Free Tap Out by Michele Mannon

Thinking I’ll put those dirty lips to good use.”
    She raised her chin and stared at the door. Clearly, the fighter hadn’t gotten her hands-off-meathead message. Annoying, and a tad disturbing, that he’d come knocking at this late hour.
    Caden made a noise and, feeling his stare, her attention shifted to his face. He looked at her so hard her stomach did a cartwheel. For a moment, they stood like that. Eyes locked, him growing more furious by the second, so obviously so her breath hitched, mid-cartwheel. His jaw clenched, and for the first time, she caught a glimpse of the fighter within him. His hand found the knob, and he yanked it open.
    Then, he was gone.
    “Hey, what the shit! Where did you come—?”
    Sophie jumped as something smashed against the outside wall. The pounding of fists connecting with flesh—a sound she was well acquainted with after her earlier encounter with Jaysin—lasted for a good minute.
    A voice broke the silence. “Man, you’re done. Come on. I’ll help you walk.” The shuffle of footsteps on carpet followed.
    Sophie moved over to the table by the window on the far side of the room, unsure of what had just transpired out in the hallway, and just as unsure about what was headed her way. Her stomach rolled and her hands shook, sloshing the remaining juice dangerously close to her blouse.
    An Italian leather wallet had been casually tossed on the glass tabletop. Next to it was a set of keys with a Luxury Car Rentals Inc. tag on it. Dang it. Caden was smarter than she’d given him credit for. Clearly, he had no intentions of riding on the tour bus.
    And clearly, she needed another drink.
    Dropping the shaking tray onto the table, she grabbed the tequila, twisted off the cap, and filled a glass. Hey, opportunity knocked, right? And Sophie wasn’t one to pass on one, however unexpected it was. Tonight, she’d have to work her magic on Caden, just like she’d done with hundreds of other celebrities.
    With her mind made up, she poured a second glass—a peace offering in the face of adversity.
    She felt the warm burn of tequila on her throat as she swallowed deeply, listening to the soft tread of his bare feet on the carpet as the door closed and he approached.
    His reddened fingers wrapped around the glass she offered, but he set it on the table without taking a sip. She noted the rise and fall of his breath, how normal it seemed. No physical signs that he’d just clobbered old bughead outside in the hallway.
    No man had the right to be this beautiful, with light green eyes framed by long, dark eyelashes. High, chiseled cheekbones drew the eye downward to a set of full, sensuous lips. Heck, his billboard didn’t do him justice. Though the part of him most prominently featured on it was mercifully tucked away. And Sophie didn’t dare sneak a peek in that direction.
    Caden licked his bottom lip and turned to stare at her. She wondered if he noticed the sudden flush in her cheeks. His eyes lingered on her face, then raked over her messy clothing.
    Her cheeks were now ablaze with humiliation, and...no... holy crapola . Her belly felt warm. And a raging inferno had sparked in her happy place.
    I’m never drinking tequila again .
    He let out a low whistle. “Sweetheart, you’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? Here, I’d been imagining you in a little red number.”
    His gaze lowered, and lowered further, coming to rest on her mismatched shoes.
    Sophie wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, but she’d take sarcasm over anger any day. “You know what they say,” she murmured, hoping she sounded nonchalant, as if this situation wasn’t awkward in the least. “Variety is the spice of life.”
    Dang-diggity . Talk about poor word choice. She was forgetting who was dealing with—his sex life was probably spicier than a slice of jalapeño pie. Sophie shifted, the thought throwing her off her game before she slammed it back into the recesses of her mind.
    “You don’t say,” Caden