Page 7 of Power Play Pursuit

James in a suit is even harder to resist than James with regular clothes. I want to avert my eyes, but I can’t. This is the first time I’ve seen him in a suit in real life. Obviously, I’ve seen that body spray commercial where he spritzes the product over his naked chest—sofake, by the way, because who has an eight pack?—before putting on a suit and racing through the city to protect the woman he loves.

“Is Aaron still up there?” he asks, emerging from the elevator. “He told me he was already at the arena.”

I sway on my feet. “Nope. It’s just Marissa and me.”

“You don’t look okay, Elizabeth.” He reaches out to me, his fingertips grazing my arm before pulling back, his hand balling into a fist. “Tell me.”

His words send tingles to my chest. Both positive tingles and painful ones. No, I’m not okay, but James Adler is the last person who could do anything about it. Still, he is nice to care. Even if it’s probably for the wrong reasons.

I force a bright smile. “I’m fine, really.”

“Okay.” He nods subtly. “So, are you coming to the game tonight?” he asks, a gleam in his eyes.

I nod, clutching my bag of underwear. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Terrific.” His lips twist into a smile. “We’re going to have a great night.”

“See you then,” I say, spinning on my heel to enter the elevator. Unfortunately, he turns unexpectedly in the same direction, knocking me off balance. I roll my ankle and collapse against his absurdly hard chest. Lord help me, James smells like musk and clean cotton.

My bag drops to the floor, but who cares right now? I’m practically inhaling fabric softener heaven.

“Sorry,” he says, steadying me. “You okay?”

“Fine,” I blurt out, trying to ignore the fact that my heart is galloping like a caffeinated racehorse.

“Oh,” James says, his tone playful. “What do we have here?”

I don’t have to lower my eyes to know the full contents of my underwear drawer are now scattered on the floor for the world to see.

But as James and I lock eyes, I suddenly realize I’d trade theentire worldseeing this for James Adler gawking at my underwear.

Heat surges through my body, and I drop to my knees, gathering the skimpy delicates that are now on display.

Do I really own every color possible? It’s like an intimate confetti cannon just exploded in here.

James joins me on the floor, and it only increases the temperature. My shame meter triples when he hands me my blue silk panties.

There’s a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes, but also something else. Something deeper, warmer, but I don’t have time to think about it right now. I have other panties to fry.

How many do I even own? This is anightmare. I flail my arms around, trying to gather as many as I can, but my light-pink lace panties are stuck in the elevator railing.

“Here.” James chuckles softly, his large hand hovering over mine. “Let me.”

I didn’t think it was possible, but I feel the blush deepen on my cheeks. Great. That’s just fantastic.

He tugs on the pair of panties, but it stays firmly stuck. He balls his fist around the fabric, then tries to unhook it with his other hand.

“It’s fine,” I say, my voice higher-pitched than usual. “Just tear it.”

As if I can ever wear that thing again now that it’s been balled in James’ hands. Or on the floor of a public place. Yeah, that too.

“Hold on. Let me try again,” he says, glancing up at me before muffling another chuckle. “It’d be a shame to rip this one. It’s quite—”

“Shut up,” I snap, rolling my eyes, though I’m grateful for his lighthearted teasing. At least it relieves some of the pressure. “I knew you’d never let this go.”

He chokes out a laugh. “Elizabeth, you decided to expose me to what looks like your entire collection of panties. Of course I’m not going to let this go.”

Despite the heat that spreads across my face, a chuckle bursts out of me. “Touché.”