Page 58 of Floored

And that killed it.

I kept my face even. "Depends on what needs to be done this time of year at the farm. November usually means rotating the crops for grazing, deworming, that sort of thing."

She hummed. "And you had to do that growing up?"

"Unfortunately."

"I like the idea of farmer Jude."

I didn't. I hated it, which was why I left. But still, I found myself smiling at the look on her face. "Do you now?"

She nodded, ducking her head down to kiss either side of my lips. What did my heartbeat sound like when she did that? Was it racing and whooshing and filling the room with the indistinct drumming?

I turned my head to suck at her lips, but she pulled back.

"Are we playing now, love?"

"Maybe," she murmured. "I keep thinking about you tossing me onto a bale of hay and having your way with me."

"Oh please, we can do better than that." My hand came up and gripped her chin so she couldn't evade me. With the edge of my thumb, I pressed down on the center of her luscious mouth, hissing in a breath when she sucked it between her lips. "That kind of mood, eh?"

She grinned—wickedly, in fact— and my thumb fell away. Underneath her, my body was aching and tight, heavy with wanting her.

"I think it's my turn in the driver’s seat." She whipped her shirt over her head, hands diving down to the button on my trousers when it fell onto the floor.

I surged up and took her mouth in a deep kiss, my hands gripping the curve of her hips while she writhed on top of me, chasing the sharp edge of relief that way.

"Thatta girl," I said against her lips when her movements sped up, her face flushed a pretty pink. "Show me what feels good to you."

Slipping my hand between us, I hardly had to do much, and Lia cried out, her chest heaving, her body shuddering in a way that made me crave her dangerously. Never before had I ever wanted a single woman long enough that I was willing to follow the path of how we could make each other feel for a long period. The possible complications had never been worth it.

But as I cupped the back of her head and tilted her at the perfect angle for a searching, searing kiss, something that again, had my heart thrashing dangerously, I knew she'd be the one to make me want to risk it. Risk anything.

Lia pulled away, pupils dilated and lips red from our kisses. "Your turn."

"Is it?"

She slid back until she was on her knees in front of me. My fingers slid between the silk of her hair. This woman, smart and sexy, didn't need me to prove myself to her. She simply wanted.

Nothing about this was empty or transactional. For the first time in my life, it felt meaningful. I almost pulled her up off the floor because I wanted to be with her in this, but that thought was fleeting, erased by the feel of her mouth and the cool strength in her fingers.

I laid my head back on the couch and shut my eyes, tightening my grip on her hair as she helped me chase the same feeling she'd just had.

Helpless and open was how I felt when I finally shouted her name into the quiet of the room. And my hands shook when I tugged her back up onto my lap.

Suddenly, proving my worth to anyone but Lia felt like a fool's errand.

17

LIA

For my second match, I was far more prepared. This time, I had a Shepperton Shorthorns sweatshirt over my thermal leggings, Jude's jersey on underneath as a second layer, a poncho in my small purse in case it rained, a blue-and-white-striped winter hat emblazoned with Shepperton FC along the folded edge with a giant blue poof sticking off the top, and on my cheek was this friggin’ adorable little temporary tattoo that I'd found in a shop down the road from the stadium, the horned logo in bright blue and white.

I walked to my seat, the energy in the building like the best shot of pure, unfettered electricity. Nothing was like the excitement of a live sports event. I'd take it over any concert, any play, any show in the entire world.

A small block of empty seats was located around the one I knew was mine, but the moment I saw the tall man in a solid blue shirt, I knew immediately it was Lewis. He had the same dark hair, the same straight nose, the same broad shoulders. But where Jude's build was muscular, Lewis was husky—the kind of guy who looked like he gave the very best kind of hugs.

I slid down the aisle, smiling at the four old men who stood to allow me to pass.

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