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  “Bloody lemmings.” Jocelyn fumed at the women swarming toward her men as they strode back into the reception hall, and at herself for thinking of them that way. Worse, she had to swim into that sea of ladies and drag Jared out for the sound check.

  Jared flirted too easily with the bevy of women hanging on to his every word and was enjoying himself too much. Oh I’m not jealous, not one bit. Liar, said that little voice in her head. She pushed over to Jared and tapped him on the shoulder. “I need you in the dining room to get the lapel mic hooked up.”

  “Do you have to take him, Jocelyn?” asked a mini-skirted, overdone Debbie Hester, draped on Jared’s arm. “We’re getting to know him better.”

  “Sorry, Debbie, duty calls. That reminds me. I never heard back from you. Can we count on your support for the girls’ soccer team Jared’s coaching? Business contributions range from fifty to one hundred fifty dollars.”

  “Of course, my pleasure. Put me down for one fifty. With Health Corp rescued, my little health care service company is doing quite well. See you later, Jared.” She walked away.

  “You’re one shrewd manipulator, Jocelyn Wade. I’m impressed.”

  “That was taking candy from a baby. We hit sponsorship goals two weeks ago. I couldn’t resist.” Her laugh bubbled up from down deep, a childish joy settled in her heart.

  “Sometimes, not often, you make it easy to like you.” He flashed his broadest smile and took her arm. “Let’s get this evening started.”

  Waitstaff in black tuxedo jackets and pressed white shirts served dinner. Wine flowed. The room buzzed with conversation amidst the clinking of silverware on china until Jared took the podium.

  Relaxed for the first time this evening, Jocelyn realized she’d never seen Jared in such formal dress. Elegant in a tailored pinstripe silk suit, the crowd eating up his every word, he wore local celebrity with style. If she thought he was sexy before… An image of him sitting at her desk as she lowered herself on his steel-hard length and rubbed her naked body against the silk of that suit planted itself in her brain and refused to go away.

  The standing ovation startled her back to the dinner. With a shake of her head to clear out the fog, she thanked Jared and handed the podium to Don Corcoran to give the Chamber’s response. Not one to play second fiddle to anyone, Don preened and blustered, lifting the crowd from excited to ecstatic when he publicly committed the Chamber to support the school budgets even if that meant not reducing taxes.

  On its feet, the audience stomped and clapped. Jocelyn breathed a sigh of relief. Trying to mediate the internal tensions between her personal desires as a mother for strong schools and the professional compromises she made as a business leader had her continuously refilling her medicine cabinet. Thank goodness for Tums, the wonder drug.

  Thanks to Jared, again, her world was a little easier, the stresses reduced. Her gaze instinctively sought his and found it staring back, searching for something. She broke contact, not ready to answer the question of Jared Wyatt.

  * * * * *

  Jared agreed to meet Gideon at AJ’s Gym, just blocks from the Chamber of Commerce. The ramshackle building was set back from the street, making it easy to miss if you weren’t looking for it. Chipped white paint and sagging windowpanes sang a song of age and lack of investment.

  Inside, over-polished state-of-the-art boxing equipment flashed its mojo. Framed pictures of past champions strung along the back wall caught his attention. Many were of a younger Gideon and another teen—a Wade sibling by his looks—who was tall and lanky with Jocelyn’s auburn hair and Gideon’s sculpted jawline and molten-brown eyes.

  “That’s Tommy, the middle child, he’s stationed in Afghanistan,” Gideon said. His voice echoed across the empty gym. “This used to be my father’s gym, AJ for Alan and Joanne. Dad sold it after she died. Lou, the owner, lets me use it when I’m in town.”

  “When she pass?”

  “About fourteen years ago, after Kylie was born. You ready to roll?” They stripped down to shorts, did some warm-ups, and put on their gloves. In the ring, Gideon came out swinging. “What’s going on between you and Joci? She’s off her game and the trail leads to you.”

  “Direct. You don’t pull any punches.” Jared laughed at his own joke.

  Gideon raised an eyebrow, his left hook missed its target. “Wades go for the jugular. Faster that way.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  “My sister’s a real ball-buster. Growing up around us left her little choice. Mom tried damn hard to dress her up in pink and ponytails, but Joci wouldn’t have it. She’s as stubborn as they come.” Gideon’s fist made first contact with Jared’s gut. “Now answer my question.”

  “I want to date her. She wants the same thing, but denies it, and I won’t take no for an answer. When it comes to mule-headedness, she’s met her match.” Jared danced away from a left jab, sweat sliding down his chest, tickling his bellybutton.

  “She doesn’t trust easily,” Gideon said, blocking Jared’s right cross, veins pulsing along taut biceps. “The men in her life haven’t been there for her and over the years it has sucked her dry.”

  “That’s why she axes relationships? She sees them as burdens?” Jared’s one-two punch hit its target.

  Gideon nodded after moving far enough back to avoid Jared’s fists. “Most have been. That asshat of a first husband up and left after Kylie was born. She held the family together when Mom was sick. Now she shoulders Dad’s care, runs interference when I run too loose with the ladies, organizes Tommy days, when she forces all of us to make care packages to send to our brother. You want her? Fight by her side, no matter what. And take care of her. She pretends to not need it…but she does.”

  Chapter Eight

  The high-school parking lot buzzed with cars. The first wave of would-be girls’ soccer fans headed to the stadium. Jocelyn, Gideon and Alan commandeered the front row. The teams lined up for play and Jared scanned the filled bleachers. His gaze caught hers and he nodded thanks. Pointing at him, she mouthed, “Your turn now.”

  “Trust me,” he mouthed back with a smile that knocked her socks off.

  Tied at two-all in the second half of the game, during the final minutes, Kylie passed to Tessa Atwater and the Madison Blaze scored, winning the game 3-2. The crowd roared to its feet, hooting and hollering, the Wade clan in the thick of it. Jocelyn let loose with cheers and clapped her hands red. Her heart wept with joy watching the real victory of the day, Kylie smack in the middle of the team hugfest, face flushed with delight.

  When Kylie ran over to them, Jocelyn grabbed hold and couldn’t let go.

  “Great game. What you’ve done with those kids is extraordinary,” Gideon said. His voice startled Jocelyn back to reality—one with Jared Wyatt in a tight black T outlining every damn muscle hovering in her face.

  “The bleachers were packed, uniforms top-of-the-line, you even provided drinks and snacks—a first for me. Thank you.”

  “You did more than what you promised, I could do no less.” Her knees buckled when his gaze locked on to her and seemed to probe for hidden secrets.

  “I’d start fundraising for the trip to the national championships.”

  “Deal.” Her daughter happy in her arms, Jared’s grin lighting up her world, a one-word answer was all she could muster.

  * * * * *

  With Kylie at teammate’s house for a sleepover, Jocelyn prowled around her too-quiet, too-empty house, surfed TV channels, tossed through books, rearranged the spice rack—nothing grabbed her interest. Flipping through cookbooks, she sought the perfect cinnamon scone recipe. Baking her favorite breakfast would keep her busy for twenty minutes at least.

  The knock at the door jacked her energy level from sluggish to slow. Even if it were most likely a pizza delivery to the wrong address, she ambled over, glad for the momentary distraction with another human.

  She should have guessed. All surprises led to Jared, who stood on her porch,
reeking male in a denim jacket, tight T, jeans and those roper boots that snatched a place of honor in all her fantasies. A lock of black hair fell across his forehead, daring her to brush it back, his scent reeled her closer.

  “Evening, Jocelyn. Kylie left this at the game.” A red warm-up jacket draped over his arm.

  Door wide open, she took the jacket and tilted her head in invitation.

  His girth made the living room feel small, airless. Her head spun and lungs struggled for breath. She stood at a precipice, the voice in her head promised heaven if she jumped. Her legs locked in place, the fear and distrust tattooed on her heart held her back from reaching toward his warmth and wrapping it around herself. Needing to do something, good manners seemed a reasonable place to start.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Red wine if you’ll drink with me?”

  Jocelyn pointed to a fully loaded wrought iron wine rack nestled in the corner of the living room, next to the kitchen entrance. “Pick your poison. I’ll grab glasses and the opener.”

  Wine poured, glass in hand, lifted, he edged toward her, chest-to-breast. “What shall we toast to, Joci?”

  “Joci…no one around here calls me that anymore.”

  “Your family doesn’t call you anything else. I like it. Do you mind?”

  “No, I like it too. I’d forgotten how much.” Joci rang of joy and spontaneity. Jocelyn grated harsh on her ears, brittle and scratchy like the woman she’d become. She needed more pleasure to lighten the loads she carried. Here it was, in her living room on a silver platter if only she had the courage to seize it.

  “To winning,” she said, her glass raised in salute.

  “To winning.” He clinked his glass against hers, intent in his eyes so plain if she nodded, he’d hoist her over his shoulder, throw her on the bed and make love to her until sunrise.

  Liquid heat churning through her veins had her body and her heart clenching in need for the man in front of her. Overwhelmed by sensation, she looked away, breaking physical and emotional contact. Even with the sexual energy pulsing through the room, this wasn’t just about sex. Maybe Jared had been right, it never had been. Was she ready for this? The scars Nick had cut choked her, held her back, even as hope fought to reach out to the man in front of her.

  “How did you fill the bleachers this morning? I knew you’d raise the money, but a full house? That’s rare for an untested team.”

  “You mean a girls team,” she said, shoulders relaxing, grabbing at the more comfortable banter he offered. An external distraction to the emotional war raging within.

  “Yes.”

  “I put a whole Chamber department on the phone, called in a few favors, and asked Don’s daughter to sing the national anthem. He’s so proud of her, he arm-twisted friends and employees to support her and, by extension, the team.”

  “You are one impressive lady, Jocelyn Wade.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she said with a curtsy, a grin and a warm glow in her belly. “I aim to please.”

  “Joci, are you flirting with me?”

  “No, not flirting.” Yes she was.

  “Did you enjoy the game today?”

  “Absolutely. The girls did a great job. They should be pulling fans to the bleachers on their own in no time.”

  “Yeah, they did. Kylie was brilliant.”

  A breath she’d been holding inched its way out of her lungs. Her gaze drilled through the man in front of her, who’d helped her daughter, showed her how to feel again, charmed the Chamber leaders and fucked like a dream.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever find a way to thank you enough for that. And I didn’t have to strong-arm you, bribe you or threaten you to do it.”

  “It’s not your gratitude I want.” His gaze blazed passion so hot it had her sweating and it demanded a response.

  Time to choose and there was no choice at all. Nick be damned, his legacy would no longer cripple her. She cupped his cheek in one hand and kissed him gently, letting it linger. When she pulled away, she put her wineglass on the coffee table, took his hand and led him toward the stairs.

  He didn’t move. “Joci, my car’s in your driveway. If I follow you up, it stays until morning.”

  “And the entire town will know you spent the night by lunchtime. I know.” She kept walking.

  He pulled her back, his feet rooted on the wood floor. “So we’re both clear, if I come upstairs, we’re talking the R word. You—on my arm, in my bed, at my games, by my side—mine.”

  The possessiveness in his voice sent shivers of longing through her body and soul. “I know. Are you coming or not?”

  “Hell yes.” He took the steps two by two, lines of victory plastered across his face.

  In her room, Jared hovered by the door, arms at his sides, waiting to see what she would do. This was her game, her move. She’d accept nothing less. Now with the sweet rewards of victory in his grasp, he wouldn’t let the carnal hunger ripping through his gut ruin the poignancy of a moment he had fought too hard to reach.

  Tethering her gaze to his, she slithered toward him. His cock stiffened with each sashay of her hips. She peeled off his jacket and shirt. Her lips slid over his collarbone, hands and nails circled his back and torso. After she unzipped his jeans and tugged them down, he kicked off his boots and let the pants fall to the floor. Jocelyn made slow work of her own clothes. Jeans flowed leisurely down leanly muscled legs, bra straps moving like molasses down each arm, tempting him with succulent flesh and hints of sin to come. His dick throbbed mercilessly, but still he waited, content to let her play with him. When she was fully naked, she pulled him onto the bed.

  On the edge of the mattress, she scanned up and down his body. “You’re such a beautiful man,” she said, the tenderness in her voice at odds with the raw desire flaring in her eyes. One hand drifted up his inner thigh, teasing out a moan from deep in his throat. The other reached into her nightstand to pull out a long red-and-gold silk scarf.

  “What are you going to do with that?” Whatever it was, bring it on. He was up for anything she had in mind.

  “I’m going to make you feel good.”

  The scarf draped over his chest, she nibbled his lips as her fingers massaged silk-sheathed nipples that strained into her touch. Intensifying the kiss, she sipped his tongue. Her fingers rolled harder and faster with every groan that escaped his lips.

  The silk swirled across the planes of his chest, smooth against the hard muscle. Teasing, enticing all the way down until she swathed it around his dick and pumped, a slow rhythm that had fire racing up his spine. Her tongue lapped at the crest of his cock and he growled like a rabid wolf, bucking into her grip. His body raged for more—to possess every inch of her. “Suck it. Deep.”

  She swallowed him all in and flicked her tongue up and around. That mouth was a little piece of heaven and he was going to move in, permanently.

  His fingers laced through her hair and held her to him as he thrust through the smooth silk of the scarf and the velvet heat of her mouth. Sweat beaded on his forehead. Pressure pooled in the small of his back and pulsed through his erection. ”I’m coming, babe.”

  She stayed with him. And he loved it.

  With a strangled cry, he poured himself into her, letting her have all of him. Breath ragged, he pulled Joci up into his arms and nuzzled into the satin of her skin, the softness of her hair. “That was one hell of a prop.” Holding her with one arm, he reached down with the other and unraveled the scarf. “My turn.” He intended to own her as completely as she’d just taken him.

  His head resting on one arm, Jared slid the scarf along her thigh, across her belly to tickle her breasts. With a sigh, Jocelyn stretched back and surrendered to his touch.

  He got to his knees and hovered over her. His large body cast a shadow over the bed. The scarf in one hand, Jared glided his hands down her arms and stopped at her wrists. With one swift motion, he had them over her head and tied to the headboard.

  �
�What are you doing? I’m not a closet submissive.” Anxiety stiffened her shoulders and had her crossing her legs.

  “I know, Joci. Trust me.” Those beautiful eyes, soft with affection, and that rich-baritone laugh chased the niggling doubts back into hiding. Her body relaxed into the bed, ready for him.

  He drew one nipple in his warm, wet mouth, feasted on it like a starving man. Unable to get enough, he nibbled, sucked and licked the diamond-hard points and the tender flesh around them until her whole body trembled in need.

  “Need more. Eat me, now.” Her legs opened in invitation.

  His head and chest lifted and he stared down at her, his breath grazed the sensitized skin of her breasts. “I’m calling the shots, babe, and I’m not done here.”

  Syrupy-thick juices dripped down her thighs. Ah hell, she was gushing. This man did things to her. And not just to her body. He had dug himself under her skin and hijacked part of her soul.

  “Like that, I see. Good.”

  Returning to her breasts, he suckled her to insanity. His hand moved down to her lower lips and stroked her. She opened to him like a flower to the sun, her heart reaching for a life she’d long ago stopped believing could be hers. Clit under his thumb, he stoked the fire to blazing.

  “Baby, please,” she said between moans. Lord in heaven, he had her begging again.

  “Since you asked so nicely.” Settled between her thighs, a wolfish grin on his face, he peeled her folds open with his fingers to expose her needy flesh. “Yum,” he breathed against her thigh and took the first taste with a kiss. His tongue licked her from bottom to top, then flicked the bud, a gentle flutter that had her whimpering. His hands slid under her glutes to pull her closer to him and she ground in, desperate for more even as he consumed her, utterly.

  This was paradise. Oh the man knew how to play her just right.

  “Come for me.” His tongue relentless, fingers torturing.