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  Turning, she started for the door but Trevor was there reorganizing a table of slip on sneakers.

  “Didn't find anything?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  “Really? Out of all these shoes...” He glanced around and then his gaze zeroed in on her feet. Inch by inch he surveyed her legs and she thanked the powers that be that told her to wear the black knee length skirt today. And that she’d shaved this morning.

  When his eyes skimmed over her hips she resisted the urge to straighten her blouse. But then those sinful blue eyes lingered on her breasts and she felt them swell. Her nipples hardened as if he was actually touching them, and she crossed her arms beneath her chest.

  His perusal didn't last long, no more than a few seconds but he was thorough. Very thorough. And her body reacted to him, to his incredible size and obvious strength and dashing good looks. Her breathing grew slightly labored, almost shallow by the time his gaze locked with hers.

  Unadulterated interest was etched into his face and she licked her lips nervously.

  “You're a runner,” he declared quietly, sounding sure of himself and pleased with the discovery.

  She nodded.

  “Are you sure there's nothing I can show you? Maybe you'll find something that fits perfectly.”

  For a brief moment she thought he was making an innuendo. Of course there was something he could show her, and heaven help her, she'd been waiting for years to see how it fit.

  Heat flared across her cheeks. God, if he only knew what she'd been thinking.

  “How about this one? There's even a thirty percent off sale.” He held out a backless black and pink sneaker. Unable to help herself, she took it from him and studied it. Flipping it over, she glanced at the price. Twenty five, with a thirty percent off coupon. It was cute and looked like a comfortable knock-around shoe, so she nodded.

  “Seven and a half?” he guessed.

  She cocked her head to the side and looked at him, then smiled.

  “You must see a lot of feet.” That made her wonder just how long he’d been working here to be able to size her up so quickly.

  The corners of that come-here-and-kiss-me-mouth turned up and then he headed for the back room. Damn. He was still so graceful for a man his size. And she was still tingling.

  She took a seat in a nearby chair and crossed her legs at the ankles. Why were there butterflies doing a break dance in her stomach? It wasn't like she'd never had a good looking man smile at her before. Hell, this good looking man had smiled at her before. Dozens of times.

  But she hadn't felt this heart stopping, stomach tingling excitement before. Or was it nervousness? She hadn't felt that either.

  “Here you go. Seven and a half.” Before she could move, he squatted down in front of her, wrapped a large warm hand around her left leg. His palm slid down to her ankle, awakening every nerve ending along the way, and lifted her foot. His other hand slipped off her ballet flat and she sucked in a breath. The sight was a study in contrast, his skin so much more tanned than hers.

  Sensual awareness shot up her legs, bounced around inside her, and then settled heavily in her womb. Her clit actually throbbed, oh-so-ready for his touch. She blinked, hardly able to believe how strong her response was. He could just slide his hands up over her knees, past the hem of her skirt...

  She mentally shook herself and stared at the man before her. If she wasn't mistaken he was thinking about the very same thing. Shamelessly, her knees fell apart, a fraction of an inch, but a fraction nonetheless. A fraction that gave him a better view, if the look on his face was any indication.

  Thank God she’d followed rule number one.

  A muffled door chime sounded and his head whipped toward the door. Hers did the same and heat crept into her cheeks again. Good grief, what was she thinking? Another customer had just walked in and here she was ready to spread her legs for a man she hadn't seen in over a year. A man who likely didn't even remember her name.

  She snapped her knees shut and glanced at the shoe box on the floor. His gaze followed hers and then he reached for the box. Retrieving the shoe, he slipped it onto her foot. For the briefest of instants she felt very Cinderella-esque. A delicious feeling, hopelessly romantic and thoroughly silly, made her giddy.

  Then he slipped off her other flat and replaced it with the other backless sneaker. Heaven help her, he had warm hands. And her feet were freezing, not that that was anything new. He must think she was made of ice.

  “Test ‘em out.” He stood and held out his hand. She swallowed hard and placed her palm in his.

  Very warm. Very big. He pulled her up. Very strong.

  And he smelled good. Clean, like soap and detergent mixed with shaving cream. Her insides clenched again.

  “I'll be right back,” he said and let her hand drop. He moved off to help the other customer and she walked around. Very comfortable.

  The shoes gripped her feet, provided comfort and stability without being too rigid. Not bad for twenty five bucks.

  She'd just decided to get them when the other customer left.

  “Sorry about that,” he said. She had to look way up to meet his gaze. The sigh on her lips was involuntary but totally appropriate. Gracious, he was handsome. More handsome than she remembered. He’d cut his hair a little shorter but everything else, his size, intensity, potency was just as she remembered.

  She licked her lips and tried to form a coherent thought. “No problem. I love these.” She pointed a toe and dropped her gaze to admire the shoe.

  “Great.” He dragged his gaze up from her feet and they stared at each other as he searched her face. “You look familiar.”

  She smiled. “I’m surprised you recognized me. I interviewed you six years ago.”

  He visibly stiffened and his easy going charm vanished. “How did you find out I was here?”

  His defensiveness would have put her on the offense except he looked so vulnerable. So she grinned up at him. “Sorry gorgeous, but I'm not here for you. I'm in town for the game.”

  “And you just happened to walk into my cousin's store where I'm working for the week?” He sounded doubtful.

  “Actually, I came in here because someone stole nine hundred dollars from my bank account and used it to buy shoes at this store,” she said, feeling her irritation flood back.

  Deep creases bracketed his handsome mouth. Hands on his hips, he stared her down. “Nice try, lady.”

  He didn't believe her. Arrogant, gorgeous jerk.

  She marched over to the chair and put the sneakers back into their box. Then she slipped on her ballet flats and slung her purse over her shoulder. Picking up the box, she headed for the counter.

  He looked baffled as he circled around to the register and scanned the bar code.

  “Who the hell buys nine hundred dollars’ worth of sneakers? I mean, if you're going to steal my money, at least buy something awesome...like Prada. Or Minolos. Or Jimmy Choos.” She sighed wistfully, expecting him to crack a smile but his frown stayed firmly in place.

  “I'm not giving you an interview.”

  “I don't want an interview. I want my money back.”

  “I don't have your money.”

  “Someone here has my money. My bank is looking into it. Then you'll be out of the money and the product.”

  “Why are you here if you don't want an interview and your bank is looking into it?”

  She thought about his question for a few seconds.

  “I've been eating salad and noodles for the last week thanks to whoever stole from me. So when I got sent to New York this weekend it seemed like serendipity, I suppose. I wanted to see the scene of the crime. I see you have surveillance cameras. I'll mention it to the bank.”

  He braced his hands on the counter and his biceps bulged in a way that made her wet. Those gorgeous blue eyes turned icy as he glared down at her. He looked so formidable that she almost took a step back. Almost. But she’d grown up in a house full of alpha males
and she’d learned to hold her ground.

  “Are you trying to start trouble?”

  She put her hands on the counter and glared right back up at him. “No. Why are you being so ornery?”

  “I'm being ornery?” He pointed his finger at her and huffed out a breath. “Listen lady—”

  She narrowed her gaze on his finger. “Don't point your finger at me you big baboon.”

  He dropped his finger, gave a frustrated sigh and uttered an apology. Running his fingers through his hair, he stalked toward the door that led to the back room.

  The chime sounded again. He called out a greeting and then glanced back at her. As if he was worried she’d create a scene, he nodded toward the open door behind him. “Come here.”

  The words sounded more like a growl than a request. But something in his voice, or maybe it was the set of his shoulders, made her do his bidding.

  He reached for her arm and gently tugged her into the storage area. The touch shot through her awakening any parts he hadn’t already kicked out of dormancy with his smile.

  “I'm really not here to do a story on you. Your life is your life. I just want my money back. And barring that…” She glanced toward the door. “And those shoes.” She offered him what he hoped was a warm smile.

  “If you're lying to me—”

  So much for trying the sweet-talking Southern route.

  JJ nixed the smile, put her hands on her hips and stared him down. “Just ring up my shoes please. Then I'll be out of your hair.”

  He searched her face. She saw his hands close at his sides, flex, and close again. How many times had she fantasized about those same hands and what they could do to her body? How much pleasure they could bring, teasing her nipples, fingering her until she was begging him to let her come…

  She glanced up at his face again. What was he wrestling with?

  And if he didn’t trust her, why was he staring at her lips the way a man dying of thirst stared at a glass of water?

  Then in a lightning fast move that had made him a legend on the field, he wrapped his big hands around her waist and hauled her against him. Her breasts crushed against the solid wall of his upper abs and their thighs collided.

  Gasping, her hands settled against his chest. The man was built. And ridiculously warm.

  Staring up to meet his gaze she licked her lips. If he was hoping to startle a confession out of her, he’d be waiting a hell of a long time. But if he wanted to hear her beg…

  He stared right back. The voice in the back of her mind whispered for her to kiss him. Finally find out what all the fuss was about and verify that he’d been worth every naughty fantasy she’d ever had about him.

  As if the invisible force holding them apart snapped, she stretched up and he bent down, their lips meeting in the middle.

  Her eyes drifted shut and her breath stalled in her throat. His kiss was hot, firm, rough. Yep, everything she'd always fantasized about. And like him, bigger and bolder than her ordinary ho-hum life. She thrust a hand through his hair, needing to be closer. His tongue speared between her lips and everything feminine inside her melted. She melted. Against him, into him, beneath his hot hands that seared through the thin fabric of her blouse.

  Oh God. He felt so good. Getting lost in his kiss felt so good. So right.

  As if suddenly realizing how much time they’d wasted over the years, his big hands moved to the buttons on her blouse, fumbling to get them out of the holes. She couldn’t be sure but she thought he was trembling.

  That brought out her bolder side. The idea that this man, the man who'd run eighty yards to score the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl, could be unsteady, that there'd be any vulnerability in him whatsoever was awe inspiring.

  JJ dropped her purse to the ground and then sucked on his tongue. His hands stopped their course as he groaned. But he quickly returned to the job, freeing her from her silken prison. After tugging the shirt out of her skirt he splayed his fingers around her waist again, making her feel small and feminine. Then, almost reverently, he slid his hands north and cupped her breasts, testing their weight, tracing the scalloped trim with his fingertips.

  Her knees knocked together as he pinched the stiffened peaks. “Oh...” She gasped for breath, feeling a little light headed.

  Trevor seemed to know instinctively what she needed and how very wet he was making her. He turned and her back met a metal shelving unit. She winced at the pain between her shoulder blades but didn’t stop trailing her fingers through his hair.

  With his big body holding her there, locked in place, his thumbs continued to torment her nipples with slow circles and steady pressure.

  When his lips moved down her jaw, chill bumps coursed over her skin like wildfire. She shivered against him, clutching him to her. He licked the hollow of her throat and she let out an honest-to-God whimper. Gracious, what was he doing to her?

  “You taste like sugar,” he murmured against her skin. “You know what my favorite carnival food is?”

  His lips nibbled their way back up to her ear. Oh my—

  “Funnel cake?”

  “Cotton candy. A mix of the pink and the blue.”

  “Sounds sweet. Ahh...” He bit her earlobe gently, tugging just hard enough to bring another flood of moisture between her thighs. At this rate her panties would be soaked before he even got them off her.

  “You taste sweeter than you look.”

  “Gee thanks.” She slid her hands down the solid wall of his chest, relishing each wonderful muscle. After all this time, she was finally able to touch him.

  “Have you seen yourself lately?” he whispered. “As much as I hate to admit it, I know a thing or two about women's lingerie.”

  JJ's temper spiked. “I'll just bet you do.” She pushed him away but he barely moved.

  “Seriously.” He leaned back just far enough to stare down at her breasts. “Black lingerie. Scalloped edges. I can almost see through the cups, beautiful. A sweet woman does not wear underwear like this.”

  She raised an eyebrow at his assessment. Did that make her a bad girl? She supposed there was a case for that considering her current circumstances.

  “It makes me wonder...” He trailed a finger down the valley between her breasts. “…if you're wearing matching panties.”

  The look in his eyes was pure mischief. She forgot all about her temper as a sultry smile curved her lips. If she was going to be bad...she might as well go all the way.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Well...you could wonder,” she told him, walking her fingers down to the button of his jeans. She wet her lips again. It took all her courage to force the naughty words between her lips and finish the sentence. “Or, you could see for yourself.”

  He groaned and dipped his head, kissing her again. The evidence of his desire lay thick and snug between them. Hot and heavy, he took and she gave. Her hands tugged his T-shirt, freeing it from his jeans and then she shoved her hands beneath. His skin was softer than she’d imagined and hot. Mercy, so hot. She soaked up his warmth, memorizing the feel of all those rock solid muscles rippling beneath her fingertips.

  Suddenly he was pulling back, stepping away from her. When his hands dropped from her waist she fell forward a step.

  Then she heard it. Someone rang the bell on the counter. Trevor sucked in a ragged breath that spoke to just how carried away they’d gotten. His blue eyes positively blazed with passion.

  “I'll—”

  She nodded.

  “Take care of business,” she told him. Then her gaze dropped to his crotch. The tight fitting denim didn’t hide his current condition. Not one little bit.

  She couldn’t help but grin. She’d done that to him. The knowledge sent a jolt of pleasure through her. It was good to have a little power over the man because she found him absolutely magnetic. Deciding to see if she could tease him just a little more, she licked her lips one more time.

  He groaned again and jerked open the button of his jeans.
His fingers moved to his fly and her pulse spiked.

  “Don't get too excited,” he muttered, obviously irritated at the interruption. Then, with jerky movements, he repositioned himself and righted his jeans. The shirt barely hid the bulge. Her smile turned to a smirk. His warning came too late; she was thoroughly excited.

  JJ turned away, afraid that in her current state she'd throw herself into his arms and demand he take her right here and now, other customers be damned. He had a job to do. She mentally repeated the mantra three more times for good measure, taking a deep breath.

  “I'll be back in a minute.” He leaned in so close that his breath tickled the back of her neck. “And when I come back, I’m going to give you a taste of your own medicine, you teasing little temptress.”

  Holy moly; that was one hot visual. Six feet, four inches of prime male with a raging, and by the look of it, very large, hard on. Teasing and tempting her.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw him grab a box from the shelf and hold it in front of his crotch.

  A moment later she heard his deep voice as he spoke with the customer. One minute turned to two. Then three. She walked to the end of the storage room, hands on her cheeks. What had she been thinking? Kissing him like that?

  True, he'd made the first move. But she'd kissed him, just like he'd kissed her. Full on, tongue-on-tongue action. Hell, she'd been waiting to do that with him for years. Since the first moment she'd seen him across the locker room. Since the first interview question. Since she'd seen him standing behind the counter of this shoe store.

  No, there was no lack of desire on her part.

  But here? Now? In the back of his cousin's shoe store? When he was on the clock and she was in town for her own job?

  Maybe they could meet up later. For dinner. Yes. Dinner sounded good. Sensible.

  But then, was anything about this...no, this wasn't a relationship. She'd spent all of a few hours with this man in her entire life if you added it all up. That wasn't a relationship. Those blissful few hours barely qualified as an acquaintance. No, she'd call it what it was. An affair. A brief affair. A rendezvous.