Free Repressed (Deadly Secrets) by Elisabeth Naughton

waved her back. “Try again.”
    A devious smile curled her mouth. Her top teeth sank into her bottom lip as she contemplated which direction to go. Finally, she darted to the right, but he anticipated the movement and blocked her path. She swiveled the other direction like an NFL pro before his momentum could correct itself, and sailed past him into the end zone.
    Samantha spiked the ball into the grass, lifted her hands above her head, and did a little victory dance that sent a wicked shot of arousal straight to Ethan’s groin. Muscles flexed in her thighs beneath the linen slacks as she turned in a slow circle. And even through the baggy sweatshirt she wore, he could see the swell of her breasts pushing against the gray fabric.
    Damn, but he wished she’d get hot and take off that sweatshirt so he could see the rest of her. Wished he could take off what was below it as well.
    Clearing his throat, he somehow managed to say, “My turn.”
    “Twenty-yard line.” She picked up the ball and pitched it to him, that cocky grin of hers lighting up her entire face. “No cheating.”
    And, oh man. Yeah. He was in trouble here. Because he really liked that commanding teacher voice of hers, telling him what to do.
    Ethan eased back, slapped the ball, and took off running. Samantha shifted forward, shuffling to the side to block him. Out of nowhere she charged, lowered her shoulder, and hit him square in the chest.
    The air whooshed out of his lungs. He sailed back and hit the ground with a grunt. His hands fell out to his sides. The ball rolled from his fingers across the cool grass.
    “Oh my God.” Her adorable laughter echoed in the air. She crawled across the grass until her face hovered just above his. Tantalizing curls tickled his cheeks while the arousing scents of lavender and vanilla floated around him. “Are you okay?”
    His mouth opened, but no sound came out. He felt like he’d just been hit by a truck. A really sexy truck.
    “Ethan?”
    “Am I . . . dead?”
    “No. Do you feel dead?”
    “I’m not sure. Angels are supposed be gentle.” He blinked several times. Was pretty sure he could see stars, and not just from getting the wind knocked out of him. “They aren’t supposed to knock you on your ass.”
    “The blow obviously didn’t knock that charming wit out of you.” She eased back and reached for his hand. “Here, let me help you up.”
    Her palm slid against his, and warmth encircled his fingers everywhere she touched.
    “Sorry,” she managed between victorious giggles. “But I warned you not to mess with me.”
    She had, hadn’t she? His gaze swept over her face in the lights from his car. This woman was reorganizing his priorities, making him think of things other than the reason he was in this town. And even though something in the back of his mind said that might not be a good thing, he didn’t want to listen. He just wanted to get to know her better.
    “Next time I’ll listen.” He pushed up off the grass. “I think I need to rest and reclaim my manhood. You hungry?”
    She rose and followed him across the field toward the car. “I think I worked up an appetite.”
    Ethan opened the driver’s side door and flipped on the stereo. Music wafted through the open windows, the strum of a guitar drifting in the air. He grabbed the bag of deli sandwiches, popped the top off two beers, and joined her near the hood.
    Her cheeks grew pink as he handed her a bottle. “We can’t drink on school grounds.”
    That shocked and prim voice, in direct contrast to the domineering teacher voice he’d heard her use earlier, sent heat careening through his whole body. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”
    He took a long pull from the bottle, set it at his feet, and handed her a sandwich as he leaned against the car, waiting for her to join him.
    “I could get fired for having alcohol on campus.”
    He glanced around the empty field and parking lot. “I don’t see anyone but you and me.” When