“Christ. You’re going to make me come before I get inside you if you keep teasing me.”

“Then let’s not tease anymore, because I need you to f**k me.”

She tore open the condom package and fit it over his shaft, then pulled her panties aside and straddled him. He watched his c**k disappear inside her, holding her h*ps as she settled on him.

Now, that was a sight to make his balls tighten.

When she was fully seated on him, she dug her nails into his shoulders and focused on his eyes, her pu**y pulsing around him. She didn’t move at all, just looked at him.

“Feel that?”

He nodded.

“Oh, God, Mick, that feels so good. I could stay here just like this and feel you inside me.”

He squeezed her flesh. “I’m not going anywhere, honey.”

He liked that she wasn’t in any hurry to show him her great prowess in the sack. Every woman that ever took him to bed seemed to want to impress him with how good they were, but there’d always been a remoteness about them, like f**king was a performance or an audition.

With Tara, she was in it with him, sharing it with him. He liked that she made eye contact with him. She wasn’t pleasuring just him; she pleasured herself, too. She dragged her cl*tagainst him and paused, her eyes drifting closed, her lips opening as she let out a low moan.

There was nothing that turned him on more than a woman out for her own pleasure. Because she wasn’t here trying to score points in her own game to land him. In fact, he was pretty damn sure that was the last thing on Tara’s mind.

She dug her nails into his arms and lifted, then slid down on him again, every slow inch an agony of sweet sensation. He didn’t know where to look—down at where they were joined or at her face, her ragged pleasure there for him to see.

He reached down and stroked her clit, felt how wet she was, knew this wasn’t a performance for her at all, knew it from the way her pu**y squeezed his c**k every time she moved, knew it from the way her eyes got hazy and her lids half closed, knew it from the sounds she made and the way the car smelled like sex. No, she was in it to win the game for herself, and he was part of the team.

He lifted into her, stroked her with both his c**k and his fingers, needing to feel her come apart around him. Her ni**les dangled just out of reach of his mouth. He rectified that by pulling her toward him, flicking his tongue over one, then the other, before taking one between his lips and sucking.

Tara pressed herself further into his mouth. “Yes, Mick, yes. Suck it. Harder.”

He did, and she pushed against him, lifting and dropping down on him, then rocking toward him and riding him faster.

“That’s going to make me come.”

Exactly where he wanted her—in the red zone and headed for the goal line. He left one nipple and went for the other, sucking it hard like she wanted. She shrieked as she came, her pu**y clamping down on his dick like a vise. He held tight to her as he jettisoned a hard come into her, jamming his feet into the floorboards and shuddering while his orgasm rocked him.

Touchdown, point after, game winner. He laid his head between her breasts, feeling her heart pound.

“You made me sweat all over my good suit,” she murmured.

He smiled. “Uh ... sorry?”

She laughed and leaned back to smile down at him. “You aren’t sorry at all.”

“No, I’m not.”

They disentangled and righted their clothing while Tara made a decent attempt to climb over into her seat. “This is not my finest moment. I can’t believe we had sex in your car. I’m hardly sixteen anymore.”

“So?” He buckled his pants. “There’s nothing wrong with acting like it once in a while.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I should know better.”

“So you’re supposed to act like a stuffy grown-up all the time?”

She reached down for her shoes and shrugged. “I have a kid. And yes, I should. You’re a bad influence on me.”

He pulled her toward him and kissed her, making sure she understood just what kind of influence he was. When he finished, her lips were swollen, her eyes dazed. “I like to think I’m a good influence on you.”

They drove back to the restaurant and to Tara’s car. She reached for the door handle and paused.

“Thank you again for an ... interesting night, Mick. But I’m going to have to be up-front and tell you we can’t have any kind of relationship.”

He wasn’t buying it. “Because you don’t like me.”

She looked out the window instead of at him. “That’s not it.”

“Because you’re embarrassed to be seen with me.”

“That’s not it, either.”

“Because you’re ashamed of your son.”

She snapped her gaze to his. “Of course not.”

“Then I want to meet him.”

“Oh, hell no.”

He arched a brow. “So there’s either something wrong with me or with him. Which is it?”

She rubbed her temple. “Neither. I don’t know. You confuse me.”

His lips quirked. “Good confuse or bad confuse?”

She blew out a breath. “I don’t know. You just confuse me.”

He wasn’t going to give her an opportunity to walk away this time. “I’ll call you.”

She waved her hand and opened the car door. “Yeah, you do that.”

“Good night, Tara.”

She slammed the door shut and got into her car. Mick waited until she left, then followed her through the fog, making sure she made it to the highway safely.

It wasn’t until he made the turn to go back to his place that he realized he only had her office number, not her personal one. And he didn’t know where she lived.

He could fix that, though.

Tara was someone he wanted to know better. And she could put up whatever defensive line she wanted, but Mick wasn’t the kind of guy to back down from a good defense.

It was time to shore up his offense.

FIVE

“HOW WAS FOOTBALL CAMP?”

“Fine.”

“Did you learn any new plays?”

Shrug.

“Meet any new friends?”

“Mom, I’m not six years old. It was fine, okay?”

Nathan took his cereal bowl to the sink and dropped it in there.

“In the dishwasher, please. I’m not your maid.”

“Whatever. I have to go get ready for practice.”

He rinsed his bowl and threw it in the dishwasher, then huffed out of the kitchen and into his room, where he slammed the door shut.

Delightful.

Tara let out a long sigh. Why didn’t parenthood come with a manual? There were no guidelines for dealing with a teenager, and she had no parents or siblings to go to for help.

Had she been this difficult at his age?

Probably.

Ugh. Then again, she was much nicer than her own parents had been. Point in her favor. Not that it was helping with Nathan. She could be pleasant to him or she could be surly, and neither seemed to impact him in any way. He had attitude down to an art form. No matter what she did or what she said, he was pissed-off about it.

He was turning fifteen in a less than a month. She should plan something fun for him, let him invite his friends over, and ...

And what? She had no idea what he liked anymore. He had his earbuds shoved in his ears and listened to music or played games on his laptop when he was home. Otherwise he played football and hung out with his friends. The kid wasn’t exactly a social butterfly. As far as she knew, girls hadn’t yet entered the picture.

As far as she knew. And admittedly, she didn’t know much, though she was determined to not be like her parents. Like it or not, she was going to be involved in her son’s life.

She chewed on a hangnail and nursed her cup of coffee, pondering how to reach her recalcitrant child who really wasn’t a child anymore.

He was almost fifteen. At fifteen she’d been partying with her friends and with boys. And she was getting pregnant, mainly because her parents were too busy with their own private demons to pay any attention to what she was doing with her life. And oh, how she’d screwed up her life.

Lord. She rubbed her temples and sent a silent prayer to God that history wouldn’t repeat itself.

No, it wouldn’t. She was on top of Nathan and what he was doing. She wouldn’t let him fall through the cracks. She loved her son, paid attention to his schoolwork and his after-school activities. It was only this past freshman year in high school that he’d gone quiet and sullen on her, and she’d chalked that up to hormones and puberty. She had to give him some space, hated those parents who laid a thumb over their kids, never giving them any freedom. So far, Nathan’s grades were good, and he hadn’t given her any reason to think he was in any kind of trouble.

She owed him her trust—until he gave her a reason not to trust him.

And she hoped to God she could trust him, because it was summer and she had to go to work and he was too damn old for a babysitter.

But at least he had football practice that would keep him busy for part of the day, and that was part of the day she wouldn’t have to worry about what he was doing or what kind of trouble he was getting into.

Which was another reason she couldn’t get involved in any kind of relationship right now. Nathan was her first priority. She had to stay on her toes, and frolicking with a hot guy like Mick Riley would definitely divert her focus away from Nathan. That she refused to do.

By the time she got into the office, she’d managed to shove worry over Nathan into the corner of her brain she normally compartmentalized him into. Always there, but not overpowering her every thought. He had a cell phone and knew he could call her in case of an emergency. Her office was ten minutes from home, so she could get there in a hurry if necessary.

The day went by in a flurry of meetings about clients and events. Thank God for her job and her clients, and for Maggie and the other women, who kept her sane.

By the time four o’clock rolled around, she was astounded the day was already gone. She sipped a cup of tea and went over paperwork and entered dates into the computer.

“Have you been seeing that hot quarterback any?”

Tara looked up to find Maggie making herself at home in her office.

Actually, it had been a week since that night on top of the mountain with Mick. He hadn’t called her. He said he would. Then again, he was a man. They’d had sex. He was popular and went through a ton of women, none of whom had children. Tara knew once she’d dropped that bomb on him, it would be the end of Mick Riley pursuing her.

It’s what she’d wanted. Still, it stung. Just a little.

Fortunately, she’d been too damn busy all week for it to bother her too much.

“No. Not seeing him at all. I told you we weren’t getting involved.”

“Uh-huh. He’s in the front waiting area.”

Tara shot forward in her chair and spilled drops of tea all over her paperwork. “Shit.”

Maggie laughed.

“Dammit, why didn’t you just tell me that?

Maggie grinned and grabbed a few tissues to blot the tea stains. “More fun this way.”

“Bitch.” Tara smoothed her hands down the front of her flowing black-and-white checkered skirt, adjusted the wide black belt, and was just vain enough to take a quick glance at her hair in the mirror over her desk.

Her blouse was tucked in and looked fine. She looked fine.

“What is he doing here?” she asked Maggie.

Maggie shrugged. “I’m sure I don’t know, but he looks good enough to eat.”

Tara rolled her eyes, moving around her desk toward her door. “You need a man of your own.”

Maggie sighed and followed Tara out of her office. “Don’t I know it.”

She was nervous as she walked to the front of the store. Mick stood there at the window, his dark hair highlighted by the sun streaming in. He was so tall, so imposing, so incredibly gorgeous. He turned when he heard her and smiled that dazzling smile that made her just a little bit weak in the knees.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi, yourself.”

Maggie came up next to her, and Tara had to turn and give her a look.

“Oh. Yeah. Paperwork. Later, Mick.”

Mick’s lips quirked. “Later, Maggie.”

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s been a week since I’ve seen you.”

“I realize that. Figured you’d moved on.” She almost bit her tongue clean off. Why did she have to say that? It sounded ... mopey and girlie and needy and all those things she’d rather not sound like.

“No, I just had some business things I had to take care of. I would have called you at night or come by your house, but you didn’t give me your cell number or your home address.”

She crossed her arms. “When has that ever stopped you? Couldn’t your oh-so-stealthy agent scout them out for you?”

“Actually, yes, she could have.” He cocked his head to the side. “I figured maybe you’d want to give them to me yourself this time. Maybe even invite me over to your house.”

“Why would I want to do that?”

“Because you like me.”

Telling him no was on the tip of her tongue. She’d just gotten to the point where she thought she’d never see him again.

And she’d spent the entire week missing him and feeling achy about not seeing him. How utterly pathetic, especially since she hadn’t wanted to start up a relationship with him in the first place.

“I’d really like to meet your son. Does he like football?”