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He shrugged, all innocent. “I couldn’t think of a better comparison.”
“I’m pretty sure there are better ones, but okay.”
She tightened her hands around the padded leather top of the club. “Like this?”
Montez stepped closer and heat radiated from his body to hers as he placed his hand over her fingers. “More like this,” he said, adjusting her grip.
The contact sent a bolt of electricity shooting under her skin, which reminded her of how he’d pinned both her hands together on the mattress, his big hand forceful and strong as he held her down.
“Next, we need to make sure you have the right stance.” Using his club, Montez demonstrated the right posture and how to align the club with the ball. Then he showed her how to do a proper swing with a smooth follow-through, biceps flexing with the movement.
“Want to give it a try?” he asked.
“Show me one more time,” she said.
She watched him again, listening to the explanation of how she should position her body. This time he hit the ball, and it soared in the air, a thing of beauty.
“Okay, I’m ready.” Desiree took a deep breath and copied his stance as best she could remember.
Montez placed his hands on her hips and shifted her body ever so slightly. His touch made her pulse jump to life, and she swallowed to stay calm.
“Try to swing now,” he instructed.
How was she supposed to concentrate on proper positions and hitting the ball with him behind her? Which of course reminded her of the second time they had sex, and he was…behindher.
“Concentrate, girl. This is important,” she quietly chided.
“What did you say, I didn’t hear you?”
“Nothing. Giving myself a pep talk, that’s all.” Taking a deep breath, Desire swung the club—and missed. “Shit.”
“That’s okay. Focus and try again.”
Focus.
She shifted her body into position.
“Tighten your grip and straighten that spine a little,” Montez coached.
She did as he asked and then swung. This time she made contact, and the blow vibrated up her arm. The ball shot off the tee and landed a short distance down the green with a soft thump.
She turned startled eyes at him. “Ohmigod, did you see that?” she squealed.
He grinned and applauded. “Well done. Pretty good for a beginner. But can you do it again?”
“Hell, yeah. At least, I want to try.” Confidence bolstered, Desiree squared her shoulders. She positioned her body according to his instructions, swung the club at the tee, and sent the ball in a soaring arc over the green.
“Yes!” She pumped her fist and turned to him for approval.
“Well done.”
“I had a good teacher,” she said in a quiet voice.
Montez spent the next hour explaining the rules of the game and walked through the basics of play, offering corrections and words of encouragement in a soothing tone. Every time he shifted her position or brushed her with his fingers, sparks of heat blistered her skin and remained long after they no longer touched.
As the lesson continued, the sun descended and the lights at the range came on and bathed them in an amber glow. Desiree’s confidence increased with every swing, and from time to time her laughter mingled with Montez’s as they shared light-hearted banter.
By the time they finished, she felt much more confident than when they arrived and ready to match up against Royce.
