Jill Shalvis - Aussie Rules

“What the hell was that?” she asked, her voice low and husky. “I mean what the hell?”

“You’re asking me?” Risking life and limb, he fisted one hand at her back, gripping the material of his shirt low on her spine. He sank his other hand into her wet hair, tugging her head back, looking into her eyes…

“All I know,” she said shakily, “is that you need to keep your shirt on always.”

“Why?”

“Like you don’t know how ripped you are.”

“Again,” he decided.

“Um…what?”

“This. Again.” And he kissed her this time.

Harder.

Wetter.

Deeper.

He did it to keep her quiet, because damn, he liked her quiet. He liked her just like this actually, mouth fixed to his, little whimpery pants escaping her as if she couldn’t get enough. Then she sucked his tongue into her mouth and he couldn’t think at all because his heart was going to leap right out of his chest.

Her hands ran up his sides, over his ribs, her fingers sinking into his pecs painfully enough to make him suck in a breath. She tasted hot and sweet and felt even better, and she was wet all over, with a hot little bod he definitely needed more of. He was quite certain there would be a price to pay for this glimpse of pure, unadulterated pleasure, there was always a price, but not caring at the moment, he backed her up to the Hawker, pressed her up against the cool steel and took his mouth on a cruise over her throat. Nudging the shirt off her shoulder wasn’t a problem, and the wet, sheer bra wasn’t, either. He simply tugged it down, groaning when a breast popped out, her nipple pebbled and thrust upward, as if begging for his attention. “Mmm,” rumbled from his chest, and he took it in his mouth.

“Ohmigod.” Mel’s fingers sank into his hair, fisting it, doing her best to make him bald before he hit middle age.

He didn’t care. He sucked hard, then flicked her nipple with his tongue. She gasped, and her head fell back, thunking against the plane, dislodging a few tools she’d set around the opened engine compartment. As they rained to the ground around them, clanging and clattering, Mel jerked, then stared up at him, eyes huge, mouth open as if she needed it that way just to breathe.

God, she looked like heaven standing there, his shirt off her shoulders, caught on her elbows, opened to reveal her breasts, one nipple wet from his mouth. “Mel-”

“This isn’t happening,” she said. “Is. Not. Happening.” Her eyes were dilated, her mouth a little swollen. And he’d left a slight whisker burn on the underside of her jaw that he wanted to press his lips to.

In fact, he did, he leaned in and kissed her there, or tried to, but she slapped a hand to his chest and held him off. “Guess you got another airport quickie,” she said. “Only in the hangar this time, not the closet. Oh, and not with a blonde.”

Wow. Her opinion of him was even lower than he’d thought, and he had to remind himself that he didn’t care. “A quickie implies that I got off.”

She stared at him. “I’m a damn idiot,” she muttered and brushed past him. Hauling open the closet with more force than necessary, she pulled out another set of coveralls, shoving her legs through one at a time while he eyed the peek-a-boo hints he got of her panties and belly as his shirt rose high on her thighs.

“You have three more rusty bolts,” he said. “I could-”

“I can take it from here.”

Of course she could. “Because God forbid you actually lean on someone, right?”

“I lean plenty.”

“Prove it. I know there’s something going on here, Mel. So prove it-lean on me. Let me help.”

She hesitated, as if she just might decide to actually trust him, but in the end she slowly shook her head and walked away, leaving him hot, wet, still turned on…and disappointed. Extremely disappointed.

Wayne took Dimi out to the fanciest restaurant in town, and then they drank and danced for hours before going to a five-star hotel and roughing up the sheets.

So one would think she’d wake up with a smile on her face, but instead she drove into North Beach feeling hungover and…empty.

Intent on getting over herself, she entered the lobby head down, searching through her purse for her favorite lip gloss as she went, then plowed right into Danny. “Oomph,” she said, teetering on her heels.

He put his hands on her hips until she gained her balance, then pulled back immediately, leaving her with the oddest sense of loss.

“Someone on your tail again?” he asked.

She looked into his face, void of its usually friendly smile. He smelled like the coconut wax he’d probably used on his surfboard that morning, and the scent was so familiar she felt a little rush of comfort, despite his distant expression. “No. Thanks.”

“I was going to ask how you are, but let me guess. You’re fantastic, right?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

He gazed at her for a long moment, as if maybe he wanted to say something, but in the end, he simply nodded and let her pass.

She shrugged off the encounter with a big mug of tea and sat at her desk. Because the afternoon before she’d left off in a great part of her book, she dove right back in, and it was thirty minutes before the phone bothered her. After transferring the call to Mel, she sipped her tea and realized someone had left a small box in her top drawer, wrapped in pretty pink paper.

Lifting her head, she looked around. No one. She opened the box and pulled out a small but beautiful candle, decorated with seashells and scented like a glorious summer day. It put a smile on her face as she searched for a card, a signature…nothing.

She looked around again, expecting to see someone watching her-Mel, Char, one of the early-bird customers-but no one was paying her any attention at all.

Hmmm…She lit the candle and went to work. But after a few moments, the smile was gone and worry weeded its way through her as she called Mel’s office.

“Hey,” Mel answered, sounding a little breathless.

Dimi frowned. “What are you doing in there?”

“Eating bonbons and watching Oprah. How about you?”

“Funny. I’m going through the billing.”

“Yeah? About time-”

“Yeah, yeah. Look, it’s a good news-bad news sort of thing. Good news: you’ve got a message from a few of your receivables, money is coming in the mail for Anderson Air. Bad news: somebody else has been here.”

“Customers are good.”

“Stick with me, Mel. Somebody has been in my billings for North Beach.”

Suddenly she had Mel’s full attention. “Doing what?”

“Not sure,” Dimi admitted. “But the date these files were last accessed was yesterday morning, and…”-she hated to admit this-“I haven’t worked on them since the day before yesterday.”

“It was Bo. He told me you’d left your accounting up on the screen when he sat at your desk to help with the phones.”

“To help with the planes, not help himself to my files! Bastard.”

“Yeah. But Dimi, Jesus. You must have left your computer on all night. You can’t leave that stuff up and available to anyone with two eyes.”

“Two eyes, and our deed.” Dimi rubbed the tense spot between her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’m just…stressed.”

“I know.”

“What if he stays?” Dimi asked softly. “What if he fires us? God, Mel, what else could I even do for a job? I’m uniquely suited for nothing!”

“Look, let’s not borrow trouble, okay? We don’t even know if the deed’s legit.”

“Right. It isn’t. It can’t be.”

“Exactly.”

Dimi drew a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll try to maintain. Oh, and thanks for the beautiful candle.”

Mel paused. “Uh…not me.”