Ramping Up

by Zoe Dawson

  “I’m not going to withdraw my offer because of a ‘might.’ This is your decision after all.” I would take the calculated risk and handle anything that came along. I thought Gunner was worth it. “Are you ready to go over the contract? We need to get this taken care of before you can sign the endorsement agreement with Quickdraw. That’s Max’s company.”

  I walked over to my computer and woke it up, bringing up Max’s website and turned the monitor toward him.

  “Quickdraw? Sick boards. The one I street-ride is their brand. Desperado.”

  “Sick, huh?” I smiled. “Max will be thrilled.”

  He peered at the screen over my shoulder and I didn’t dare move. “He makes a really good board for cross-training. The front truck has a dual-axis pivot, allowing the wheels to turn laterally and the skateboard to ‘carve’ like a surfboard.”

  My God, could he be any cuter? I turned to look at him and my thoughts must have been all over my face.

  He shrugged, suddenly looking embarrassed. “Let my inner geek out there, huh? The mechanics interest me.”

  Keeping my hands off him was going to be much, much harder than I thought. I wanted to jump on him. Integrity. Ethics. Professionalism. I repeated them over in my head like a mantra. “Geeks rule the world,” I said with a smile, and his mouth hiked up. “Why don’t I give you time to go over the contract, and then we can discuss anything you wish?”

  He nodded.

  “I’ll just step out and give you some privacy. Can I get you anything?”

  “Iced tea?”

  He didn’t move when I turned. He had me boxed in. “Bottled okay?”

  “Sure. Thanks,” he said, but didn’t budge. I had to brush the whole front of my body against his to get around him. He just got this…hot look on his face, but let me go.

  Once I stepped into the hall, I felt that I could finally breathe. Dragging in a lungful of air, I headed toward the kitchen, and when I entered, Trista was there pouring hot water into a cup for her tea.

  “Hey there,” she said and smiled. “I saw Gunner. He’s even hotter in person. Yowza. That is so cool he’s going to sign. Max will be so happy.”

  “I know. I intend to do my best for him.”

  “That goes without saying. Just make sure your best isn’t on your back.” She grinned, peering at me a little too closely.

  “Trista,” I hissed, “stop it.”

  “Or, hmm, after seeing him in person, maybe your knees? That’s a toughie.” Her brows went up and she gave me a very dirty look.

  “You are so damn bad.”

  She giggled, but on Trista it was a deep, sultry sound. “I know, and you love it. I especially love doing it to Hannah. She always blushes. Such a sexy little angel.”

  “You leave Hannah alone, you hussy.”

  She smiled that devilish Trista smile. “Okay, Miss Goody Two-shoes. But it’s much more fun being bad.”

  I shook my head and immediately thought of Gunner, then immediately thought about my dad and all he had done to bring this company back from the brink. It had a great reputation, and I didn’t want to be the one to tarnish it. “How did it go with Wayne? Is he onboard with the pink gloves?”

  She shot me a how-could-you-doubt-me look. “Of course, he is. I am a master of persuasion. He asked me out.” At the look on my face, Trista quickly added, “Don’t worry. I turned him down. Though he is quite the sexy beast, I dislike violence.”

  “You recruited an MMA fighter, and you hate violence?”

  “Yeah. Hey, sometimes in this business we have to stow our personal feelings into that little box I like to call compromised principles.” She dropped her tea bag into the trash. “And he’s not my type.”

  “In that you like being in charge?”

  “No. Well, yes.” She gave me a wicked grin. “A little bondage never hurt anyone.”

  “Let me see, you go more for the long, lean, beachalicious surfer dudes. Ones who are named after birds of prey? What makes you think he isn’t in-your-face tough?”

  She sighed. “His dad has blocked every single one of my attempts to get to him. They’re happy with their rep. Damn them. But I’m interested in Falcon in a purely professional capacity. Even though I’m sure he’s more than enough man to take me on. All that dark, sexy hair…”

  She got this dreamy look on her face, and I snapped my fingers. “Come back from Dirtymindland.”

  “Sigh. Buzz kill. What’s Dirtymindland?”

  “It’s sorta like an amusement park. With all the rides you want to go on again and again.” I waggled my brows. “Can I also say before I get back to my own hottie, I am impressed at how you kept a perfectly straight face when you mouthed that horrible, blatant lie about only being interested in Falcon in a professional sense.”

  “That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.” She blew on her tea and took a sip. “Are you going to get Gunner into the campaign? Hannah got her tennis pro to agree to a pink racquet.”

  “That’s not a bad idea. I was originally going to ask Chris Washington to bounce a pink basketball. But, maybe Keke and Star can design a cool pink skateboard for Gunner to use. They’re so talented.” Kehaulani Shima, or Keke, as we called her, was one of Max’s old teammates. I had grown up with her kids, Star and Azriel. Az worked for Max, shaping custom surfboards, but had also built an amazing diving business that was taking up more of his time. Star was now working on the designs with her mom for Max’s skateboards.

  “O-M-G, yes. I love their work. Max is lucky he has them.”

  I got an iced tea out of the fridge and went back to my office, my mind racing. As I entered, I saw that Gunner was sprawled out on my black leather sofa, already on the second page. He looked up as I came in and tracked my progress across the open space. I grabbed a coaster and set the bottle down on the coffee table.

  “I don’t want to kick you out of your office. You can hang out here.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?” My eyes roamed over him like I hadn’t seen him for weeks, staring at him longer than I should have. This was the most relaxed I had seen him, and the space next to him looked so inviting and cozy.

  It was my turn to come back from Dirtymindland.

  “It’s your space, babe,” he said, but his eyes devoured me as I stood there. I broke eye contact and headed to my desk. For the hundredth time it occurred to me that this was not going to be easy.

  Settling into my chair, I did my best to ignore him while I continued to work.

  Thirty minutes later, Gunner signed the contract and I added my signature. It was official. He was mine.

  “I have done some homework and I think League Street Jam would be the best choice for competition because it’s sponsored by Nitor.” League Street Jam, or LSJ, as it was known, was an international professional skateboarding competition where professional street skaters competed for the largest monetary prize offered for the sport. The cutoff was twenty-five competitors and I was sure that Gunner would be one of them.

  He nodded. “Agreed.”

  “I like that it’s also international. The first competition is in DC, then LA, then Sydney, and last, the Crown One World Championship is at Madison Square Garden.”

  “I’ve never been to Sydney.”

  “I’ve been several times. Some beautiful country, and the ocean is gorgeous, especially the Great Barrier Reef. You win the Crown One World Championship in your first professional outing and you can punch your own ticket.”

  “No pressure.”

  I smiled. “I think you can handle it.”

  “I think I can, too,” he murmured.

  “Let’s head out to Max. I’m dying for you to meet him.”

  Chapter 7

  Gunner

  Lena pulled her BMW into a parking spot just behind Quickdraw. She cut the engine. We had just finalized the contract, and I was still unsure about how my unpredictable father would disrupt my new life. I was sure he wouldn’t let it go. And among my many fears, th
at one stood out. Because now, with Lena, I had something at stake. More than one thing, in fact. She was part of the reason I was here, along with the draw of skating. She was important in getting me where I wanted to go, proving that I was more than just my father’s puppet. More than just a surfing phenomenon because of what I had to do to please a man who was never pleased. My father and I had a twisted, unhealthy, silent contract: my mother and sister for my capitulation. But when would that ever stop? I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t want his shadow to touch this beautiful, vibrant woman. I would die first.

  “You will love Max,” Lena said. “He is simply the best. A big teddy bear.” She rooted around in her minuscule, prissy purse, letting out little huffs of breath until I finally said, “You need any help, McHotstuff?”

  “No. I was looking for my…oh, there it is.” She shot me a quelling look and I was crazy, but it turned me on.

  “Sorry.” I cleared my throat like I was sheepish. “That would be Agent McHotstuff.”

  “I’m glad you’re so amused,” she murmured. Her gaze had been on the tiny bag, and I was flabbergasted that she could lose anything in it. But her eyes came up to chastise me, and she spied what she was obviously looking for. She reached into a small area cut into the dash and grabbed a tube of what looked like red gel. “I was looking for my raspberry lip gloss.”

  She met my gaze, and I’d never seen such beautiful eyes, a clear, vibrant green that I wanted to get lost in, her lashes so thick, I had to wonder if they were genuine. Everything about her was sweet. She was pedicured, manicured, and probably bikini-waxed.

  What a delectable and perilous thought to have exploded into my mind.

  I should get out of this car right now before my dick did the deciding for me.

  She pulled down the visor, and the little mirror lit up. She squeezed out a bit of the gloss onto her finger and dabbed, her lips curving into a tantalizing little pout.

  “Thank God. I was about to call the fashion police on you for having bare lips.” The words came out in a fairly controlled choke as if I were actually in charge of myself—which I wasn’t at all. She breathed, and my pulse revved. She glanced at me, and my blood rushed. She was torturing me, right? This was a way to make me silently go mental.

  If she hadn’t pulled back in her office, I would have definitely planted one on her. The way she leaned toward me begged me to.

  She laughed softly, genuinely, and I felt like I’d just done a full cab. She turned to me with mischief in her eyes. “You want some?”

  Those words pretty much ramped me up. Hell, yeah, I wanted some, all night long.

  Her gaze hit mine and she colored, and it looked so pretty on her.

  I loved her awareness. The way she looked at me was definitely not an agent to a client. It was a look that sucked much-needed blood from my brain cells and sent it down to my very eager dick.

  She went very still. I was using all my strength to keep from breaching any agreement we had already made. Not to mention I didn’t want to rush anything physical with her. That thought threw me. But it was true. I wanted something more and I knew it was impossible, but I was all about the odds. Fuck them. That was something that should have made me jump out of the car and run in the other direction. But I couldn’t move right now.

  What passed between us was intimate, something I was not accustomed to, something that I had shied away from for most of my life.

  “I think pink is your color,” she said, way too cute. Pink was my color. And red. And peach, the shade of her gorgeous skin. I could only guess she was trying to downplay the building tension with her girly humor.

  It failed.

  My heart beat heavily in my chest. I was going to take that mouth. Waiting wasn’t an option because I knew that’s what I would be doing…waiting. Patience was good up to a certain point, but even with that forbidden crap between us, not to mention all the other reasons this wouldn’t be a good idea, I couldn’t possibly get through the day, or the next two seconds, without taking what I wanted, what she obviously wanted. My body was totally in tune with hers, and I was energized by the need to touch her, to draw her close and bury my face in the curve of her neck and shoulder, to open my mouth on her skin and run my tongue all the way down her body.

  No, I told myself. Use the right head. It was impossible. She told me so. But that was the problem with me. I’d just gotten free, and I liked the feeling of being limitless.

  I reached out and curved my hand around the back of her neck, and I was moving, sliding, crowding her against the driver’s side door. Her skin burned me, so soft, her bones delicate within my loose hold.

  I lowered my mouth to hers and tasted her go-ahead-and-try-to-kiss-me lips. God, she was sweet. And I knew I wasn’t wrong about her wanting me. I could feel it in the way she met my mouth, instantly softening, flowing toward me, touching her tongue to mine. My world, my solitary, desolate, fucked-up world, shifted in that one instant.

  Game changer. This girl was a game changer. My life was such shit, and I was messed up big-time in the head. I didn’t forge any kind of permanent relationship with anyone. I kept myself separate for a reason. I had learned the lesson very well. I could only really depend on myself; it was safer that way, and I couldn’t lose track of that. But here she was, making me forget about that one hard-and-fast rule.

  I did know this wasn’t temporary. Total annihilation that tasted like juicy, sun-warmed raspberries.

  She made a soft sound in her throat, and her hand pressed against my chest right over my nipple, and it was my turn to make a sound. My breath started to come short, running along the edge of erotic, right into consuming, all the way to drugging. Wet, serious, taking and wanting, my tongue pushing deep, again and again, consuming her mouth, demanding more, and she gave me everything she had. It was the only way this was going down. She slid against me, her curves molding to my angles, the firm softness of her body coming up against the rock hardness of mine. The taste of her filled me, the gentleness of her breath against my skin, the strength of her arms holding me close. I opened my mouth on her throat, grazing her with my teeth and licking her skin. She melted against me in an instant in the way that got guys so hard, and one of her hands tunneled up into my hair, pulling me down to her, like maybe I might get away if she didn’t hold on to me. It was the most whole, hottest damn kiss I’d ever experienced, the movement of our mouths in sync with each other, and with me not forgetting for a second that her breasts were just a short slide of my hand away from where I was holding her at her waist.

  I was in a place where control slipped and thought ceased, and sensation and want took over, pushing out the almost-debilitating fear. I had no idea where it would have gone if I hadn’t hit the horn with my elbow. The sound startled us apart, both of us panting, her green eyes dazed and wide.

  “Wow. Pink does look good on you,” she whispered. I clenched my jaw as common sense came flooding back into my blood-starved brain. Even as I wanted to kiss her, I was pushing back into the passenger seat.

  She stared at me for a moment, then said, “Good idea. Space. We need space. And air. Air would be good. Are you good? What am I saying? That was so good. But wrong. Not bad, though. Oh shit. I’ve officially lost my freaking mind.”

  “Is there a membership card?” I rasped.

  She laughed, a little bubble of hysteria, then covered her mouth. “Don’t be funny or charming right now. Please,” she begged. “The way you kiss…”

  “This is your fault. You have to stop looking at me like that.”

  “Like what?”

  Like she wanted to eat me like an ice-cream cone, with plenty of suction and licking. As I gazed at her, she turned red again. “If I say, we’ll be doing something more than kissing, McHotstuff.”

  “I’ll try to resist you if you will.”

  “Agreed,” I said. But I wasn’t sure I really meant it.

  “You smudged me,” she added, looking into the mirror, the tube of lip gloss not
quite steady in her hand.

  I reached for it, not in control of my body it seemed. “Open your mouth,” I said. She complied.

  Whoa. Ke-rist.

  I pinched out a tiny bit and dabbed it on, then used my thumb to spread it over her swollen, just-kissed lips.

  Yeah, it was official; I was screwed.

  She gasped and closed her eyes, and my thumb glided to the middle of her lower lip, resting gently. “This is you trying?” she said softly, careful not to move her mouth too much.

  “Yeah. You got something to say?”

  Her eyes stayed closed. “Are you done?”

  “No.” My gaze slid over her from the thick fan of her lashes brushing the tops of her cheeks, down to the elegant line of her nose, to the place where my mouth had been only moments before, the place where it wanted to get right back to again.

  “Lena,” I whispered. Her eyes popped open, and she stared at me. This time, I didn’t overwhelm her but waited. She searched my face and took a soft breath, and there was an invitation in her eyes. This time she gave consciously, acquiesced.

  I watched the anticipation move across her expression. Her lips parted and my whole body clenched.

  When nothing happened, she raised her gaze to mine, looking drugged and confused. I stared back, still waiting; then realization flashed in those green eyes.

  The touch of her lips, so sensual, so full, made me want so much more. I couldn’t help using the tip of my tongue to savor the taste and feel of her. I groaned at the slide of her tongue over mine. My chest heaved against hers, the thin tank top no barrier against the heat of her breasts. I could feel her nipples tightening and hardening as I took her mouth again. My fingers caressed the back of her neck when she opened her mouth, and the kiss just got hotter.

  I slipped my tongue inside her mouth, tracing slowly around the inner edge of her lips, then slipped deeper, probing, exploring. Lena’s breath hitched, and I tried to catch mine, but she kept stealing it away every time her lips moved and her body shifted.

  She ran her hands down my back, shivers running through me as they slid lower. My dick swelled inside my jeans, her mouth pushing aside sanity, blazing a trail for more instinctive responses. She arched against me, losing herself in the kiss and the moment.