Marie Donovan - The Bad Boy's Redemption - Too Much of a Good Thing? / Her Last Line of Defence / Her Hard to Resist Husband

Will stepped in front of her and pushed her back against the wall. He placed a palm on the wall next to her head and loomed over her. ‘My problem? You’re about to get fifteen guys naked and the only one I want you to see naked is me. That’s my problem. I’m frustrated and as horny as hell. That’s another problem. I don’t care if this is your job. I. Don’t. Like. It.’

It was the first time she’d seen Will totally stripped of the cloak of control he constantly wore. His eyes were full of misery and frustration. His body was clenched with tension. He looked almost unhinged.

Over her being surrounded by hot, buff men... Well, shoot!

As much as she wanted to smash her mouth against his and be kissed by this out-of-control Will, she had a job to do—a job that was important to her. The other rugby franchises, as Kelby had told her, were hiring big-name photographers to capture their images for the calendar, but he had faith in her that she wouldn’t let their side down.

She had no intention of doing that, but she couldn’t do it with Will hovering like an angry tornado; he’d make the players tense, they wouldn’t relax while he was watching over them, and she wouldn’t be able to function. She had to get rid of him. Yet she knew that nothing shy of a dynamite stick would get him to leave.

So Lu stood on her tiptoes, slammed her mouth against his and slid her tongue into his mouth. Her kiss was open-mouthed and hot enough to drain all the blood from his brain...just what she needed. It took all her will-power to step away before Will caught her in his grip and wouldn’t let her go.

Stepping back quickly, she gave him a quick salute, slipped through the door to the gym, slammed it closed and turned the lock. Ignoring his furious fist pounding against the door, she walked back inside and went to the box she’d carried in earlier and yanked out an i-Pod and external speakers.

‘Who wants music?’ she asked loudly.

‘Yes! But a drink would be better!’ Matt responded above a chorus of approval and whistles.

Lu grinned as she pulled two bottles of tequila from the box and waved them in the air. ‘I also think this would be a lot easier with a couple of shots. There are quite a few bottles, so don’t be shy. But we’d better get slammed before Mr Grumpy breaks down the door!’

* * *

Lu, dressed in a brief pair of cycling shorts, a crop top and trainers, stood in front of the punching bag in the empty Rays gym and looked down at the small pair of boxing gloves that Will had just tied onto her hands.

‘I tried to book a private lesson for you at a Thai kickboxing school with one of Kelby’s mates who is an instructor, but they have a couple of cage fights coming up so he’s swamped,’ Will told her, dropping her hands. He stepped away from her to get some distance. She was wearing little more than underwear, and his boys weren’t making the distinction between gym clothes and lingerie.

It had been a week since he’d held her in his arms, and he’d never be able to look at the sea again without remembering how responsive she’d been to his touch. He’d had a lot of sex over the years, but even the thought of Lu far exceeded the hottest, craziest sex he’d had before.

It was shocking to realise that he, King of Brief Flings, could think like this. He was a rational adult male. He knew that great sex never lasted for ever. It went from great to good, then to OK, and then it faded to blah and then to mechanical.

It would happen even with Lu.

Lu interrupted his thoughts. ‘Right—gloves on, punch bag waiting.’

Her small hand ploughed into the bag and it drifted ever so slightly. ‘That wasn’t so good.’ She frowned. ‘When you hit it, it swings!’

Will grinned. ‘That’s because I’m lot stronger than you and also because you punch like a girl.’

‘Fist into bag. That was a punch,’ Lu protested.

‘A girl punch. You need to put some body weight behind it,’ Will told her. ‘Stand with your feet shoulder width apart, bend your knees. OK, good. Make a loose fist with each hand and lift, elbows straight out behind you. That’s it. Now, push off with your back foot and rotate your wrist and shoulder as you throw the punch.’ Will watched as her fist connected with the bag and rocked. ‘Better than before.’

‘This is hard,’ Lu muttered as she tried again.

‘Keep your wrist straight. Push off your back foot.’ Girl punching still, Will thought, but, seeing the determined look on her face, he knew that she would get it right if it killed her. Lu, he was coming to realise, had the determination of a dung beetle and the stubbornness of a mule.

‘When do I learn to kick?’ Lu demanded, huffing.

‘When you’ve learned how to punch,’ Will told her. ‘Keep your other hand up to guard your face. Don’t leave your face vulnerable to attack.’

‘Who’s going to hit me?’ Lu demanded.

‘If you are going to learn, then do it properly.’

Lu pulled a tongue at him and rocketed her fist into the bag , making it sway harder than before.

‘Better.’

After twenty minutes Lu rested her hands on her thighs and looked up at the bag. ‘I could’ve done with one of these when my folks died.’

It was the first time she’d willingly mentioned their death and Will fought not to react, waiting for her to talk. ‘There were days when I was so sad and so angry that I used to punch my bed. This is better.’

Will walked over to the fridge next to the mat, pulled out a bottle of water, cracked the lid and held it to Lu’s lips. She drank and sank to the mat, crossing her legs as she sat down.

Will joined her and they sat in silence for a while before he asked another question that he’d been wondering about. ‘Who told you? About the accident?’

‘Mak. He was our next-door neighbour at the time.’

‘How did you cope?’ Will asked.

‘What do you mean?’ Lu asked, giving him a blank look.

‘Lu, you were a teenager and suddenly responsible for two kids. How did you deal with your parents’ deaths? With having your life splattered against a wall?’

Lu was silent for a long time, her eyes on her shoes. ‘Strange...nobody has ever asked me that before.’

‘You’re kidding?’

She bit her bottom lip. ‘Nope. People would ask if I was OK but would barely wait for an answer before demanding to know how the twins were coping, whether they were getting counseling, how sad it was that they were orphaned so young.’

Will’s heart cracked at the pain coating her words. ‘You were also orphaned.’

‘But I wasn’t eight and blond and cute,’ Lu replied.

‘So how did you cope?’ Will repeated his question.

Lu shrugged. ‘I don’t know, actually. The first six months were a bit of a blur. We cried a lot. I remember that. I also remember doing a lot of exercise with the boys—playing soccer with them, taking them to the beach, making them as tired as possible so that we could all just sleep without dreaming, trying to avoid the nightmares.’

‘The boys had nightmares?’

‘Not so much.’

‘You?’

‘Constantly.’

Will lifted his hand and rubbed his thumb along one prominent cheekbone, then he brushed the violet shadows under her eyes. ‘Are the nightmares back, Lu?’

‘No.’

‘But you’re not sleeping?’ He could see the start of a lie, an excuse, then saw her pull it back and opt for the truth.

‘No, not much.’

Will knew that he wasn’t stupid when it came to women; he knew that Lu was thinking. She just wasn’t as good at hiding it as he was. He’d noticed the way her eyes lingered on his lips, caught the shudder of attraction when he brushed past her. He suspected that, like him, she lay awake at night remembering the feel of naked skin, the warmth of lips and the heat of hands.