Page 10 of Advantage Love

"Testing your commitment." His voice is rough velvet. "Show me how badly you want this comeback."

"By letting you dominate me? Not happening."

His laugh is low, dangerous. "Sweetheart, if I was trying to dominate you, you wouldn't be talking right now."

Heat floods my body. "You can't shut me up."

"I can think of several ways." His eyes drop to my mouth. "But we're keeping things professional, remember?"

"Professional?" I arch against him slightly, satisfaction coursing through me when his breath hitches. "Is that what this is?"

His hands tighten on the counter. I lean up, letting my lips brush his ear. "I don't think it is anymore."

He moves fast, lifting me onto the counter in one smooth motion. My legs part instinctively as he steps between them, hands gripping my thighs.

"Last chance to back down," he warns.

I curl my fingers into his shirt, pulling him closer. "I never back down."

For a moment, we're frozen there. Our breath mingling, hearts racing, bodies humming with potential energy. Then Luke smiles, slow and wicked.

"Good to know." He steps back abruptly, leaving me cold. "Practice in thirty minutes. Don't be late."

WTF! "You're seriously walking away right now?"

He grabs his coffee, heading for the door. "Consider it motivation. Channel that frustration into your training."

"You're an ass, Mitchell."

"And you're going to thank me when you're holding your next trophy." He pauses in the doorway. "By the way, Wilson wants to meet tomorrow. Be ready."

"Is that an order?"

His grin is pure sin. "Unless you need more forceful motivation?"

I grab an apple from the fruit bowl and throw it at his head. He catches it easily.

"That's my girl." He takes a bite, winks, and disappears upstairs.

I slip off the counter on shaky legs, torn between fury and arousal. This is going to be the longest two months of my life.

Chapter 7: Luke

The hot water pounds against my shoulders as I try to clear my head. This morning's interaction with Avery plays on repeat.

"Keep it professional," I mutter, adjusting the temperature colder. Professional. Right. Like I haven't been thinking about Miami for the past year. Like I haven't memorized every detail.

The sponsorship deals are lining up. The press is eating up our story. Everything's going according to plan. Except for the way my body responds to her presence. The way I can't stop thinking about her.

I shut off the water, grabbing a towel. This is business. A strategic play to advance both our careers. Nothing more, but when I step into my bedroom and find Avery in the doorway, all strategies fly out the window.

She's dressed in fitted workout gear; hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. It's her eyes that stop me cold. They have a hunger that matches my own. Her practice today must have not worked out the frustration from this morning.

"Jenkins." My voice comes out rougher than intended. "Something you need?"

She doesn't answer immediately, gaze trailing over my chest, following a water droplet as it runs down my torso.

"We should talk about this," she says finally.

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