Third Degree by Mindy Klasky

Author:Mindy Klasky [Klasky, Mindy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sports romance, spicy romance, sexy romance, baseball, hot romance, contemporary romance
ISBN: 9781611384086
Barnesnoble:
Goodreads: 22670060
Publisher: Book View Cafe
Published: 2013-12-31T08:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 6

The smell of coffee teased Ashley from her dreams—the smell of coffee and the sound of running water and the feel of cool air on her bare legs.

Eyes slitting open, she reached toward Josh’s side of the bed, already certain she wouldn’t find him there. Someone had to have brought the stoneware mug to her nightstand. Someone had to be taking a shower in the bathroom. Someone had to have stolen all the covers and left them at the foot of the bed.

She tugged at the sheets, redistributing the crisp cotton even as she pulled the burgundy blanket up high across her chest. She was rewarded for her efforts with the soft lemon scent of Josh. She could even make herself imagine that the heat of his body still radiated from the linens.

But she couldn’t deny one essential truth: She was awake. Awake enough that it only made sense to sit up. It only made sense to sip the coffee—warm and sweet and rich with cream. It only made sense to turn a smile toward the opening bathroom door, toward the man who leaned lazily against the doorframe, seemingly unaware that he wore nothing but a tight-tucked towel.

“Good morning,” he drawled, taking his time to study her in greedy appraisal.

Her fingers were folded around the mug, but she raised her forearms to better clutch the blanket against her chest. Even so, she felt her body respond to his frank gaze. The tightening of her nipples kindled a bright thread to her clit, and she arched her back in reflex. “It will be,” she said. “Once you come back to bed.”

The hunger in his eyes rewarded her for daring to make the invitation. “I’d love to, babe. But I have a meeting I can’t miss.”

Her pulse quickened at the endearment, even as she summoned a theatrical pout. “A meeting? On a Saturday?”

He shifted in the doorway, and she was pretty sure he was trying to disguise his distinctly physical reaction to her pursed lips. He sounded truly regretful as he said, “Lunch with my grandmother. A standing date, whenever I’m in town. Want to come?”

She flushed at the double entendre, wondering if he’d used the word intentionally. He’d certainly made her come the night before—multiple times and in quick succession. And now he was talking about taking her to meet his grandmother? Some sweet little old lady, with blue hair and a couch covered in clear plastic? A lunch of cottage cheese and peach slices, maybe a scoop of egg salad on a plate with club crackers?

Even if she’d wanted to go, she could hardly meet his grandmother while wearing her outfit from last night. She needed to fortify herself with a bra at least. With an untorn pair of panties. With shoes that didn’t look like a stripper’s. Maybe if she drove home, changed, then came back here…

She glanced at the clock for the first time since the coffee had worked its magic and was shocked to see glaring red numbers: 11:15.

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