Melissa moved out of his arms and headed straight to the windows. He put on a very strong pot of coffee, and when he turned back to her he nearly laughed out loud. She'd pressed herself up against the window, her palms flat against the glass. The laughter died in his throat as he imagined coming up behind her, yanking up her skirt, sliding down her stockings, and sinking into her wet heat. Her full br**sts would be heavy in his hands, her ni**les hard between his fingertips.
His famously steady hands were shaking as he brought over a large mug of coffee. Hearing his approach, she turned and said, "What a beautiful view."
She was far more beautiful than any view, and he couldn't take his eyes off her—couldn't stop the increasingly p**n ographic images of the two of them naked and sweaty from running through his head.
"Yeah," he finally replied, "it's nice." He took her hand and guided her to the plush couch. "Drink."
God, he sounded like a caveman. He'd never been nervous in front of cameras or out in a stadium playing in front of one hundred thousand screaming fans. So how could one curvy woman make it so hard for him to string more than two words together?
She tucked her legs beneath her and picked up the mug. Bringing the rim up to her lips, she took a sip, staring unabashedly at him over the mug.
"I really do like your place," she said, "but something's missing."
You're missing.
The words jumped uncensored into his brain. Because even with the views and the nice furniture and the gourmet kitchen, she was right: His house had never quite felt like home. Until now, with Melissa curled up on his couch, eating him up with her eyes.
Bringing her here had been a bad plan. A very bad plan.
Because he didn't need to save her from the other players in Barnum's. He needed to save her from himself.
Chapter Five
Dominic had been her very own warrior, swooping in from the darkness to carry her on his shoulder away from all those big bad athletes. That, and being held captive in his car and his condominium, was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. He'd picked her up as if she hardly weighed a thing and she'd felt tiny and perfect.
Plus, she thought with a small smile, she was nearly certain she'd felt his raging hard-on in the elevator. Which meant he wanted her.
The gin and tonics were starting to wear off, and she missed the warm, blurry cocoon that had helped her flirt so easily in the bar. She put down the coffee mug and stood up, stretching slowly, making sure that Dominic could see every curve.
"I'm not quite ready for coffee," she said as she went into the kitchen. She looked around for a wine rack, pulled out a bottle of merlot, and held it up. "Care for a glass?"
He shot to his feet. "No. And I don't think you should have any more, either."
She shrugged. "One it is." Opening and closing his cupboards until she found the red-wine glasses, she poured herself a generous amount. She lifted the glass to her nose and inhaled. "Mmm. This smells lovely."
She glanced up to see how Dominic was reacting, and was disappointed to see him sitting on a bench carved from a tree trunk on the opposite side of the room. Well, that wouldn't do at all.
He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Tell me what happened today."
She carried her glass to the couch nearest to him. "Nothing out of the ordinary." Which was true. Now that she realized her father had never respected her, the things he'd said to her today weren't much of a surprise.
Dominic's stare didn't waver. "A girl like you doesn't get drunk at a bar for no reason."
"Why don't you tell me, then," she asked in a husky voice. "Why does a girl like me get drunk at a bar?"
He stiffened and she hid a smile. She hoped he was stiff all over.
Rather than answer her provocative question, he stood up, retrieved her coffee mug, and put it on the side table next to her. He reached for her wineglass. "I'll take that."
He was incredibly sexy when he got all caveman on her, but she had no intention of handing over her glass. She was a big girl who knew when enough was enough. And she definitely hadn't had enough tonight, especially since both of them were still fully clothed.
Seduce him.
She closed her eyes. It sounded good. So good. What she wouldn't give for one night with him, for the chance to finally live out all her fantasies.
Seduce him.
How could she resist? He was everything she'd ever wanted, and there was no denying his attraction to her—not when his erection was so clearly outlined by his jeans. Her skin felt sensitive as she stood up and moved directly in front of Dominic. He couldn't back up without conceding defeat, and she relished being so close to the heat of his body, to all those delicious muscles. Waves of heat pulsated between her legs and delicious shivers worked their way up her spine.
She held the wineglass between her br**sts. "Come and get it."
A sharp pain split Dominic's temple. If it had been anyone else, he would have sworn that she was trying to seduce him. But Melissa? No way.
Her words had to be innocent, but his mind kept turning them around until he couldn't keep things straight anymore. Lord, if she only knew exactly what he wanted to come and get.
Her br**sts were rapidly rising and falling, and the red wine nearly sloshed over the glass and onto her soft skin. Just thinking about it made him nearly blow right there in his pants. Hell, he could reach out and rip her dress off in seconds. And then she'd be naked and his for the taking.
He was losing the battle between right and wrong. They were blurring together, tempting him to find out if her thighs were as soft as they looked. He was this close to pulling her against him, to getting his hands on her. All over her.
He clenched his jaw and reached for the glass. But she was standing so close that his wrist rubbed up against her br**sts, and her nipple beaded against him. He wrapped his fingers around hers on the stem of the glass, but he was so hard he couldn't control a damn thing anymore. Wine splashed out of the glass, rolling down into her cle**age. God, how he wanted to lick it from her skin in long strokes.
"This is my favorite dress," she whispered. "1 need to get the stain out before it sets."
Then she stripped off her dress and stood in his living room wearing the sexiest black-and-red lingerie he'd ever seen.
Dominic couldn't take his eyes off her. He'd never been so attracted to a woman, never seen anyone so beautiful. His fingers itched to stroke her skin, to undo the clasp at her back, to slide her panties down her thighs and watch them fall to the rug.