Photographer Sierra Stratton views the world through a lens all her own. She has an uncanny sense about people, something that often causes her trouble. When she meets the sexy and brooding Evan Dorsey, her intuition tells her he’s suffering, and she wants to be the one to help him.
Evan isn’t open to help from anyone, however. His focus is on his Major League career and making himself as marketable as possible for his upcoming free agency. He plans to ride out the season in Atlanta and then sign with another team, away from the painful memories that haunt him.
Someone’s eager to send him on his way, too. Between anonymous threats and equipment sabotage, it’s clear he’s earned himself an enemy along the way. To him, it’s one more sign that he’s right to move on.
But Sierra threatens his conviction. Her contagious smile proves hard to resist, as does her kiss. She tempts him in ways he never anticipated, making him question his plans for the first time. If he’s not careful, she might just convince him that he’s meant for her.
About the Author
Raine Thomas is the award-winning author of bestselling Young Adult and New Adult fiction. Known for character-driven stories that inspire the imagination, Raine recently signed with multiple award-winning producer Chase Chenowith of Back Fence Productions to bring her popular Daughters of Saraqael trilogy to the big screen. She's a proud indie author who is living the dream. When she isn't writing or glued to e-mail or social networking sites, Raine can usually be found vacationing with her husband and daughter on one of Florida's beautiful beaches or crossing the border to visit with her Canadian friends and relatives.
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He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. It was all she could do to keep her eyes on his face. She’d already seen the black tattoo on the inside of his left forearm that read Strength, but she hadn’t seen his others yet. Across his pecs was a longer tattoo, some sentence or phrase that she couldn’t read from where she stood. He had another one on his right bicep, high enough to be covered by a sleeve whenever he wore a shirt.
She wanted to run up to him and touch and examine every inch of his tanned skin, especially where his spectacular abs disappeared into a V where his towel cut him off. If she didn’t already look like a whacked out, creepy stalker, that would be sure to do the trick.
After a long moment, he said, “It’s not broken.”
Relief flooded through her, both because he apparently wasn’t filing charges and because Beck’s paw was only sprained. She went back down to her knees to pet him some more.
“I’m so glad to hear it. Did Dr. Paulk give you the anti-inflammatories?”
Evan made a face. “Yeah. When I tried to give one to Beck, he puked on me.”
She made a sound of sympathy and kissed the top of Beck’s head. “Poor thing. You’re not feeling well at all, are you, big guy?”
“You know, I’m the one who got puked on,” Evan grumbled.
That was way too good a segue to pass up. Getting to her feet, she slowly walked over to him. His eyebrow lifted.
“Poor, Evan,” she said, her eyes on his as she stopped in front of him. “You’ve had a rough couple of days, haven’t you, big guy?”
“You petted Beck,” he reminded her.
Smiling, she reached out and placed her palms on his chest. As she ran her hands over his hard muscles, she read his chest tattoo.
Play as if you’ll live forever.
“An oversight I’m happy to remedy,” she murmured, meeting his gaze as her right hand lowered to his abdomen. “How rough have you had it these past couple of days, Evan?”
He grabbed her hand when it reached the waistband of his towel. She hadn’t had any intention of going beneath it…this time. But it pleased her to look down and see the results of her touch on his body.
Figuring he wanted her to stop teasing him, she stepped away. He yanked her back against him and brought his mouth down on hers.
All sense of teasing was gone like a snap. Desire raged between them. The kiss was hot, open-mouthed, carnal. She buried her fingers in the hair at the base of his neck, barely aware when he reached down to lift her so that her legs wrapped around his waist. She just knew how happy she was to have even easier access to his fabulous mouth.
She met the thrust of his tongue with hers, mimicking the mating that they both clearly wanted. Soft moans and growls filled the room, none of them from the dogs. They backed against a wall. His lower body pressed hard against hers, the towel and her clothing suddenly unbearable barriers.
When she reached for the towel, he stopped her, breaking off the kiss. The sound of their ragged breathing blended with her pulse racing in her ears.
“Mother of God,” he panted, bracing himself against the wall. “I could take you right here.”