Game On Box Set: Time Out\Her Man Advantage\Face-Off\Body Check Read online

  She was still in her black lacy bra and panties. And his tie…

  No heels.

  Her left ankle was propped on a pillow with an ice pack. Ah, yes. Her oh-so-sexy striptease.

  Mark had taken care of her. While she processed this, he rolled off the bed. She stared at his bare chest and felt the urge to lick him from his Adam’s Apple to those perfect abs. And beyond too, down that faint silky happy trail to his—

  “I’m pretty sure it’s just a sprain, but you need to wrap it.” He nodded to a still plastic-wrapped Ace bandage next to the coffee on the nightstand. “Figured you’d want to shower first.”

  Mouth dry, she nodded and very carefully sat up. He watched her as he reached for his shirt hanging off the back of her chair and shrugged into it. He tucked his shirt in, adjusting himself in the process before fastening his pants.

  She swallowed hard at the intimate moment. “Thanks,” she said. “For bringing me home.”

  He had a faint smile on his face as he studied her expression. “Anytime.”

  “I’m sorry if I was…a handful.”

  A small smile touched his lips. “Like I said. Anytime.”

  With a deep breath, she got out of the bed. She figured he’d turn away and give her a moment of privacy, but he didn’t. He might not sleep with buzzed women, but he had no problem looking. He looked plenty as the sheet fell away.

  “Pretty,” he said, and came close when she winced at the weight on her ankle. Lifting her up, he carried her into the bathroom.

  “I think I can manage from here,” she said.

  “Are you sure? I’m good in the shower.”

  Since he was good at everything, that wasn’t a stretch. But she was definitely not at her best. “I’m sure.”

  With a slow nod, he left her alone.

  Stripping off her bra and panties, she limped to the shower, turned it on, then proceeded to smack her ankle getting in. “Ouch, ouch, ouch, ouch. Dammit.”

  And then suddenly Mark was back, whipping aside the shower curtain, expression concerned. “You okay?”

  Was she? She had no idea. She was standing there, naked, wet. Naked. Lots of things were crowding for space in her brain, and oddly enough, not a one of them was embarrassment. “I’m instigating again,” she whispered, and tugged him into the shower, clothes and all.

  Without missing a beat, as if crazy naked women dragged him into their showers every day, his arms banded around her. His hair, dark brown and silky and drenched, fell over his forehead and nearly into his equally dark eyes. He clearly hadn’t shaved and his jaw was rough with at least a day’s growth. His shirt was so wet as to be sheer, delineating every cut of every muscle on him. And there were a lot of muscles. He looked lethally gorgeous, and was lethally dangerous to her mental health as well, especially since all she could think about was ripping off his clothes to have her merry way with him. “Mark?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m naked.”

  One big, warm hand slid down to her butt and squeezed. The urge to lift her legs around his waist was so shockingly strong, she had to fight to remain still. “I’m naked,” she said again. “And you’re not.”

  “That could be fixed,” he said, volleying the ball into her court, leaving the decision entirely up to her. He waited with the latent, powerful patience of a predator who had its prey cornered.

  “You turned me down last night,” she pointed out, smoothing a palm down his chest, taking in every well-defined muscle before sliding her hands under his shirt. “I’m not sure I could take a second rejection.”

  “Are you still under the influence?”

  “No. Was that your only barrier?”

  His eyes were two fathomless pools of heat. “For now.”

  “Then please,” she whispered, lending her hands to the cause, tugging up his shirt. “Please fix your not-naked status.”

  With quick, smooth grace, he stripped out of his clothes, discarding them in a wet heap on the floor. God, he was so damn gorgeous. And that’s when she knew. Even though she’d made the rules to keep herself from drowning in him, she was in over her head and going down for the count.

  * * *

  MARK STOOD THERE with Rainey in his arms, the water running down them, the air steamy and foggy, unable to believe how good she felt against him. She was looking at his body, and getting off on it—a fact he greatly appreciated because he enjoyed looking at her, too. So much he was currently hard enough to pound nails. “Are you going to instigate again?”

  “I’m thinking about it,” she said, water streaming over her in rivulets. “But for the record, this isn’t about liking each other.”

  He traced the line of her spine down to her ass, slipping his fingers in between her legs, nearly detonating at the wet, creamy heat he found. “Because you don’t. Like me,” he clarified.

  “Right.”

  He ignored the odd pang at that, and tipping her face up to his, he kissed her, kissed her long and deep and wet, until she was clutching at him, making soft little whimpers for more, and he’d damn well lay money down that she liked him now. He had no business caring one way or the other, but suddenly he wanted her to. Very much. “We can work on the like thing,” he said. “We could start small.”

  “Yes, well, there’s nothing small about you.”

  Laughing softly, he went on a little tour, kissing his way down her throat, over her collarbone, to a breast. Her nipples were tight, already hard when he ran his tongue over a puckered tip. “How about this, Rainey? Do you like this?”

  She let out a barely there moan but didn’t answer.

  “Tell me.” Sucking her into his mouth, he teased and kissed, absorbing her sexy whimper, but when she still didn’t speak, he stopped and looked at her.

  Her head was back, eyes closed, water streaming over her, so beautiful she took his breath.

  Unhappy that he’d stopped, she lifted her head.

  “Say it,” he said.

  “I liked that,” she whispered.

  “Good. How about this?” He gently clamped his teeth on her nipples and gave a light tug.

  This ripped a throaty gasp from her and she tightened her fingers in his hair. “Mark—”

  “Yes or no, Rainey?”

  “Yes!”

  “Okay, good, that’s real good. Now let’s see what else you like.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “No, we’re addressing the problem, as you so smartly suggested.” Dropping to his knees, he worked his way down her torso, kissing each rib, dipping his tongue into her belly button, making her squirm. “How about this,” he asked. “Do you like this?”

  When she said nothing, he once again stopped.

  “I liked that!” she gasped, her hips rocking helplessly. “Please, don’t stop.”

  Gripping her hips, he held her still and moved lower, pressing his mouth to her belly, then lower still, hovering right over her mound.

  Above him, she stopped breathing.

  With a smile, he reached up and extricated one of her hands from his hair, placing it against the tile wall at her side so she’d be better balanced.

  “Mark—”

  “And this? Do you like when I do this, Rainey?” He kissed her thigh, her knee.

  “Y-yes,” she whispered shakily. “I like that.”

  He gently kissed that same spot again, running his palm up her belly to graze a breast. “I’m glad.” Carefully, he gripped her foot with the slightly swollen ankle and lifted it to the tub’s ledge, which opened her up to him and gave him a heart-stopping view.

  “Mark—”

  Unable to resist, he leaned in and kissed first one inner thigh, and then the other.

  And then in between.

  “Yes,” she gasped before he’d even asked, making him smile against her as his heart squeezed with a myriad of emotions so strong it shocked him. Affection, warmth, amusement and heat. There was so much heat, he could come from just listening to the sounds she ma