Nice Girls Finish Last. Natalie Anderson

reached two inches forward and took hold of his beautifully tailored, no doubt horrifically expensive, jacket. She lifted her face nearer to his as she confirmed breathlessly, ‘I had my hands on every single one of them.’

      ‘Did you, now?’ He didn’t pull back; in fact he leaned closer. Which was just perfect, because she could smooth her hands on him without him really seeing.

      Her oily, slippery hands.

      ‘You’ve no idea, the excitement …’ She gazed at him, not realising she’d trailed off. His smile had widened, sparkling up his expression, and the effect was frankly mesmerising.

      ‘You know what?’ His voice dropped as he leaned to a mere millimetre away and full out mesmerised her even more. ‘I don’t believe you.’

      She was surprised, and her eyes widened, but she twisted her fingers in the soft, luxurious fabric. ‘I never lie.’ Not now, she’d learned the lesson hard.

      He planted his other hand on the wall beside her. Now she was trapped and the length of his body was a shiver away from the length of hers. Lena was having a time suppressing that shiver. Her breathing spiked as she tried to slow her pulse and pull her brain back from beyond.

      She figured he was a new recruit, or a player from another club visiting. He was tall enough, had the shoulders, not to mention the arrogance….

      ‘So you’ve been kissing all those boys in there?’ he asked, his gaze intent and unwavering.

      She flicked her brows.

      They were nearly nose to nose, his blue-eyed focus still intense, but now blatantly sensual and filled with amusement. It magnified her attraction to him. Bones, muscles, brain—everything melted. His expression was different from anything she’d seen in anyone on the team—despite all the invitations. This guy was so focused, so, so intent on her. She could hardly breathe.

      ‘If you’d really been kissing them,’ he said, ‘I’d see it on your face. But your lipstick is immaculate.’

      ‘Maybe I reapplied.’

      ‘Your lips aren’t swollen, your skin isn’t flushed, your eyes don’t have that gleam.’

      His words stoked the insane reactions occurring within her body—her lower belly had become an inferno and it was almost impossible to remain still. The urge to be exceptionally wicked had to be held in place somehow. Except she didn’t know how. All she knew was that she was answering him back again. ‘I’ve got a quick recovery. It’s necessary, you know, when you take on so many at once. A girl like me has stamina.’

      ‘Oh, you do?’ He sounded pleased. ‘Then one more isn’t going to make much difference, is it?’

      She froze. ‘One more what?’

      Her words may or may not have been audible. Who cared? Because at that moment he moved that shiver closer.

      His lips caught hers on the full, claiming complete possession. She didn’t even think to stop him. For a moment pure shock immobilised her, sending her strength someplace else. She melted, thankful for the wall behind holding her up.

      It had been a hell of a long time between kisses and this was one hell of a kiss. He took total control, first warming her lips with his own, teasing them apart with his tongue, then surging forward and exploring deeper. That brought her back, only not to fight and push him away as she probably should. Oh, no, the only thing she could do was open up and kiss him right back. He was absolute masculinity—a wall of heat, strength and solidity that turned her into a malleable woman who’d bend whichever way he wanted.

      She heard the growl, felt the shift as he moved closer still so his body pinned hers. His hands cupped her face, holding it up to his, and for a few carnally delightful seconds he seduced the soul out of her. But just as she was really getting into it he broke away, angling so he could look hard at her. His blue eyes blazed.

      ‘Now you have the gleam,’ he said, voice thick with satisfaction.

      She gasped and started to blast him with some sarky thing on the tip of her tongue—only, before sound even emerged he swooped back and took her tongue with his own. She growled then. Oh, he was hot. And bold. And delicious.

      She tasted his smile as he switched to a series of soft teasing kisses. His hands slipped to her neck, his fingers stroking downwards, skimming hot sensation over her skin. But her passion ran far deeper than that.

      That formerly locked-up dam spilled more heat, spinning it along her veins until anticipation tingled in every cell. Need spiked. She moved, her muscles all fire-fuelled strength. She shivered and pressed her mouth harder to his, hurtling them back to the bruising, blistering, barely controlled hunger of seconds before.

      She totally forgot about rubbing the oil on his jacket to pay him back for his smug arrogance and out-of-order assumption. Instead all she could think of was having him closer, harder, heavier against her. She clung as urges rampaged through her. Urges she couldn’t suppress. She kissed him—hungry, wild, restless.

       Reckless.

      Her fingers tightened into his jacket, her toes tightened in their shoes, her muscles tightened in her womb. She wanted to clench down on something really hard. And the really hard thing was pushing right against her.

      She couldn’t have broken free even if she’d wanted to. Some violent force bound them, demanding closer intimacy. More furious, more hungry. She devoured the sensations. Devoured him. Blissfully out of control and utterly abandoned to how good it felt.

      Their lips sealed, tongues stroked, locked into a rhythm, deep, rough, outrageously passionate. His hands pressed down her back to shape her waist, and then cupped her bottom, pressing her pelvis harder against his.

      It had been for ever since she’d had a physical release. And she’d never been this turned on by a few saucy sentences and a couple of kisses. But this was so much more than kissing. She moaned into his mouth as the uncontrollable fire turned her reason to ash.

      She was so tension-filled she couldn’t uncurl her fingers, but she pulled her hands apart, jerking his jacket open so she could press her tight, aching breasts against the spectacularly solid wall of his chest. She pulled harder and his jacket slipped partway off his shoulders, half pinning his arms to his sides, but his hands were exactly where she wanted them anyway—gripping her hips, hauling them closer to his in time with every thrust of his tongue.

      A door banged. More noise followed—a sudden volume of voices—men’s voices.

      He released her instantly. Lena crashed back against the wall, hitting cold, hard reality. He stepped up in front of her, his body a barrier so she couldn’t be seen from the doorway, a surprisingly protective move. But she didn’t stop to say thanks. Not when she’d just blown her rep to smithereens.

      Her brain screamed the order. Her body followed it.

      She fled.

      CHAPTER TWO

      FASTER, faster, faster.

      Lena knew exactly how to shortcut through the myriad corridors in the massive complex, so she scurried along them, got to her office, snatched her handbag and was in the ladies’ loo before she could gulp the breath her lungs were bursting for.

      She gasped when she saw her reflection and thanked all the stars she’d got there without seeing anyone. Her lipstick was a mess, her hair mussed, her mouth huge. As for her eyes, her pupils were so massive and dark she looked as if she were on something. Which she was—lust, hormones, the highest of natural highs, and she’d wanted to ride the wave all the way to the top, not be dropped out halfway to heaven….

      Oh, she’d been an idiot.

      She scrubbed her hands but could still smell the baby oil. She held a bunch of tissues under the cold tap and pressed them to her lips. It didn’t cool them a fraction. She debated whether it was better to reapply lipstick or leave it. Went with