Page 67 of Love Game

It took a half second for the full impact of the taunt to sink in. The metamorphosis of his expression was priceless. So was the sheepish but delighted smile he settled on at last.

“Day-yum,” he drawled. “If that’s not a thought to keep a man up at night, I don’t know what is.”

Kate grabbed his belt buckle and pulled him a little closer, all the while staring him straight in the eye. “Stop being a pig. Besides, she’s not my type.”

He blushed as he rubbed his thumb along the base of her skull. “Sorry, I know that was bad, but…can’t I keep it? Just for…inspiration.”

“You’re playing with fire, Coach,” she warned.

“Never did develop a healthy fear of it.” He lifted a shoulder in a helpless shrug. “Now, with you, I think I might be turning into a damn pyromaniac.”

She wet her lips, then let her hand fall away from his waistband. “I saw Mike up there too. I assume he was warning you off.”

“He tried.”

“Danny—”

“He failed.”

The stark ferocity of his assertion stopped her. Whatever she was about to say crumbled to dust on her tongue. She stared hard at him, searching for a crack she might slip through to inject a little reason, but all she saw was the impenetrable granite of sheer determination. Still, she was a champion, and champions never stop. Even when faced with seemingly insurmountable odds.

“He’s going to fire you.”

“No, he’s not.”

His rapid response startled her. She squinted at him, trying to read whatever convoluted thoughts had led him to his new certainty. “How do you know?”

“I know.”

A slow smile curved his mouth. Riding the wave of impulse that seemed to swell whenever this man was too near, she rose up and pressed her lips to it. The smile blossomed and spread as she moved to give the other side of his mouth equal playing time. She loved kissing him happy. Danny’s smiles had a taste all their own, spice and heat, as if each bump of his lips served as a thermostat. Oh, she loved his other kisses too. The ones rich and intense as dark chocolate. Those quick pecks that were savory but also achingly sweet. She particularly relished the moments when his innate coordination failed and he got a little sloppy.

She angled her mouth to fit his, then parted her lips enough to make him throb as much as she did. His answering groan was gratifying, so she parted them just a teensy bit more. His other hand came to rest on her hip. She was about to break the kiss when he stepped closer. His knee banged the front of the desk, but it didn’t seem to faze him. He kissed her slow and soft. Languid nips and brushes that made her squirm. His hand tightened on her hip. She knew she should do the sensible thing and pull back, but he yanked her to the edge of the desk, pressing her firmly against the hardness beneath his fly as his tongue swept into her mouth. And oh, it felt good.

Their kisses went on and on. Deep, drugging, and dangerously tempting, each swirl of his tongue made her ache in places that had no business aching in this place where she did business. She grasped at the last straw of sanity.

“Danny,” she gasped when he relinquished her mouth at last.

His fingers curled around the elastic waistband of her pants. She tried to protest, but his lips found the pulse in her throat, and all she managed was a strangled moan. She closed her eyes as his hand traveled from her nape to her breast.

“We can’t…not here.”

He pinched the hardened tip of her nipple, sending pain-laced pleasure coursing through her like a shot of adrenaline.

“We’re… We might… Anyone.”

He let go of her breast, and every objection she meant to voice melted away in a burst of white-hot desire. “God yes.”

Chuckling, Danny shoved the rubber tip of her whistle between her lips and crooned, “Shh.”

Her teeth clamped down on the whistle. The rubber ball trapped in the chamber trilled softly as she exhaled her surprise.

“Watch your breathing.” He leaned into her, pressing her back on her desk, forcing her to splay her hands behind her to catch her weight. He tugged her pants over the curve of her hip. “Lift up.”

He uttered the command in a voice so gruff, she obeyed without thought. Papers slid beneath her palms as she leveraged herself up. A proposed endorsement contract for a line of performance-enhancing protein supplements, camp schedules, drafts of the talks she’d be giving to overfed businessmen who considered an elite female athlete something of an anomaly. She smiled when he grappled with the zippers at her ankles.

Her T-shirt flew across the room. He pushed at the wide elastic of her sports bra with frantic hands. It rolled up like a broken blind. He caught a hank of hair and yanked. Her scalp screamed in protest, but she remained silent. The little rubber ball trapped in the whistle vibrated with each exhalation, but she kept it steady. The last thing she wanted was for him to stop. His hands were on her, and she was the sexiest, most desirable woman on earth. Even if she was clad in nothing but a pair of obnoxiously bright sneakers and some no-show socks.

Her fingers sank into his thick hair. The silky softness of the waves slipped through her fingers as he suckled her. The insistent tugs at her breast wound her up tighter than a spring. She inhaled through clamped teeth but carefully let the air seep from her lungs in measured exhalations, afraid she’d elicit another trill from the whistle.

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