Chasing Kings (18 page)

She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.

“I didn’t know what to do. You… What you did was so beyond what anyone has ever done for me. You
saved
me. And I couldn’t begin to repay you. Literally and figuratively.” He was moving closer again, and Sam stepped in his direction.

“You needed my help.”

“I didn’t ask you to give me
your
money.”

“I lost yours.”

“That was the risk. It was gambling.”

Sam shook her head. “I saw what Julian did to you. It wasn’t a question. I couldn’t let that happen to you again. Or worse.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t think you’d take the money.”

“I wouldn’t have.”

“So I was right.” Now they were only a foot away from each other, and his familiar smell made her want to close the gap and bury her face in his neck. “When did you find out?”

“When I gave Julian the money.”

That hadn’t been the reaction she’d expected. “If you’ve known the whole time, why are you just showing up now?”

Ethan reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and withdrew a thin envelope, which he placed on the counter next to the receipt. His arm brushed against hers, and even though there was no skin-to-skin contact, her head got fuzzy.

“What is this?”

“Ten thousand dollars.”

“Ethan…”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t borrow it from anyone. You don’t have to worry about big dudes showing up hunting for it.” When Sam didn’t laugh at his poor attempt for humor, he looked a bit defeated. “I had this money coming to me already. It just wasn’t going to come through in time to pay Julian. But it’s here in time for me to pay you.”

A wave of relief crashed over her. Now she wouldn’t have to worry about how to pay her balance off. She didn’t need to stay up at night fretting over how many books to sell, or whether she’d need to remortgage the shop. She felt…free.

“Thank you.”

“I didn’t just come to give you the money.”

“No?”

He cleared the distance and put a hand on her waist. The movement sent heat ricocheting through her whole body, and she leaned into him subconsciously until their chests touched and the warmth of him chased away the chill in her limbs.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say more in those texts, Sam, I am.” He rested his cheek against hers so he was speaking directly into her ear. “The man I was when you left wasn’t someone you wanted to talk to though. I needed to make things right by you. I had to deserve you.”

Ethan tilted his head back, and his gaze locked with hers. He’d gone a little hazy, but Sam blinked back tears until he was clear again.

“You’re an idiot,” she said.

Ethan’s brows went up, but instead of explaining herself, she kissed him. Sam held him by the belt loops, pulling him against her so she could feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath. She had no intention of letting him get away again.

“You stupid, silly man,” she added, when they came up for breath. “The money isn’t what matters. I took out the money because of you.
You’re
what mattered.”

“I’m here now. Stupid or not. I think it’s time for a little change of scenery for me. If you’re up for it.”

Did that mean he was here to stay? “You’re staying? What about your job?” Sam was thrilled and terrified all at once.

“If you’ll have me. I’m not sure I’m done with the business forever, but for now I could use a break. Porn was what I was good at it, and I loved what I was doing. But now there’s something else more important to me, and it might be time to try being good at that instead. What do you say?”

She didn’t have to think about her answer. “I’m up for it.”

Ethan cupped her face. “Do you have any idea what you’re getting yourself into?”

Sam looked at him. He was a porn star. His whole working life had been spent having sex with other women. As far as relationship issues went, for most people it would be a deal breaker.

But she’d known from the get-go.

She nodded. “I think so.”

“Good. One of us needs to be. Being in love is foreign territory for me.” He kissed her again, and this time she didn’t feel the least bit silly for the way her heart leapt to hear him say
love
.

Because this time it was for her.

Ethan might have been the master of dirty talk, but a four-letter word had never sounded quite so sweet before.

About the Author

Sierra Dean is a reformed historian. She was born and raised in the Canadian prairies and is allowed annual exit visas in order to continue her quest of steadily conquering the world one city at a time. Making the best of the cold Canadian winters, Sierra indulges in her less global interests: drinking too much tea and writing urban fantasy.

Ever since she was a young girl she has loved the idea of the supernatural coexisting with the mundane. As an adult, however, the idea evolved from the notion of fairies in flower beds, to imagining that the rugged-looking guy at the garage might secretly be a werewolf. She has used her overactive imagination to create her own version of the world, where vampires, werewolves, fairies, gods and monsters all walk among us, and she’ll continue to travel as much as possible until she finds it for real.

Sierra can be reached all over the place, as she’s a little addicted to social networking. Find her on:

Facebook:
www.facebook.com/sierradeanbooks

Website:
www.sierradean.com

E-mail:
[email protected]

Twitter:
@sierradean

Look for these titles by Sierra Dean

Now Available:

Secret McQueen

Something Secret This Way Comes

The Secret Guide to Dating Monsters

A Bloody Good Secret

Secret Santa

Deep Dark Secret

Keeping Secret

Grave Secret

Secret Unleashed

Boys of Summer

Pitch Perfect

Coming Soon:

Secret McQueen

Cold Hard Secret

A Secret to Die For

Boys of Summer

Perfect Catch

She’d be the perfect catch if he could take his eye off the ball.

Pitch Perfect

© 2013 Sierra Dean

Boys of Summer, Book 1

Emmy Kasper knows exactly how lucky she is. In a sport with few opportunities for women at the pro level, she’s just landed her dream job as head athletic trainer for the San Francisco Felons baseball team. Screwing up is not an option.

She’s lost in thought as she pedals to the spring training facility, her mind abuzz with excitement as she rounds a corner—and plows head-on into two runners. The end of her career dances before her eyes when she realizes she’s almost run over the star pitcher.

As Tucker Lloyd watches the flustered Emmy escape with his bandana tied around her skinned knee, the view is a pleasant change from worrying about his flagging fastball. At thirty-six, the tail end of his career is glimmering on the horizon. If he can’t pull something extraordinary out of his ball cap, the new crop of rookies could make this season his last.

The last thing either of them needs is a distraction.

The last thing either of them expects is love.

Warning: Contains a down-on-his-luck pitcher, a good-girl athletic therapist, chemistry that’s out of the park and sexy times that’ll make them round all the bases.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Pitch Perfect:

What was she doing?

Tucker’s fingers caressed the sensitive skin along her jaw and followed the upward curve of her face until he was holding the back of her head, his hand buried in her hair.

He’d told her she could say stop whenever she wanted, but she didn’t want him to stop. She never wanted him to stop, and finally she could let him follow through without the guilt.

Tucker kissed her cheek softly, and she let out a little sigh. He paused for a moment, but when she made no other sound aside from the exhalation, he continued the task at hand.

His delicate kisses moved with practiced slowness from her cheek to the dip where her jaw met her neck, and there he gently licked her skin. The shocking warmth of his tongue on her made a thrill shoot through her, piercing her groin and taking her from mildly aroused to downright horny.

Emmy no longer wondered what she was doing. She wondered instead how she had gone this long without doing it.

She raised her palms to the front of his shirt and clasped two handfuls of the cotton into her fists, tugging him closer. Since he couldn’t physically come nearer to her with her legs in the way, she parted them and made room for his body between her thighs.

The heat of his skin was evident even through their two layers of clothes, and once his body was flush against hers, his kiss moved from her neck to her lips. He seized her mouth in such a way she momentarily questioned if he really was the nice guy he seemed, because no nice man should kiss with the owning, demanding power Tucker was using. The way his lips parted hers and his fingers clawed at her hair was needy and insistent, full of something far more primal than she’d expected from her mild-mannered pitcher.

She was intoxicated by it. Wanting
her
had made him this crazy, and she wanted to know how wild he could be.

Her mouth yielded to his kiss, lips opening so his tongue could meet hers, teasing, playfully nipping with his teeth, deepening the kiss each time she hesitated until she was sure she might melt into a puddle on his floor. He had a robust taste of dark coffee and something else that was masculine and entirely Tucker. She’d kissed him before, but never so much and so deeply. It was as though this embrace were an abyss and he was willing her to fall into it with him.

Releasing her hair, he braced one hand on either side of her against the counter and leaned into her so she was forced to bend backwards, the countertop meeting the small of her back.

“Tucker,” she mumbled when he pulled away briefly. She had no other intention, nothing specific to say, she just wanted to hear how his name sounded now that she had the taste of him all over her lips. Delicious. It all sounded delicious.

This time she closed the gap. Her hands still fisted in his shirt, she dragged him back down to her, reclaiming his mouth and returning the fevered passion with which he’d kissed her. He pushed closer, his crotch seated against hers and the rigid presence of his cock unmistakable along her inner thigh.

Emmy wanted to say his name again, as an invitation or a call to arms, but her tongue was too tied up with his to make time for words. He growled into her mouth when she arched her hips towards him, and in response she let a moan rumble in her throat.

She wasn’t going to say no, and if he was waiting for her to stop this, he had another thing coming. It had been months since she’d last had sex—yet another sign things with her and Simon had shifted gears into the platonic—and she’d been denying herself Tucker all that time.

To let him know what she was thinking, she pulled back abruptly from the kiss and looked him in the eyes. His cheeks were flushed, and the skin around his mouth was red from their rough kisses. She was willing to bet his morning stubble had done a number on her skin, but she didn’t care. None of it mattered except for getting him out of his stupid pajama pants and getting them both back into those beautiful cotton sheets.

“Yes,” she said breathlessly, trying to remember the last time a kiss had made her dizzy with need. To drive home her words, she let go of his shirt and grabbed his ass with both hands, tugging him so close they both gasped. “
Yes
.” This time there was a growl to the word.

“Okay.” He stepped back and pulled her to her feet so quickly she stumbled. But he was there, strong and sure, holding her to him. He smelled fabulous for someone who’d just woken up. Maybe they were a good pheromone match, but to Emmy he smelled like fresh pepper and cotton, and it was a glorious combination. He made her head swim with desire, and her usually too-busy brain was, for once, quiet and focused.

Tucker explored her body, running his hands over her T-shirt until he found the hem, then the first shock of real skin-to-skin contact sent Emmy reeling. His big hands were warm, and though his fingertips were rough and calloused from years of pitching, his touch was light and sensitive. Everywhere his fingers traveled a spark of electricity followed, igniting a desire within in her that had long lain dormant. When he lifted her shirt, she didn’t protest, although she’d never been disrobed in a kitchen before.

When her top was off, she didn’t feel any of the painful awareness of her body she had with other lovers. She’d often felt like she was being assessed and catalogued by other men.
Great body, decent boobs.
Or,
short legs, too much ass.