~~~
Brennan spent the day at the Broadway Boulevard store. It was a particularly difficult day, for he'd had to confront an employee with theft. The expression on the young man's face had been one with which Brennan felt painfully familiar. The excuses thrown forth had been similarly familiar and just as painful. I didn't do it. Okay, I did do it, but it wasn't as bad as it looks. I had good reasons...
Unfortunately, Brennan doubted the experience was going to serve as a wake-up call. Perhaps he should have pressed charges in addition to terminating the guy's employment.
But Brennan's sense of identification had made him feel unfit to mete judgment. If he hadn't finally looked in the mirror one day— If his parents hadn't been supportive enough to take him back and help him dry out— He could easily have landed in the same situation as the thief or maybe in one that was even worse. No, he couldn't press charges.
But he did have to fire the guy. It was the part of his work Brennan disliked the most.
It was a pleasant surprise, then, when pulling his car into the driveway at home to find Erica dribbling a basketball next door. Of course, he wasn't supposed to want to run into her, but he couldn't help a lift in his spirits.
As he shifted into park, she swiveled and shot.
Two points.
One side of Brennan's mouth kicked up as he watched her slender legs while she retrieved the ball. He'd give her a lot more than two points for the snug knit tank top and shorts she wore. They managed to keep her perfectly modest while displaying her lithe body to perfection.
He was pretty sure she hadn't even noticed his car drive up since she was clearly engrossed in what she was doing, dribbling in a figure eight, then turning and shooting. This was apparently an exercise regime.
He turned off the motor, but she still hadn't noticed him. So he got out of the car slowly, enjoying the show. She was quick, agile, and sexy as all get out. A good part of the latter came from her intense physical energy.
When he closed his car door, she finally noticed his presence. She started a little, shot him a quick smile, and continued her routine.
That smile did not satisfy him. It wasn't the real smile he could occasionally coax out of her. Or that shy, precious smile he'd gotten when he'd brought over the chocolate-chip cookies.
Brennan tilted his head, watching her continue her figure eights. She wasn't smiling at all now. In fact, she looked rather grim.
Perhaps she was simply concentrating on finishing her workout, but Brennan could not convince himself this was the case. She looked upset. She looked like she shouldn't be left to run in figure eights all by herself, unsmiling and grim.
Suddenly, Brennan found himself shucking off his sports coat. Hell, he could use a little physical exercise himself to work off his difficult day.
She didn't appear to notice what he intended until he stole the ball out from under her. "Hey!"
"Sloppy," Brennan told her and dribbled toward the basket.
"We'll see about that!" With a laugh that made the whole thing worthwhile, she leapt to block him and succeeded in causing him to miss the basket.
They both went for the ball. Erica slipped underneath Brennan's height to steal it first.
He didn't give her an opportunity for a shot, though, effectively blocking her puny stature and then intercepting the ball when she tried a wild throw.
Now she shadowed him as he attempted an approach to the basket.
Back and forth they went, taking turns attempting baskets, shadowing each other and then blocking shots. They didn't say much, though there were plenty of frustrated shouts and laughter.
Brennan didn't give her any favors. She was fast and her throws were accurate.
On the other hand, he had a considerable advantage in height. Possibly that's why she started resorting to fouls, knocking into him, grabbing his waist. She succeeded in stealing the ball. She also succeeded in turning him on. Big time.
He wasn't about to let her get away with it, or at least not without suitable retaliation. While she had control of the ball, he locked his arm around her collarbone.
"Hey!" she squawked, but she laughed.
Brennan's inner temperature shot up about a zillion degrees. Her soft rear end had connected with his front. Though Erica had dropped the ball, he wasn't able to follow up on his advantage, and she recaptured the prize.
"Gotcha!" she crowed.
Oh, no. He wasn't going to let stupid sexual impulses make him lose the game. He went after her again and this time got the ball.
She slammed into him.
The play got increasingly rough. Increasingly physical. Over and over, Brennan got brief hits of her— feminine softness overlying muscle. He knew he was pushing boundaries, both in the basketball game and in that other game they were playing. It didn't matter. This was so exciting, so stimulating. He kept on pushing.
She wasn't shying away from the contact. Far from it. She gave as good as she got, grabbing, slamming, shoving. If anything, she appeared to relish the tussle.
Yes, Brennan concluded on catching a glimpse of a brief, mischievous smile. She was definitely relishing it.
At one point, he was practically embracing her, his arms to either side of her shoulders, preventing her from moving or trying for a basket.
He had the advantage of size, but she was quick and flexible. She twisted out from under his block, twirled and then jumped to throw the ball.
As the basketball swished through the net, she threw her arms up straight into the air and laughed gleefully.
That laugh was the final straw. Seeing Erica look happy and triumphant made him feel happy and triumphant. It made him feel...like her man. He grabbed her beneath her arms and pulled her back against his chest. "No fair," he panted. "You're better than I am."
She giggled. Erica-the-Solemn Carmichael actually giggled.
His triumph soared. Overwhelmed by the sensation, he growled and caught the rim of her ear between his teeth.
She froze.
So did he.
In that instant, everything changed. The playful atmosphere took on about a ton of weight. The very air seemed heavy, closing them in together.
He could hear her breathing, feel her chest expanding and contracting beneath his enclosing arms. As he slowly released her ear, she turned to look at him.
Her eyes were very wide, her pupils very dark.
Yes? What that a yes?
Hell. Had he asked a question? But, looking at her, he knew that he had. His blood was pumping hard and thick in his veins.
Far away, a thin voice asked him what he was doing.
He brushed the voice aside. "Where's Liam?" he asked Erica instead. His tone was low and rough.
"He's staying at a friend's house overnight."
This information, together with the invitation in her eyes, was like throwing gasoline on the fire already inside him. "Good," Brennan declared. He knew his expression did not match the innocence of his words. "Then I'll make you...dinner."
Her eyes looked liquid. "Okay."