Body Heat. Carly Phillips
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But she didn’t have a choice. She hadn’t wanted to think about the fact that she’d have to look into his medical records and background before being able to begin physical therapy. That decision had been made, however, so Brianne took a deep breath and unfolded the documents.
One glimpse and her head spun in shock, disappointment and concern. He was a cop, a detective, injured on the job, who needed rehabilitation in order to return to active duty. By providing the physical therapy, she’d be giving him back his career, and enabling him to put himself in danger again.
Apparently she was destined to have her life filled with risk-takers, people whose adrenaline only flowed when in the midst of excitement. She sighed. Well, at least now she had a concrete reason to not let herself get involved with Jake on any level other than the professional.
As if the probability of her leaving for California at the end of the summer wasn’t enough of a deterrent to beginning any kind of relationship with this sexy, compelling man, she now had his hazardous occupation. She’d lost her parents and lived through the aftermath of their risk-taking. She’d built her present, established a future and gotten a handle on the way she wanted to live. No way she’d let herself lose her heart or her peace of mind that way ever again. Even if the man excited her in ways she desperately wanted to explore.
Leaving the papers on the bed, she headed for the shower. Anything to soothe her. She stripped off her clothes, turned on the water and stepped inside. Hot water on the hardest massage setting pelted her already sensitized skin. Kissing Jake had aroused her, and now she needed the stinging sensation against her flesh to dull the need he’d inspired.
But as the steady stream of water drilled her skin, instead of dulling the ache, it fanned the flame of desire. Her breasts felt heavy, her nipples tight and the sensitive flesh between her legs full to bursting. She tried to tell herself that the way her blood raced through her veins was a response to the knowledge of freedom. That she was reacting to the lure of having a life.
When the summer was over and her time with Jake complete, she’d move west and start over. She could just work one job and have the liberty to come home after work and curl up with a book, or to date a man instead of working a second shift. But Brianne knew she was deceiving herself about the reason for her excited state.
She was responding to Jake, to his flirtatious manner and the sizzling sexual awareness that shimmered between them. But it was an awareness that could go nowhere. She flipped off the water, knowing the shower was doing nothing to dampen her aroused state. No man had ever affected her so strongly, and nothing could ease the building desire.
She stepped out and grabbed for the fluffy towel she’d left hanging behind the door. Steam filled the bathroom, making her hotter than she’d been minutes earlier, if that were possible. Lifting her foot to the edge of the tub, she patted her leg dry, moving upward to her thigh. And she thought about Jake’s injury and the bruising that discolored the otherwise perfect, tanned flesh. She thought about his pain and wanted to ease it.
And she would. With caressing brushes of her fingertips and with stroking movements across his skin. But what would stop her from moving lower? From easing her hands from his shoulder to his hair-roughened chest, to the puckered, darkened nipples just begging for her touch?
What would prevent her from then dipping lower, tracing his firm abdomen, and passing the waistband of his shorts until she encountered the other powerful muscle that would be rigid and firm, waiting for her?
And what would stop him from reciprocating? From moving his strong hands between her legs, from slipping his fingers between the folds of her flesh and easing the ache with slow but sure thrusts? What would stop him from picking up her personal rhythm and from making slow and sure become quick and fulfilling?
Absolutely nothing. The answer came to her immediately, and Brianne’s breath flowed in shallow gasps as she realized her own hands mimicked her desire, arousing her wanting flesh. And she realized nothing could stop what was about to happen. Meeting him had fanned the flame that had been lit at the moment of their first illicit glance. His sexy voice and seductive touch had sent her over the edge.
Nothing could stop the fantasy.
Nothing could stop them.
Bright light and a wash of pleasure, strong and enveloping, rushed through her. And Jake’s name was on her lips.
AFTER A LONG DAY at the hospital, Brianne headed over to the restaurant to say goodbye to Jimmy one last time. She’d promised him two weeks’ notice, but when she’d arrived and given him details, he’d practically fired her on the spot. Jimmy knew how much money was at stake and refused to let her risk losing the opportunity. More than most, Jimmy understood the freedom Rina’s payment would provide.
Brianne packed the small stash of things she kept at The Sidewalk Café, a duffel bag with feminine and emergency items, then zipped it closed. “I’m set. I hate to leave you shorthanded, though,” she said, turning to Jimmy.
He leaned both elbows on the bar. “Sweetheart, much as I love you, there’s no shortage of waitresses in New York City.”
“Are you saying you won’t even miss me when I’m gone?” She placed her hand over her heart and feigned a heavy sigh.
“You’re dedicated and loyal—but rarely on time, and you took ages and three sets of dishes to train. Remind me again why I kept you on?” He winked, and a lock of sandy-blond hair fell over his forehead.
“Oh, you.” She tossed a wet rag his way. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Speak for yourself.” His mouth tipped upward in a grin, showing dimples that charmed many women and brought in a harem most weekend nights.
Brianne was grateful for his friendship and support, but he hadn’t appealed to her that way—not the way Jake had. And though Jimmy had asked her out, he’d always respected the boundaries of friendship and accepted her no’s after the first couple of easy letdowns. With all they had in common, he’d become her closest friend and her brother’s male role model when he was home from boarding school.
“Seriously, though, if this guy puts any moves on you, you give me a call.”
Brianne stifled a cough, knowing any moves Jake made wouldn’t be unwanted, just unwise. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.” She slung her bag over her shoulder, refusing to let even Jimmy see her bad case of nerves over taking this new job. “And you lay off the cigarettes, okay? They’ll kill you if some woman doesn’t do it first,” she said with a grin.
He shook his head and laughed. “I’ll be at your place bright and early to help you move in.” He ignored the cigarette reference, just as she’d expected.
“You’re a prince, Jimmy.”
“That’s what they all say. You aren’t angry at me for setting this up, are you?”
“How can I be angry when you dug me out of a deep hole? I finally see daylight. I’m grateful, even if you do have a big mouth.” She grinned, letting him know she was joking. Gossip was a hazard of his bartending occupation. She couldn’t fault him.
“You’ll keep in touch?”