Prologue
February
"Jesus fucking Christ, Flyboy." Alyssa flopped back on the bed. "Are you trying to kill me?"
Chuckling, Jack landed face down beside her. "No need for formalities. Just call me Flyboy."
"Ha. Ha." She couldn't even summon the energy to give him a shove. Her body was covered in sweat and her breath sawed in and out of her lungs like blunt razor blades stabbing at her chest. The thump of each burst of air reverberated through her and rasped in her ears, drowning out the pounding of her heart which she was pretty sure was racing at warp speed in the back of her skull. "Accusation. Stands."
"Oh, come on." Jack's breaths weren't anywhere near as labored as hers. The bastard. "You can handle it. You're tough."
"Yeah, I'm tough, but I'm beginning to think I'm not marathon tough."
"You will be."
Right now, she doubted it. Finally able to draw in a full, if not comfortable breath, she rolled to the side and eyed the man next to her. The ten-mile run they'd just finished might have gotten her heart pumping and lungs struggling but Jack could ramp up her pulse and leave her breathless just from looking at him. "Remind me again why I let you talk me into this."
"Hey, it wasn't my idea," he mumbled into the bedding, eyes closed, face glistening with a sheen of sweat. At least he wasn't completely unaffected.
Unable to stop herself, her gaze trailed lower. His bare back rose and fell with each non-labored breath he took, drawing her eyes further down his muscled torso to the tight rear-end encased in equally tight running shorts.
God. He was gorgeous.
"Hmm..." The whole marathon thinghadbeen her idea and for the life of her she couldn't remember why she'd thought it was a good one. Although getting to see a shirtless, sweaty Jack might have been her motive. He was a leanly muscled feast for the eyes in clothes. Out of them he could get her tingling and drooling and itching to get her hands on him in a way that at times scraped her raw.
Two years they'd known each other, and between working together and hanging out after hours, they'd formed a friendship Alyssa counted as one of her closest.
Except about ten months ago something changed. She couldn't pinpoint what it was or which one of them initiated it, but they'd gone from friends to lovers with an easy slide that hadn't delivered the tension and incompatibility she'd experienced in the past.
"Shower." He pushed up on straight arms, the rippling muscles in his biceps and triceps making her mouth water, and locked eyes with her. "Come on, lazy-ass, up you get."
She didn't think she could move yet. Hell, she'd barely managed to turn on her side. "Soon."
Jack gave her a grin that sent a ripple of anticipation through her.
She knew that grin. He used it on her right before he talked her out of her clothes.
"Jack." Before she'd finished saying his name he was on his feet and scooping her up in his arms. "Jack!"
Laughing, he held her tighter to contain her struggles, and strode out of her bedroom. "It's only fair I help get you clean seeing how I helped get you dirty," he said with an exaggerated eyebrow waggle and wink.
She shivered at the blaze of lust in his eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck. There was no point protesting. He usually got his way and really, it wasn't like showering with Jack was unpleasant. Far from it. Getting wet with Jack meant naked bodies, slippery hands, and a whole lot of heat.
"I love it when you do as you're told."
"You're not exactly giving me a choice."
"Ha! We both know you could get away if you wanted to."
He was right. She could. And with anybody else she would have. She still couldn't work out why she gave in to Jack so easily.
Oh, right. Orgasms.
Mind-blowing orgasms.
Mind-blowingmultipleorgasms.
The man delivered them with a skill she'd never encountered. And a regularity that had been missing from her life in recent years.
