Not only does he have a large tattoo on his front, he has one on his shoulder as well. It’s black and looks like the skeleton of a frog. His body moves as if he was made for this—each leap graceful and precise, every step calculated. His body moves, his muscles tighten, and my mouth waters at the sight of him. There’s no time for me to return the favor of climbing to the top of the ginormous building, so I decide to rush over to the bottom of the steps. Jackson still has a little time before he makes it over there, although with the way he’s moving, it may be a lot faster than I’m anticipating. I get there before him and try to climb a couple flights, but the five-alarm fire burning in my legs prevents me from getting too far. I sit on the steps instead, trying to appear casual as Jackson starts to climb.

I lie across the step and rest my hand on my propped-up knee. He gets to my step and stops briefly, letting out a throaty laugh. “Nice try, babe.” He leaps over me and laughs the rest of the way up.

I turn and yell in his direction, “Hey! Not fair!”

I look up and see him descending a rope faster than I thought humanly possible. Somehow when he reaches the bottom, he’s not even winded. He sprints to the end, finishing without breaking a sweat. Jesus!

He yells back, “Done! Press stop!” as I gingerly walk to him, trying to lessen the throbbing in my muscles. Jackson heads toward me with a huge smile on his face as I press the button.

I place the watch in my back pocket. He’s not getting it until I know my time. “So, Jackson, you tell me my time and I’ll tell you yours. Then we can see who the winner is.” I raise my eyebrow, smiling coyly.

He reaches forward and pulls me against him. “First, dinner. I’ll tell you then.”

“What?” I huff. “No! I want to know now.” I purse my lips and push back from him.

“Too bad. If you want it, you have to have dinner with me. Besides, you owe me anyway.”

“Ugh! You don’t fight fair.” He drives me insane. On the other hand, I haven’t had this much fun since … I can’t even remember. He makes me laugh and feel special. There are worse ways to spend my evening than dinner with an extremely sexy and agile and funny and powerful and … Oh man. This is bad. He’s all of those things, but he’s also my client. Still, he doesn’t seem to be concerned with that little fact.

His low voice halts my mental debate. “Stop overthinking. It’s dinner—we can even talk business. Plus, don’t you want to know how bad you lost and if you get your spa day?”

I grab the watch, taking a picture of his final time with my phone. I clear the display and then hand it back to him. His time was outrageously long—that makes me smile. And now that I have the proof in my phone, there’s no way he can deny it. “Fine. Dinner, but we talk about work. Then I’ll show you just how bad you lost.” I grin, walking toward the car.