Torn

An Excerpt from THROWING HEAT A Diamonds and Dugouts Novel by Jennifer Seasons

Nightclub manager Leslie Cutter has never been one to back down from a bet. So when Peter Kowalskin, pitcher for the Denver Rush baseball team, bets her that she can’t keep her hands off of him, she’s not about to let the arrogant, gorgeous playboy win. But as things heat up, this combustible pair will have to decide just how much they’re willing to wager on one another . . . and on a future that just might last forever.

“Is there something you want?” he demanded with a raised eyebrow, amused at being able to throw her words right back at her.

“You wish,” Leslie retorted and tossed him a dismissive glance. Only he caught the gleam of interest in her eyes and knew her for the liar that she was.

Peter took a step toward her, closing the gap by a good foot until only an arm’s reach separated them. He leaned forward and caged her in by placing a hand on each armrest of her chair. Her eyes widened the tiniest bit, but she held her ground.

“I wish many, many things.”

“Really?” she questioned and shifted slightly away from him in her chair. “Such as what?”

Peter couldn’t help noticing that her breathing had gone shallow. How about that? “I wish to win the World Series this season.” It would be a hell of a way to go out.

Her gaze landed on his mouth and flicked away. “Boring.”

Humor sparked inside him at that, and he chuckled. “You want exciting?”

She shrugged. “Why not? Amuse me.”

That worked for him. Hell yeah. If she didn’t watch herself, he was going to excite the pants right off of her.

Just excitement, arousal, and sexual pleasure. That was what he was looking for this time around. And it was going to be fun leading her up to it.

But if he wanted her there, then he had to start.

Pushing until he’d tipped her chair back and only the balls of her feet were on the desk, her painted toes curling for a grip, Peter lowered his head until his mouth was against her ear. She smelled like coconut again, and his gut went tight.

“I wish I had you bent over this desk right here with your hot bare ass in the air.”

She made a small sound in her throat and replied, “Less boring.”

Peter grinned. Christ, the woman was tough. “Do you remember what I did to you that night in Miami? The thing that made you come hard, twice—one on top of the other?” He sure as hell did. It had involved his tongue, his fingers, and Leslie on all fours with her face buried in a pillow, moaning his name like she was begging for deliverance.

She tried to cover it, but he heard her quick intake of breath. “It wasn’t that memorable.”

Bullshit.

He slid a hand from the armrest and squeezed the top of her right leg, his thumb rubbing lazily back and forth on the skin of her inner thigh. Her muscles tensed, but she didn’t pull away.

“Need a reminder?”