Seduce Me

7

Sam ran down the stairs of her apartment and through Wild Cherries, planting herself at the counter as casually as she could, just as Jack walked through the gate and stepped onto the patio.

Calm, she reminded herself. Remain calm. At least it was a cool morning. Usually the thermometer hanging above her head had neared ninety by now, if not more, but today it was only seventy.

And yet, just seeing Jack sent her inner temperature off the chart.

Because of the cooler weather, the café had stolen the beach crowd and was filled with people looking for hot tea and coffee instead of the usual juices and iced tea. Sam knew Lorissa and the two high school kids she'd hired this season could handle the café in her absence.

In fact, Lorissa stood only a few feet away, on the other side of the counter, rag in hand as she wiped it down. She lifted her brow, signaling she'd seen not only Jack's arrival, but Sam's run through the place.

Skurfer was sitting a few tables away with some of his buddies, and by his smirk, he'd seen, too. She grimaced back, but her heart did a backflip as Jack walked through the filled tables directly toward her. He wore a white polo shirt, San Diego Eels sweat pants that buttoned down the outside of his legs, mirrored sunglasses and an unreadable expression.

She sat there on a bar stool, her pulse frantically beating in her ears. Lorissa set two mugs of hot chocolate in front of her. "Careful," she whispered. "You're drooling."

"Yeah, yeah." Sam watched Jack come close and took a deep breath. "Hey," she said, as casually as she could.

"Hey, yourself." A slow smile lit his face, and he shoved the sunglasses to the top of his head. His eyes were smiling, too, and she decided that was a good look on him.

Very good.

He draped his tall frame on the stool next to hers, accepting the drink when she slid it over to him. "Thanks." He took a sip. "It's not as warm today as I'd hoped."

Maybe not, but it was sure hot in here, she thought, watching his Adam's apple slide up and down as he drank.

He reached over, taking her hand, holding it away from her as he looked her over.

She wore a sundress today, the same color as the sea. She knew the thin, wispy material of the dress played peekaboo with the bathing suit she wore beneath it and also knew that she looked quite passable.

The heat in his eyes told her she may have pulled off more than quite passable.

"Another dress over a bathing suit," he said after drinking some more.

"I took the words dunking booth to heart."

"Yeah." He sighed. "I'm hoping she's just messing with me." He stood and, still holding her hand, pulled her to her feet as well.

"I guess we're going to find out."

"Yeah."

Because his smile had faded, hers did as well. "What's the matter, Jack?"

He shook his head, then brought his free hand up to her face to sink into the hair she'd left free and flowing over her shoulders.

Out of the corner of her eye, she knew Lorissa was watching their every move.

"I thought about you all damn week," Jack murmured.

That took her breath. So did the light kiss he dropped on her lips. "Let's go?"

"Yes," she said. Incredibly aware of the interested gazes of the people around them, she couldn't admit that she'd been thinking about him, too.

Every single living second.

"Have fun." Lorissa took their cups away. "Be careful."

They walked to the parking lot. Jack opened the passenger door for her, but instead of sliding in, she looked up into his eyes. "I thought of you, too." She shut the door on his surprised expression.

When he came around to the driver's seat, he didn't say a word, thank God. He didn't have to, his smile said it all.

Have fun, Lorissa had said. Be careful.

Right. Only there was no way she could she do both at the same time, not with this man.

The carnival was abuzz with preopening activity. Jack stared at their booth. "She really meant it."

Sam laughed. There were wild rides and row upon row of games, where you could lose as much money as you wanted, and more. There were arts and crafts booths as well, and a wide variety of food stands selling high-fat fast food. On the walk to their booth Jack had been stopped a few times for autographs, and though he did it happily enough, he deflected any personal questions, private as always.

Music filled the salty air, blaring out of speakers set up at the end of every row. Sam found herself grinning with anticipation and excitement as she eyed the dunking booth in front of them. A large tank of water sat beneath a bench that looked rather like a diving board, and above it, a bull's-eye for people to throw softballs at. When one hit the mark, the seat-with one of them on it-would drop. "Look on the bright side," she said. "That's a long throw and a rather small target. No kid is actually going to be able to hit that. We'll be dry all day."

"Yeah? Why don't you go first and make sure. In fact, I'll throw first, just to check it out."

"Oh, no," she said, laughing, backing up a little at the wicked look in his eyes. "You should go first."

"And why is that?"

"Um…" To see if he looked as good wet in the daylight as he had by moonlight? "To make sure it's safe," she came up with brilliantly.

He laughed knowingly, and when his cell phone rang, he flipped it open. "What now, Heather? Uh-huh… listen, didn't we just see you three minutes ago sitting on your throne at the ticket booth collecting money?" His eyes shot to Sam's. "You're opening for business and you need my butt on the hot spot? Gee, thanks. Yeah, yeah, love you, too, but I wouldn't sleep with both eyes shut tonight if I were you." He snapped the phone shut, slid it into his pants pocket and looked at the dunking booth with what could only be dread.

Sam had to laugh. "I know you're not afraid of water."

He cut his gaze back to her as he kicked off his shoes and then tugged off his sweats. Beneath he wore knee-length dark blue swim trunks. "I'm not afraid of anything," he said, and pulled off his shirt.

She worked on not swallowing her tongue. As she'd seen the week before, the man hadn't lost any of his muscle tone in the year since he'd stopped playing. She'd made it her business to look up and learn about his career this past week. He'd been a true athlete, one of the best, until multiple knee injuries and the subsequent surgeries had taken him off the top of his game. He claimed not to be afraid of anything, but she knew better-because he'd told her himself. "Except commitment," she reminded him. "You're afraid of commitment."

His shirt hit her in the face. When she pulled it away, after first gulping in a big breath to catch his delicious scent, he lifted a brow.

"Isn't that a bit like the pot calling the kettle black?"

She lifted her chin.

"Fine," he said. "Neither of us like to admit being afraid of anything. We're big, bad toughies with an impenetrable surface." He walked toward the ladder that would take him to the hot seat. "But I'll bet your sweet ass that my impenetrable surface is going to freeze right off if anyone manages a hit."

"Don't worry," she crooned, struggling to hold back a laugh at the look on his face as he sat there, tanned and sleek and shirtless, his long legs dangling down nearly to the level of water, looking like he'd rather have an enema. Poor baby. "I'll bet that water isn't that cold."

"I'll be sure to let you know." He eyed the crowd now running in from the main gates. Before another minute passed, there was a long line of kids waiting to dunk Jack Scandal Knight.

Secretly, Sam hoped someone got him. She wanted to see that finely honed-to-perfection body all wet and gleaming. She wanted that a lot.

The first kid was a young girl, maybe seven years old. Sam took her tickets, and in return gave her two softballs. "Dunk him," Sam said. "He can't wait to hit the water."

The girl's first throw fell short of the tank. She thrust out her lower lip and looked up at Sam with determination in her eyes. "I wanna dunk him."

Sam pulled the girl over the line, and a good five feet closer to Jack. "Try again."

"Hey," Jack protested.

Sam smiled sweetly at him. "Hey, back."

The girl missed again.

Sam thought she heard Jack's relieved sigh flutter over the air.

The next kid was a young teen and looked to have a good arm on him. Sam handed him two balls. "Dunk him."

"I will," he promised, and his first ball hit the very edge of the target, but bounced away without releasing the seat.

"Come on, you can do it," she said, avoiding looking at Jack while the kid wound up for ball number two.

"Sam?"

This from Jack.

The kid paused in his throw.

Sam looked at Jack.

"For every kid you encourage to dunk me," he said silkily, "I'm going to buy a ball when you're up here, and believe me, I'm not going to miss, not once."

Everyone in line laughed.

Sam's stomach dropped to her toes. "That might be expensive. And besides, I wouldn't want you to throw like that. You might hurt your shoulder. In fact, I'll make a warning sign because, now that I think about it, retirees shouldn't play at this booth. Too dangerous to their health."

More laughter.

Jack's face broke slowly into an extremely evil smile. "Oh, don't you worry about my health, sweetheart. I might be retired, but I'm still in full working order."

Sam's hormones jumped.

The young teen threw his second ball.

And down Jack went. The splash he made had the kids hooting and hollering, and when he surfaced, he tossed back his wet hair and looked right at her. He continued to do so as he effortlessly pulled himself back up and reset the seat.

Dripping wet.

Glistening.

Looking like the pagan god of sin, with water streaming down his body and those glittering eyes on hers, he smiled at her with pure wickedness.

She swallowed hard. "Next," she squeaked.

A young woman stood there, clearly as in awe of Jack as Sam was. She licked her lips and made sure she was as close to the line as she could get. "I'm standing here until I dunk him," she told Sam. "I don't care how much money it takes."

It took five bucks.

And this time when Jack climbed back up, he looked at Sam and mouthed, "Two."

She blinked.

"That's two people you've gotten to dunk me," he clarified. "Don't think I'm not keeping track."

"It's my job," she said weakly, but when she handed balls to the next person in line-another young woman-Sam didn't offer one word of encouragement.

When she missed, Sam breathed a sigh of relief.

But then came the most adorable little girl ever. She couldn't be more than four, with long dark hair and the darkest eyes Sam had ever seen. She was clutching the hand of a woman wearing the official tag of Heather's charity.

"This is one of our kids," the woman said. "Thelma is in a group home near the rec center, and some of the money we earn here today will go toward new play equipment in her yard."

Sam looked down into Thelma's dark eyes and felt her heart crack. "Well, then, sweetie, this game is on me."

"I get a ball?"

"You get as many balls as it takes to dunk Jack Knight," Sam rashly promised, and pulled a twenty out of her pocket to add to the day's earnings. Then she picked Thelma up and tucked her on her hip. With her other hand she grabbed a basket of balls and stepped over the line. "Dunk him."

Thelma giggled, and threw her first ball, which went about three feet.

Sam stepped even closer to the tank, and the target. She met Jack's eyes.

He lifted a brow. "Three, Sam?"

She thrust her chin in the air. "Again, Thelma."

Thelma missed.

Sam moved even closer.

The crowd was cheering loudly now. Jack looked both intrigued by Sam's interference, and also quite resigned.

The third throw was beautiful. Thelma hit the target and Jack took another bath.

When he surfaced this time, he didn't climb back onto his seat. He got out of the tank. He didn't grab a towel; he came directly toward Sam, who was just about to put Thelma down, but suddenly felt holding the thin, warm body close was a good idea. "Thelma, what do you say we go-"

"Hi, there." Jack bent a little and smiled into Thelma's eyes. "Do you know who I am?"

"You fly through the air and you make baskets."

Jack laughed, and so did the people around them. "I did," he agreed. "And now I'm going to make this pretty lady holding you fly. Right into the water, like I just did. Do you want to see that?"

Thelma clapped her hands.

Sam's heart started beating as fast as a hummingbird's wings. Faster. "Well, I don't really think Thelma wants to get down right now-"

Thelma opened her arms to Jack.

Wet and all, he took the little girl from Sam and smiled sweetly down into her face. "That's a girl. Want to help me?"

Thelma nodded.

And everyone looked expectantly at Sam.

"I don't think I ever agreed to actually get into the tank," she said, glancing over at the water, which suddenly looked yery, very cold. "I'm pretty sure I just said I'd help."

"Yes, and this is going to be a great help," Jack told her. "Seeing you in a bathing suit, and wet, will help me tremendously." He waggled a brow challengingly. "Unless you want to chicken out, of course." He smiled down at Thelma, happy in his arms. "I'm sure the kids will understand if you don't want to-"

"Oh, fine." Stepping back, she untied the strap of her halter sundress from around her neck, unzipped it and let it fall. She kicked it up to Jack, who caught it and grinned at her, taking in her white bikini.

Reaching up, she gathered her hair, tying it with the band she'd had around her wrist. Ready, she paused to take one last look at Jack and then went still.

His eyes, hot and hungry, were right on hers.

And her heart, racing only a second before, skipped a beat. And then another.

"Don't worry," he said lightly. "The water's only a little cold."

"Thanks." Moving to the tank, she climbed the ladder while everyone cheered her on.

And then she was sitting on the little seat-wet from Jack's body-waiting to be dunked.

She watched Jack run his free hand over Thelma's hair before he grabbed a ball. He said something to the crowd over his shoulder, and everyone in line cracked up.

She rolled her eyes. She'd gotten him dunked, and now he was going to follow through on his threat and do the same to her. It was a male thing, an ego thing, a stupid male ego thing, so really, she had no idea why her stomach did a funny little quiver, why her thighs tightened, why her whole body was heating up.

Unbelievable, but all this silly little playing back and forth was turning her on.

She needed a therapist, she decided as Jack tossed the ball up and down in his hand, smiling at her.

He wound up.

And with perfect aim, dunked her on his first try.

She went down with a startled squeal that had Jack grinning broadly. Beneath the water she became a blur, then her long legs gave a strong kick and she surfaced. Shaking the water from her face, she didn't look at him as she climbed out of the tank.

But he looked at her.

And looked.

Those long, toned limbs, all that dripping wet flesh…

Oh yeah, today was looking up.

Thelma laughed and clapped her hands. "More."

Jack laughed. "You've got it sweetheart."

At the end of the day, Sam's body was humming with a pleasant sort of exhaustion. Hair still damp, she slid into the passenger seat of Jack's SUV and put her head back.

"Tired?" Jack poured himself into his seat, not uttering a word or complaint about his right knee, which she'd caught him favoring a few times. "Because I'm beat to hell. Who'd of thought dunking you would have done me in."

"I warned you," she said. "The sport is dangerous for retirees."

He slanted her a daring look. "Are you asking me to somehow show you I am in no way ready for the old folks' home? Because that's what it sounds like, and believe me, this body is still in prime condition, and I'm willing to prove it."

She laughed. "Has a line like that ever actually worked for you?"

He rubbed his jaw, looking only a little sheepish. "Yeah."

Sam gave a slow shake of her head. "That's a sorry statement of my entire gender." But inside, her whole body continued to hum with excitement.

Jack started the car and they drove out of the lot. "I think Heather pulled in a ton of money today."

"Entertaining kids is a lot harder than I thought."

"You were a damn good sport about it." He glanced at her. "Thanks for-"

She laughed, shook her head. "Oh, no you don't."

"Oh, no I don't what?"

"You are not going to thank me."

"Uh… okay. Why not?"

She lifted a shoulder. "Because you were a good sport, too, and I'm not going to thank you. Everyone should give back to their community like that, and I'm ashamed to say I don't, not really. But I like the way I feel right now, so I'm going to try to change that."

He glanced at her but didn't say a word, not until he pulled into Wild Cherries. Turning off the engine, unhooking first his seat belt and then hers, he faced her. He slid his hands to hers when she might have gotten out of the car. "You're an amazing woman, Samantha O'Ryan. Anyone ever tell you that?"

She knew her smile was far too dreamy for her own comfort. "Stop it. You don't know me well enough to say that. You don't know the truth."

"And what's the truth?"

"I'm bossy, outspoken and don't follow rules very well." She squirmed a little. "Among other things."

"Yeah. So?" Lifting a hand, he tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, then trailed his finger down her throat until her breath caught.

"That doesn't scare you?" she whispered.

"That you're bossy, outspoken and don't follow rules?" He looked into her eyes and laughed. "Maybe if you were my financial adviser, but no…" He traced her throat again, down to the very base of her neck where she knew her pulse had just leaped. "You don't scare me." He dipped his head and kissed the spot his finger had just touched.

The feel of his lips on her had her head falling back a little, her eyes closing. She told herself that the reason she didn't scare him because this… this thing between them wasn't going anywhere. Nowhere except quite possibly-hopefully-to the bedroom, and they both understood that.

She repeated it to herself to make sure she got it. This wasn't going anywhere. Neither of them wanted any such connection. No matter how many times she said it, however, it didn't seem to ring true, which led her to a bigger dilemma. Was this more than just girl meets boy, girl enjoys boy for summer, then girl moves on?

No. This was temporary only. Fun. Uninhibited. And at the moment, with his mouth cruising its way over her collarbone, hair brushing the underside of her chin, his hands on her hips, that worked for her. That worked really well.

Even though she suspected she'd need another pep talk soon enough. "Jack?"

He'd made his way to her shoulder, bared by her sundress, and he gave her a playful nip that he promptly soothed with a kiss. "Hmm?"

"Want to come in?"

He went still, then lifted his head and met her gaze. "For… another hot chocolate?"

"Not exactly." She winced. "I don't just work here. I, uh… live above the café."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I don't usually like guys to know because…"

"Because then maybe they'd show up when you didn't want them to," he guessed.

"Yeah. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"I understand, believe me, I do."

She imagined he did, for close to the same reasons. "I have some herbal lotion upstairs, made by a friend who really knows what she's doing. I could put some on your sore knee, see if it helps."

He blinked once, slow as an owl.

"I mean, unless you have something else-" Feeling silly, she turned away, reached for the door handle, but he stopped her and turned her back to face him.

"I'd love to come up."