Going All the Way (Knights of Passion Book 1) Read Free Page A

I’ll be there.”
    “Jason, watch yourself. Everyone is concerned about your image.”
    “I’ll grab something to eat then go back to the hotel. To sleep. Alone.” He clutched the phone, its edges digging into his palm. “There are no groupies hanging around me anymore. Nothing to see. No one to do.” He snapped the phone shut and slouched in the booth. Resentment wafted out in waves, scattering the locals, who steered clear of him, the odd wary glance or suspicious look the only attention he received.
    He had to accept the offer. It grated on him to let the team dictate his private life, like a teenager with the parents out of town. He glanced around the dim bar, more from habit than any real interest. His ego taunted him to find a playmate and blow off some steam, prove he was in charge of his own life, not some pencil-pushing general manager. Prove he still had something people wanted, even if it was only sex, because his fame, fortune, awards, respect were all gone. No one wanted him for anything, not even a lousy endorsement selling Viagra.
    The crowd parted. An auburn-haired siren, perched on a barstool, sipping a real drink, not a white wine spritzer or something feminine, one of those frou-frou drinks. A real woman. A woman who dared him not to look.
    He never could resist a challenge.
    As if sensing his interest, she turned sideways on the stool and crossed one knee over the other, her legs going on and on and on, ending in a high heel that could have doubled as a weapon.
    Damn. His groin tightened and pressed against his jeans.
    She was not the typical barfly, not for this dive. Even though she was in jeans, they were too new and the blouse too high-class, too expensive, too perfect for this mostly blue-collar bar. The patrons recognized quality, judging by the half-hearted, lame pick-up lines being served to her like yesterday’s bread. Her auburn hair was twisted up into a knot, a few tendrils tickling a long, creamy neck. He wanted to loosen that rich hair, feel it cascade over him, bury his face in her neck, and inhale her subtle perfume.
    Stupid. Fantasizing about a woman after being told specifically not to get into trouble. He passed off the interest as a by-product of a year-long celibacy. Too bad his rebel side thumbed its nose at being controlled.
    The woman deliberately loosened a button on her blouse. She licked her lips, a come hither look in her eyes. Lust slammed him deep in his groin and he felt a stirring that had everything to do with things he should not be doing. Yes, he still had something, sex appeal, the one thing he never lost.
    She would be perfect to forget his lousy life.
    *
    She met his gaze and flicked a couple of buttons open, displaying more than a little cleavage. Whoa. What a look, sex and sin all rolled into one hot stare. The room temperature rose several degrees. “Yum,” she murmured, not intending anyone to overhear, but she should have known Sophie, her conscience, heard everything.
    “Yum, the drink or yum something else?” Sophie followed Stacia’s gaze to the back of bar.
    “Yum. Tall, dark and, most importantly, not my regular type.”
    “What are you doing, Stace?” Sophie groaned. “I know I said to open up a little. But this?”
    “It’s time for this good girl to cut loose. Just once, I don’t want to make decisions. Just one night. I know we talk about a one-night stand all the time, but tonight, it’s my night.”
    A man next to her swiveled on his stool to look at her through bleary eyes, not too drunk to miss her declaration. Clearly, he had been here awhile, judging by the slight sway in his posture and the shake in his hand bringing the beer to his mouth. He grinned, the typical drunken how-you-doin’ pick up grin and opened his mouth.
    “I’ll stop you right there, Randy,” Stacia interjected, not willing to patronize the local drunk. “We’ve been over this. Not interested. I’m flattered, but no thanks. Not now, not tomorrow, not