Free Night Heat by Brenda Jackson Page A

underfoot if it bit you, Jocelyn. This is underfoot,” he said heatedly, roughly, with more than a tinge of anger. “And yet this isn’t as close as it can get.”
    He leaned in closer and whispered across her lips. “Don’t push me,” he warned huskily. “Especially for all the wrong reasons.”
    She frowned, refusing to back down. “With you there won’t be any right reasons. And if I didn’t make myself clear the first time then I’ll repeat myself. You don’t tell me what to do.”
    Bas inhaled deeply. For some reason she was itching for a fight, but he wasn’t in a mood to accommodate her tonight. And she had no idea how close she was to being thoroughly kissed again. However, with her temper flaring, he knew better than to try it, although he couldn’t stop the images flashing through his mind of all the other things he would lovedoing to her. Since he hadn’t slept with a woman in over eight months he was horny as hell and it wouldn’t take much to tumble her back on that damn sofa and seduce the hell out of her. But he had to remember the key element he’d learned and one he hadn’t grasped during his teen years—discipline. He knew how to pull back and behave properly when he needed to, and this was one of those times.
    His eyes met hers and he gazed into their angry depths. But he was experienced enough to see beyond the anger and notice something else, something she was trying like hell to fight—deep longing, need and heated desire. Those were the last things a man in his predicament needed to see in a woman’s eyes.
    Mustering his self-control and discipline, he took a step back. “Look, it’s been a long and tiring day. How about if we call a truce tonight and go get some sleep, okay?”
    Jocelyn sighed. Although she didn’t like admitting it, Bas was right. It had been a long and tiring day, and having to deal with what Leah had told her had definitely taken a toll. Besides, she heard the weariness in his voice and if sleeping was the only way he got his work/life balance, then she definitely didn’t want to stand in his way.
    â€œOkay, I’ll leave but only because I want to and not because you told me to,” she said, putting away her coloring book and crayons.
    â€œHere, take this. The temperature has dropped quite a bit since you got here,” he said, taking off his jacket and placing it around her shoulders before she had time to protest. But he saw the stubborn set of her chin and the indecision that lit her eyes, and for a moment he wondered if she would snatch his jacket off. He was a little surprised when she said, “Thanks.”
    â€œYou’re welcome.”
    After locking up, they walked to their cars together, neither saying anything. After opening her car door and sliding behind the steering wheel, she was about to remove his jacket when he said, “No, you can keep it. I have another one.”
    When she opened her mouth to say something, he held up his hands and chuckled. “A truce remember? And it’s too late to argue.”
    She nodded. “Fine, but I’ll give it back to you tomorrow.”
    â€œDo whatever you want and drive carefully tonight.”
    Jocelyn watched while he walked to his own car, trying not to notice the way his jeans covered firm, muscular thighs and a too-fine butt. The tingle that suddenly spread through her was so strong that her grip tightened on the steering wheel and her breath whooshed out from her lungs.
    She pulled herself together, and as she switched on the ignition she inhaled deeply to get her breathing back right again. Moments later she noted that he had no intentions of pulling away until she did. Glancing down at the black leather jacket, the one with the strong scent of man, she breathed in deeply once again. She’d had every intention of giving back his jacket when he had first placed it around her