Free Offensive Behavior (Sidelined #1) by Ainslie Paton

jobs dried up. Lou has been good to
me. This job keeps the rent paid, feeds me, my mother and daughter, and gives
me enough left over to buy books. I could do worse.”
    Lux
played with the zipper end on her hoodie, her eyes down; she made no move to take
her turn. He needed Sarina on speed dial and a dozen more of her inane but
magic questions if he was going to connect with Lux, if he was going to learn
her real name before they all turned into pumpkins.
    Then
she looked up. “You tell me, Reid.”
    He
grinned while the others made ooh, ahh sounds. He freaking loved the way his
name sounded coming from her mouth, that was a fantasy fulfilled right there. He’d
like to make her shout it. Jesus Christ, to be close to her, to think he could
make her feel about him like he felt about her.
    Someone
said, “That shut him up.”
    It was
in every line of her body, every thrilling spin and thrust and stretch, every
impossible position and improbable pose. She loved it. But she’d trapped him
into speaking for her, into acting like his opinion came before hers, into his
usual offensive, he knew best behavior.
    Not
this time.
    “I don’t
know how you feel about it, but I know how you make me feel.”
    More
catcalling and Vi’s elbow in his ribs. The hint of a smile that threatened on
Lux’s lovely face went Defcon. The force of it hit his chest, hitched his
breath and prickled his throat.
    She
smiled all the way to her eyes. “How do I make you feel?”
    He
leaned forward, because he wanted her to know what she did to him. Made him
want to dive across the table to be close to her. “Like you could teach me to
fly.”
    Lux
didn’t break eye contact. Reid hardly dared to breathe.
    Lizabeth
said, “You two should so get a room.”

 
    EIGHT
     
    They’d taken everyone else home, now it was the two of them. Zarley
had no excuse to sit snug in the shelter of Reid’s body in the back of the SUV.
She sat on one side, Reid on the other, a huge expanse of leather between them.
It seemed like a tragic misuse of resources.
    “We can
drop me off first,” he said.
    She
wasn’t worried about him seeing where she lived anymore. He might come off like
a man who held his ground, who you had to skirt around, but she had the
impression that if she hip-checked him he’d fold at her feet.
    “I’m
closer, and I am the Black Widow when I’m not a pole dancer so I think it will
be okay for you to know what street I live in.” She scooted over that leather
wasteland to speak to the driver between the seats. Then she simply stayed in
that halfway position, where she could look closer at Reid, where she could
enjoy the way he looked at her.
    Like
she was somebody he wanted and was scared to try for.
    It made
her feel tense in a good, blood rushing, gut squirming, toe curling way, in a
way she hadn’t felt in a while. It made her feel powerful in a way she only
felt on stage.
    Maybe
they should get a room.
    She
watched his chest rise and fall, too quickly to peg him as relaxed. He wore a
white business shirt with the cuffs turned back to show his long-boned forearms.
Black jeans didn’t disguise the muscle of his thighs and she’d already had a
preview of how his pants framed his tight ass. He needed a haircut, but the
shaggy look suited him. He wasn’t smiling. He’d had one hand clasped around his
kneecap, but now he flattened it on the seat between them as though he’d
intended to reach for her and thought better of it at the last moment.
    She put
her hand on the seat beside his, almost touching. He twitched. She watched his
face, his eyes, going to their hands, then bouncing back to hers. She licked
her lips and he grunted softly. This big, strange, aggressive, opinionated, not
good at taking no for an answer man, was waiting for her to make the first
move.
    She really
should thank him for breakfast, remind him of his promise to quit Lucky’s and
get out of the car he’d hired. That was the way to avoid trouble and