Night Heat (13 page)

J
ocelyn drew a breath, leaned in the doorway and stared at Bas. She guessed she should have been grateful that a game of pinball was all he had in mind but still…It wasn't helping matters that since meeting him and sharing two kisses, her body had become somewhat treacherous whenever he was around.

Her system automatically went on overload and it took everything she could muster to retain the common sense she was born with and had kept intact over the years. But another part of her being reminded her that she'd been celibate for a very long time…ever since senior year in college over six years
ago. Why let the explosive spontaneous combustion she felt with Bas go to waste?

Because you're too sensible and dignified to play the games men want to play,
she assured herself immediately. Although she was single, mature and unattached, with basic human urges like the next person, that didn't mean she was into casual sex. When the time came for a man to touch her again, by golly it would mean something and not be an appeasement of curiosity like the last time, which had left her totally disappointed.

“So you want to play pinball?” she finally asked, cocking her brow. “Didn't you learn anything from our last game?”

He flashed a quick grin. “Oh yeah, I learned a lot. I know not to let my guard down again.”

“Is that what happened?”

“Yes. I concentrated more on you than the game.”

She hadn't expected him to admit that. “So what's your game plan this time?”

“Do you really expect me to tell you?”

She chuckled. “No, but I thought it wouldn't hurt to ask.” She stepped aside. “Come on in and let the game begin.”

 

An hour or so later Jocelyn glanced over at Bas and narrowed her eyes. He was leading by over one hundred thousand points and she was the one who
was finding it hard to concentrate on the game. Frustration began to surface. It wasn't that she didn't like losing; she just didn't like the reason she was losing—her inability to focus.

“Winning this rematch means a lot to you, doesn't it?” she finally asked when he scored once again.

He grinned over at her. “Worried about losing?”

“No. But it does seem like you're deliberately dragging this game out.”

“While staying ahead in points.”

“For the moment, yes.”

“Um, I'm just consolidating my shots and economizing my ball time,” he said. “A strategy that works best for me.”

“You're working too hard as usual,” she said coming to stand close to him, but not close enough to mess with his concentration. “All I do is focus on the shots I can hit consistently and patiently repeat them. In a game of pinball you can never lose control.”

“Or concentration, so please step back, Jocelyn. Your perfume is getting to me.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.”

“In what way?”

His eyes flashed to hers. “I don't think you really want to know.”

Jocelyn raised an arched brow. Did she or didn't she? She was pulled out of her thoughts by his
muttered curse. He hadn't used his flippers fast enough and it was now her turn.

“Move over Steele. Time for me to recoup.”

Deciding not to crowd her, Bas took the chair a few feet away and watched her in action. He liked seeing the way her eyes sparkled with the feel of victory and the way she licked her lips each time she deployed a ball. Then there was that simple turn of her head, the smile that tilted her lips whenever she hit a shot that made the machine flash.

And last but definitely not least was the way she leaned her body just so to the machine, breasts perked, hips aligned at an angle that had heat drumming through him. Even with her trying to best him at this game, he detected a gracefulness in the ease in which she was attempting to do so. The woman had style, something he noted even when she was holding a hammer, saw or a drill.

She had taste. And she tasted good.

He rubbed a hand over his face wishing he hadn't thought about her taste.

When the machine flashed that the game was over, he barely heard her unladylike curse, which let him know he had won this go-round.

“Want to do another game?”

He smiled. “No, we agreed on five and I won four of the five, which means I'm on top of you this time.”

Although Jocelyn knew what he meant by those
words, her mind suddenly conjured up something else and heat clawed viciously at the lower part of her stomach. She could just imagine him naked and on top of her beneath silken sheets. “Okay, so now I want a rematch,” she said, needing to get her mind back on track and wondering how she had allowed it to veer into such an outlandish fantasy in the first place.

“I'll think about it.”

Her eyes flamed. “What do you mean you'll think about it?”

He stood and slowly walked in front of her. “Just what I said.” He smiled. “Now who's the sore loser?”

“I'm not a sore loser,” she denied.

“Then why are you mad?”

“I'm not mad.”

“If not, you're awfully close,” he said in a husky tone.

He reached out and took her hand in his, letting his fingers run across her wrist to feel her pulse. “Those are anger beats.”

“They're not,” she said, refusing to let the feel of his finger on her wrist unnerve her, stoke a desire she didn't want to acknowledge.

“And why are your eyes getting so dark if you aren't mad?” he asked in an even deeper tone of voice.

“They aren't getting dark.”

“Yes, they are and getting even darker as we speak.” The hand that wasn't stroking her wrist
reached up and framed her face. “And why are your lips trembling if you aren't mad?”

She frowned. “You're seeing things.”

He leaned in a little closer and let a single fingertip trace a path down to the base of her throat. “No, Jocelyn. I'm feeling things and I think it's time you felt them, too.”

Suddenly, the air around them seemed to thicken as he leaned closer and lowered his mouth to hers. The moment their lips touched, lust of an intensity Jocelyn had never known flamed to life, and everything inside her, every cell, every pore, quivered with totally unique and unexpected pleasure.

When his tongue plundered her mouth, she felt her knees slipping and her nipples tingling against her blouse. Just as before, his tongue was in control, taking, giving and sharing. It was the most conducive pleasure mechanism she had ever felt, and with each and every stroke it was hitting its mark. She was beginning to feel drunk, intoxicated, just plain loose. He smelled good. The scent of him was going straight to her head and the taste of him was getting absorbed in areas she'd rather not think about. This kiss was different from the others, though. It was slow, deep, provoking. And overwhelming. Each time he mated his tongue with hers, captured it, sucked on it, she heard herself moan.

Reluctantly Bas broke the kiss, inhaled deeply
before drawing her closer to him. He needed that. He needed her. He wanted to touch her a little while longer, let his hands skim slowly across her back. Apparently she felt at ease in letting him do so because she stood still, wrapped in his arms, in his heat.

Moments later, she pulled back, angled her head and gazed up at him and smiled slowly. Her eyes were still dark, her lips moist from his kiss. “If you're trying to make me forget that I want a rematch, forget it.”

He released a soft chuckle and leaned down to let his lips brush against hers again, needing the taste, the feel, the touch. “Then I'm going to have to perfect my technique.”

She doubted he could perfect it any more, but she wouldn't tell him that. “You can try.”

“And I will.” Bas smiled. He liked the art of seduction as much as the next guy, although he hadn't had to contemplate a plan in quite a while. They weren't talking about pinball anymore but something else, and they both knew it.

“Don't consider it, Bas,” she warned, as if reading his thoughts. “We'll drive each other crazy. I like enjoying life, having fun. You're determined to work yourself to death.”

He shook his head. “Hey, I've loosened up some.”

She chuckled. “So I see, but you need to do it even more. Just think of all the fun you're missing.”

He gazed at her for a moment. He had enjoyed the workout at the gym with Reese the other day. He had definitely relieved a lot of stress. And going fishing this past weekend had been great, and playing pinball tonight had been just what he'd needed. But nothing could compare to kissing her. That had been like putting the icing on the cake. An idea suddenly popped into his mind.

“You want to show me how to have fun?”

He could tell his question surprised her, and he watched as she lifted a brow. “Not sure that I can.”

He leaned closer to her and let his lips brush against her moist ones again. “Don't you want to try?” he asked, nibbling on her neck. “Unless you don't think you can handle me.” He knew that would be a challenge she couldn't let slide.

“Oh, I can handle you, Sebastian Steele.”

“Prove it,” he whispered in her ear. “Teach me how to have fun, Jocelyn.”

A deep, gentle trembling in the pit of her stomach answered before her lips could. “Be careful what you ask for Bas…but since you
did
ask, I'm going to take you on.” She took a step back. “The first thing you have to do is stop work every day at five o' clock.”

He looked at her as though she had lost her mind. “Five o'clock?”

“Yes.”

He thought again about the time he'd spent at the gym. He could do that a couple of days a week in the afternoons. No big deal. “All right.”

A frown drew Jocelyn's brows together. He was being too agreeable and she was wondering what was going through his mind. “And you can't arrive at the office before nine in the morning,” she decided to add just to cover all her bases.

She saw the defiance that sparked his eyes and grinned in spite of herself. He had only agreed to quit work at five because he'd intended to arrive at some ungodly hour every morning. She could tell he didn't like that she was one step ahead of him.

“And next weekend, there's a jazz festival in Memphis. You want to go have fun?” she asked, deciding to make him see that she meant business.

He shrugged. “Sure.” And then he asked, “When do I get to come up with some of our fun activities?” A gleam shone in the depths of his eyes. “I think we should take turns coming up with stuff.”

She nodded, thinking that would be only fair, but of course she would monitor the stuff he came up with. She knew men had a tendency to take advantage of what they perceived as a golden opportunity. “I don't have a problem with that. Do you have something in mind?”

He smiled as he grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair and slipped his arms in the sleeves. His
gaze held hers when he said, “Yes, I have a few ideas.”

She lifted a brow. “Should I be worried?”

He chuckled. “Of course not. You're going to have to trust me like I'm going to trust you.” He leaned over and kissed her again, slow, thorough, and as if he desperately needed the memory.

“Come walk me to the door,” he whispered and she shivered when his tongue snaked out and trailed a wet path from her lips to an area beneath her ear.

Jocelyn could barely walk up the steps on unsteady legs and knew that after Bas left it would take the rest of the night to recover from his visit.

 

“So, I take it Sebastian Steele found you last night.”

Jocelyn lifted her eyebrows and gazed across the breakfast table at her sister. Jocelyn had arrived at her father's home a little more than thirty minutes ago to find Leah preparing breakfast. “What made you think he was looking for me?”

Leah smiled. “Because he came here first and then I directed him to your place. He's a cutie.”

“Yes, he is,” Jocelyn muttered and went back to eating her meal.

Amused, Leah watched her sister. She knew Jocelyn wouldn't volunteer any information so she decided to go ahead and pick it out of her. “So, are the two of you an item?”

The thought of that made Jocelyn choke on her toast and she quickly grabbed her glass of juice and took a gulp. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

Leah shrugged. “The obvious. He's good-looking and so are you. He's unattached and so are you. He's—”

“What makes you think he's unattached?” Jocelyn asked, setting down her juice glass.

Leah waved her left hand. “No ring. That's a sure sign.”

“But not a concrete one.”

Leah's eyes lifted. “You think he's married?”

“No, I don't think he's married.”