by: Skye Jordan
Series: Xtreme Heroes
Genre: Hot Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 16, 2015
From New York Times bestselling author Skye Jordan, Xtreme Heroes is a brand new series starring super-hot extreme athletes and their adventures.
Former Olympian turned physical therapist to the elite Julia Bailey knows all about pushing the limits. But when a sexual harassment suit costs her a dream job—not to mention her reputation—she takes on the biggest risk of her life. Rehabilitating the X Games’ most notorious bad boy might be just what she needs to secure the funds for her own treatment center. Problem is, the only kind of recovery her new client is interested in is under-the-covers freestyle—gear optional.
Daredevil snowboarder Noah Hunt is a rock star—on and off the slopes. A recent accident might have him down, but he’s far from out. He doesn’t care what the sexy therapist with the sweet curves says. He’s got sponsors to impress and trophies to collect, and taking things slow and steady just ain’t his style. A little dirty talk and a sizzling night later, Julia learns just how fast and hard he likes to play. Too bad for him, his heart goes all in, and one wrong move could cost him more than just his career.
“Seventeen,” he counted, “eighteen, nineteen, twenty.” Noah racked the weight and rolled back to the floor. While resting on all fours, he glanced up at her. “If you touch me again, I’m taking you down. Consider yourself warned.”
She was looking a little too smug when he kicked his feet into the air and then tipped into a smooth, practiced handstand beside him.
She shot him a grin and challenged, “Beat you to the wall.”
Her hands moved freely across the mat, her laugh echoing through the gym.
“You little…” He trailed off, putting all his effort into moving forward without losing his balance. But she was a good six “steps” ahead.
“Come on, Superstar,” she said, her breath heaving. “Catch me.”
He pushed his hands into a bigger reach and caught up with her. But as soon as he got close, she leaned into one hand and used the other to shove at his shoulder.
“Oh, ambush! You fight dirty.” Noah’s shoulders burned like they were on fire, but he leaned into one arm long enough to reach out and grip the side of her waist.
She squealed and pushed his hand away, but she was too far off-balance and collapsed, rolling to the floor in a scream of defeat.
Quicker than he could regain his own balance, she reached up and pulled at his shorts, and Noah followed her to the floor.
He landed in a pile, half on top of her, half beside her, their legs tangled. They were both breathing hard, laughing, spent.
“That doesn’t count,” she said between breaths. “You didn’t win. Rematch when you’re out of reach.”
“You started it. That’s an automatic forfeit.”
She pushed up on her elbows. “You’re full of shit.” When he pushed up as well, she shoved his shoulder. “You don’t make the rules, Superstar.”
He pushed her back. “Neither do you, Fascist.”
When she reached out to push him again, he grabbed her wrist, rolled onto his back, and dragged her on top of him. With his hands gentle around her biceps, he soaked in the feel of her body sinking against his—the swell of her breasts against his chest, the press of her flat belly to his, her sex smothering his hardening erection.
He was sweaty, hot, and crossing every boundary she’d set in place today. But she didn’t scream and shove him away in disgust the way any other woman would when he’d been working out. No, this chick just grinned down at him with decadent, heavy-lidded eyes.
“Quick moves, Superst—”
He lifted his head and pressed his lips to hers. They were soft and warm and sweet, and they moved beneath his in a tentative kiss. Her long dark eyelashes curved against the creamy skin along her cheekbone, and Noah let his own eyes close. He slid his fingers into her silky hair, then tilted his head and took the kiss deeper. She opened to him with a sigh, tantalizing his mouth with sweet heat, and his mind hazed over. Their tongues met, stroked, swirled. She tasted like chocolate and heat and lust. And in that moment Noah knew he’d need all night with her. One round would never be enough.
She slid one arm around his head, dropping into the kiss as if she needed him to breathe. Noah groaned into her mouth, tightened his arm around her lower back, and lifted his hips into hers. She drew a sharp breath and broke the kiss, whispering his name against his cheek. She pushed against his abdomen and sat up. Her legs parted; her knees pressed to the mat alongside his hips. The position only added pressure to his cock, and he reflexively pushed into the weight.
“Oh wow…” She ran a hand through her hair, pushing it off her face. “This seemed like a better idea in my head.”
“I love the fact that it’s been in your head.” Noah pulled himself into a sitting position and wrapped both arms around her. With only an inch between them, he said, “But I like it better outside your head.”
Then he kissed her again, moving his lips over hers, licking across the smooth surface until he coaxed her open again. Another one of those sexy sighs flowed from her mouth, and triumph lightened his head. She explored him with luscious suckles, deep, erotic strokes of her tongue, and teasing licks. Noah had forgotten how good kissing could be. How sensual. How exciting.
Her arms closed around his shoulders, her hands scraped into his hair—his damp, sweaty hair—and she moaned into his mouth. Damn, she was deliriously sexy. He let his hands roam and found her as perfect as she looked, her body all hard planes and toned curves. Gripping her hips, he pulled her close again, fitting their bodies intimately. A feathery moan drifted from her mouth as she broke the kiss. Her eyes closed, her head fell sideways, and her brow tightened in pleasure.
Lust blasted through Noah’s lower body, spearing his cock, flooding his hips, shooting up his spine. He lifted into her, rubbing against her, and they groaned at the same time.
All Noah’s initial thoughts of slow and all night spiraled into a tight ball of right now. Right. Fucking. Now.
His hands slid beneath her top, pushed up, cupped her breasts—bare, full, perfect breasts. “Holy hell,” he muttered against her neck, nipping her there. “You’re so hot.”
“Noah…” she said, her voice languid at first, then sharpening. “Shit, wait.”
He froze, hands on her sides, thumbs on her breasts, mouth on her neck, cock throbbing against her pussy. “Yeah?”
“Wow, that got out of hand fast,” she breathed and leaned back, pulling her hair off her face. Her flushed, gorgeous face. “I’m sorry.”
He looked up at her, stroked the curves of her breasts with his thumbs. “Nothing to be sorry about. You’re perfect. You’re beautiful. I want you. You want me. We’re all good here.”
But she wasn’t convinced. A little vertical frown line crept between her brows, and the spark in her eyes had drifted away.
Noah cupped her face in both hands and lifted her eyes to his. “I know what you’re thinking, but I wasn’t with Samantha last night.”
She shook her head. “Not my business—”
“It’s your business if it’s keeping you from saying yes now.”
God, this was bizarre. He never explained himself to a woman. His motto had always been take it or leave it. But he wanted Julia right now so badly, he could taste it on the back of his tongue. Too hard up for too long, that was what this was. Yet a little voice in his head whispered, You didn’t even try to wake Samantha when she fell asleep on you.
“Listen,” he said, forcing his voice soft. “It happened just like I told you earlier. I brought her home, yes. I fully intended to have sex with her, yes. But we passed out before anything happened. I didn’t have sex with her. I haven’t had sex with anyone since before the accident.”
Shit, he’d lost control of his mouth. Of his mind. That wasn’t sexy. Nothing about desperation was sexy. She said nothing, just kept frowning at him, the wheels of her mind spinning in the background.
Noah pulled her hand from her hair and curled it into his, kissing her knuckles. “And I’m not your client. You don’t even want me as a client. You’re still hell-bent on leaving tomorrow?”
That seemed to sober her. Those pretty eyes, warm as caramel, sharpened. She sighed, looked away, nodded.
He drew her gaze back to his. “Then give me tonight. Nothing more. Just two people hot for each other spending the night together.”
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Skye Jordan is a pseudonym for New York Times bestselling romantic suspense author Joan Swan. Skye’s novels are about enjoying that little wild streak we don’t let out often enough. About those fantasies we rarely get the opportunity to indulge. About stretching limits, checking out the dark side, and maybe even acting a little naughty. They’re about escape and fun and pleasure and romance.
And, yes, even love, because while wicked-great sex is good, happily ever after with wicked-great sex is even better.
Skye (aka Joan) lives on the central coast of California in the heart of wine country with her husband and two daughters. As often as possible, she retreats to a hotel with critique partners for a power-writing week where much drinking, laughing, and yes, even working, ensues. When she’s not writing, Skye goes to breakfast with her hubby, attends her daughters’ barrel races, and spends a lot of time with her own horse, Riddle…while her two dogs, Paxton and Indie, tag along. She also loves to read, knit, craft, row, ride, and dabble in photography.
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