Read Online Mistletoe Match-Up (Romancing Wisconsin #3) by Stacey Joy Netzel - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Stacey Joy Netzel
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downright sassy. Squeaks and grunts permeated the air. Derek prevailed over her next two attempts, tied the score, and went up by one. Victory danced within his grasp.
He’d play defense with her any day. Gave him the chance to bump and grind when she tried to back her way closer to the basket. Lisa pushed hard against his hip block with a loud growl of frustration.
Derek sucked in an aroused breath, and ground back. She gasped. He knocked the ball from her hands and they both lunged for possession.
Chapter Six
Faced with Derek’s confidant stance, Lisa prepared her defense. Not that there was much to prepare. His game may be dirty, but it was simple. Yes, he’d turned her on, but he also worked himself into quite the state of arousal in the process.
He didn’t seem to care if she noticed, so she had no qualms about using it against him. She didn’t move when he tried to get past, countering his shoulder bump with her chest. His indrawn breath told her he felt the brush of her breasts on his arm. Good. When he pivoted his back to her, she splayed her fingers on his muscled thigh, flexed, and leaned full against him while reaching for the ball with her free hand.
It almost worked. She came within an inch of her goal before he spun left and got off a clean jump shot from beyond the three-point line.
Whoosh . Game over.
Derek gave a triumphant shout, both arms raised over his head.
Lisa went to retrieve the ball unable to believe she’d lost. Even harder to believe was how much fun she’d had in the process. She didn’t even feel bad about the tires, because it’d been his suggestion and she knew she’d put her heart into the game. Losing wasn’t so bad when she won at the same time.
She faced him on the court. Sweat glistened on his brow, damp locks of hair clung to his forehead. His shirt was equally damp, but she knew first hand that up close, underneath the heated odor of exertion, lingered a hint of the spicy scent her senses had endured at the wedding. A crooked smile added to his overall sexiness, and she fought the insane urge to jump him right there.
“Looks like you got some tires,” he said.
“Looks like.” She spun and walked away. No sense letting him get too cocky. “I’m hitting the shower.”
He stalked her across the court and into the men’s locker room. Despite trying to ignore him, she was hyper-aware of every step he took. After swiping up her jeans and sweater from the bench, she turned to retreat to the women’s locker room. Derek blocked her path, his brown eyes as fiery as the heat emanating from his body. Her heart banged against her ribs.
“You got a towel I can use?” she asked.
He crowded close, leaning to dig a hand into his duffle bag. When he straightened, he offered the towel without giving an inch. “I only have one—we’ll have to share.”
His gruff implication conjured up all kinds of delicious, naughty images. Ones she wasn’t sure she was ready for just yet. Physically? Hell yes . Emotionally? Well, she was getting there.
She fisted the towel in her hand and pushed him against the lockers. His shoulder blades hit with a metallic bang. Gazes locked, Lisa eased past. He leaned his head forward, a combination of invitation and intent. His scent filled her nostrils, and she fought the urge to surrender.
Bumping his chest with the towel to hold him in place, she said, “I’ll bring it back when I’m done,” and made her escape.
His combination groan and chuckle bounced off the lockers. “Keep it,” he called as the door swung shut behind her.
Lisa didn’t linger under the hot spray longer than it took to rinse off because she planned to take a real shower when she got home. Not to mention, imagining Derek on the other side of the concrete wall soaping up all those hard muscles was pure torture.
Dressed again, she waited outside the men’s locker room, her back to the wall. Derek exited the locker room, duffle slung over one
He’d play defense with her any day. Gave him the chance to bump and grind when she tried to back her way closer to the basket. Lisa pushed hard against his hip block with a loud growl of frustration.
Derek sucked in an aroused breath, and ground back. She gasped. He knocked the ball from her hands and they both lunged for possession.
Chapter Six
Faced with Derek’s confidant stance, Lisa prepared her defense. Not that there was much to prepare. His game may be dirty, but it was simple. Yes, he’d turned her on, but he also worked himself into quite the state of arousal in the process.
He didn’t seem to care if she noticed, so she had no qualms about using it against him. She didn’t move when he tried to get past, countering his shoulder bump with her chest. His indrawn breath told her he felt the brush of her breasts on his arm. Good. When he pivoted his back to her, she splayed her fingers on his muscled thigh, flexed, and leaned full against him while reaching for the ball with her free hand.
It almost worked. She came within an inch of her goal before he spun left and got off a clean jump shot from beyond the three-point line.
Whoosh . Game over.
Derek gave a triumphant shout, both arms raised over his head.
Lisa went to retrieve the ball unable to believe she’d lost. Even harder to believe was how much fun she’d had in the process. She didn’t even feel bad about the tires, because it’d been his suggestion and she knew she’d put her heart into the game. Losing wasn’t so bad when she won at the same time.
She faced him on the court. Sweat glistened on his brow, damp locks of hair clung to his forehead. His shirt was equally damp, but she knew first hand that up close, underneath the heated odor of exertion, lingered a hint of the spicy scent her senses had endured at the wedding. A crooked smile added to his overall sexiness, and she fought the insane urge to jump him right there.
“Looks like you got some tires,” he said.
“Looks like.” She spun and walked away. No sense letting him get too cocky. “I’m hitting the shower.”
He stalked her across the court and into the men’s locker room. Despite trying to ignore him, she was hyper-aware of every step he took. After swiping up her jeans and sweater from the bench, she turned to retreat to the women’s locker room. Derek blocked her path, his brown eyes as fiery as the heat emanating from his body. Her heart banged against her ribs.
“You got a towel I can use?” she asked.
He crowded close, leaning to dig a hand into his duffle bag. When he straightened, he offered the towel without giving an inch. “I only have one—we’ll have to share.”
His gruff implication conjured up all kinds of delicious, naughty images. Ones she wasn’t sure she was ready for just yet. Physically? Hell yes . Emotionally? Well, she was getting there.
She fisted the towel in her hand and pushed him against the lockers. His shoulder blades hit with a metallic bang. Gazes locked, Lisa eased past. He leaned his head forward, a combination of invitation and intent. His scent filled her nostrils, and she fought the urge to surrender.
Bumping his chest with the towel to hold him in place, she said, “I’ll bring it back when I’m done,” and made her escape.
His combination groan and chuckle bounced off the lockers. “Keep it,” he called as the door swung shut behind her.
Lisa didn’t linger under the hot spray longer than it took to rinse off because she planned to take a real shower when she got home. Not to mention, imagining Derek on the other side of the concrete wall soaping up all those hard muscles was pure torture.
Dressed again, she waited outside the men’s locker room, her back to the wall. Derek exited the locker room, duffle slung over one
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