Touch & Go Read Free

face.
    Clinking her glass with his own, he knocked back what Ava could only consider a telling gulp of liquid courage. “Bring it,
Schnookums.
”
    Sucker.
“As you wish,
Fern-tip
.”
    Thirty minutes later Ava had endured Sam’s knuckles running lazily up and down her spine while they chatted with some law school friends. A score of butterflies to the man.
    She’d earned a few points herself, brushing an imaginary bit of something from Sam’s bottom lip as she wet her own while a couple of Trust guys they’d been talking to got caught up in a debate about the Bulls’ last season.
    Those darkening eyes…
score, thank you.
    Sam took the next point by violating the inside of her wrist with teasing circles from his thumb while a handful of Bankruptcy girls dished about the highlights of the previous year’s event. And yeah, that feather-light business was knee-meltingly effective.
    Which meant Ava needed to get serious. She’d already garnered more hands-on experience with Sam’s skills in the art of seduction than a woman in her situation should ever have.
    One more bold move and she’d have him backing down for sure.
    Twining Sam’s tie—a gorgeous weathered blue that matched his eyes—around her finger a few times, she pulled him down so she could reach his ear. Then, letting her lips come in soft contact with the shell, she murmured, “Just give up. I always win.”
    The arm that slid around her shoulders was notably tense. And Ava moved to step back so she could see Sam fold.
    Only instead of giving her space, Sam pulled her in closer, shifting so it was
his
mouth against
her
ear.
    Oh no.
    One breath, warm and wet, and a tremor sliced through her.
    A shift of his head, and the slight scrape of his jaw skimmed along the column of her neck, waking the sensitive stretch of skin with a prickly awareness that stole the air from her lungs.
    His words washed over her in a low rumble. “You only win because I always let you. But not tonight.”
Oh God,
she was done for. He was right. Of course in this case it probably had more to do with the handicap she was playing with, but whatever her excuse, Sam had her.
    Literally. She wasn’t sure her legs would hold her if she didn’t have that hard, solid arm pinning her in so close to his body.
    And right then Ava was wishing like hell she were one of those women with enough confidence in the sanctity of their personal space to keep a vibrator on hand. But Sam Farrow had been burrowing through her crap for two decades, so anything she didn’t want him to find, she didn’t keep at home. And secure as her lockbox was at the bank…well, a vibrator wasn’t happening there either. Which sucked, because she was in a sorry state and something told her taking the edge off tonight was going to be a monumental undertaking.
    Stupid Stalker Guy.
This was all his fault.
    Even as she thought it, she caught sight of him from across the room. Eyes locked on her like he didn’t believe a second of what he was seeing. Which was pretty ironic, actually, considering the last moments were probably the most honest Ava had allowed in too many years to remember.
    But whatever.
    “Jesus, this guy doesn’t give up,” Sam growled, following her eyes with his own. “How bad do you want to get him off your back, Ave?”
    An entire evening of seeing her with someone else and he was still watching? “Bad.”
    “Yeah, that’s what I figured. Here, come with me a second.” Smoothly, Sam guided her over to the terrace door and stepped outside.
    The wind had picked up and despite the half-dozen strategically positioned heaters, it was cold enough that they were alone. Ava shivered and without missing a beat, Sam slipped off his suit jacket and draped it across her shoulders, pulling her toward a remote corner.
    Suddenly Ava was wondering if she’d made a serious mistake.
    “Sam, okay, you know I want to lose this guy. But whatever you’re planning out here is making me nervous. You can’t