Yvonne Lindsay

Mistresses: Just One Night


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nervous butterflies batting about within her. “Sweetheart, you just get better and better.”

      “Uh-h-h …” was all the farther she’d gotten before he wrapped his big hand around her elbow, and tugged her to her feet. Maybe it was the too fast shift to standing or the lingering effects of her adrenaline rush, or maybe it was just the insane reaction of her body and mind being in such close proximity to the best time they’d had in too long to remember, but suddenly her legs weren’t quite steady, her knees gone elastic beneath her … And then she was stumbling forward. Straight into the solid wall of hard-packed, hot-to-the-touch, make-her-shiver-and-burn-all-at-once Levi Davis.

      “Whoa, you okay?” he asked, the amusement in his tone tinged with concern. His right hand was still closed around her elbow and the left had caught her at the small of her back, holding her in a flush press from thigh to breasts, palms flat against his abdomen, fingertips resting in the shallow well between two tensed muscles.

      Eyes straight ahead, staring at the flat masculine nipple mere inches from her face, she managed a slight nod. Blinked and tried to draw a mind-cleansing breath, reminding herself of all the reasons she needed to keep her distance from a man like this … mainly that he was a walking, talking, Bermuda Triangle to good judgment, the pull of him sending her moral compass into a tailspin.

      She needed to get a grip. Take a few cleansing breaths to clear her head.

      In through the nose—

      Oh, bad idea. Very bad. This close, all she could smell was the heady scent of clean, masculine exertion.

      Sweat.

      Soap.

      Levi.

      God, he smelled so good she nearly groaned. But on the heels of the shorts incident, she’d come across looking like some kind of park-side predator taking advantage of his good Samaritan tendencies to cop a feel and sneak a peek.

      She swallowed, trying to ignore the spicy scent of him spurring shadowed memories of his body moving above hers, their limbs a slick tangle, her tongue tracing a salty path up one flexed bicep—

      Not helping.

      Shake it off, Elise. This man just rescued Bruno. Thank him and step away.

      Pushing her gaze upward, she found him staring down at her, the churning depths of his gaze impossible to read.

      Or maybe not so impossible after all.

      The fingers at her back tensed so the tips pressed into her skin, and the air around them took on the same slow-building charge she’d felt sparking between them that first night. The one that seemed infinitely more dangerous a week past her one-night’s expiration date.

      “Trouble, trouble,” he murmured, gaze dropping to her lips.

      Trouble. He’d said it just inside her apartment, those hard-hewn features wearing an almost bewildered expression. And then he’d leaned in for one last kiss that had flamed as out of control as the rest of their night.

      “Yeah.” She let out a shaky breath, taking a deliberate step back. “But I swear, it’s only physical.”

      The corner of Levi’s mouth kicked up as he pushed a few fallen strands from his brow. “Thanks. That’s a relief. Me too.”

      “Okay, good.” She was sure that was good. And equally sure there was more truth in Levi’s words than there had been in her own.

      Man, this girl was priceless, but she wasn’t getting that dog home alone. All it would take was a pigeon or some stray scrap of trash blowing by and little miss muddy package wouldn’t just smear through the grass—she’d be bouncing down East Balboa Street, and Bruno here would be loose for a nasty game of street tag. Neither of which were acceptable. So after a quick check of the time, he said, “Okay, let’s head back to your place. But we’ve got to make it quick. I need to be at the club in about an hour.”

      Her brow crinkled as she gave him a sort of perturbed once-over, crossed her arms against her chest, and took a small step back. “Levi, I really, really appreciate you saving Bruno, and I know I was looking … and then with what I said … but I can’t have sex with you again.”

      Sex?

      On a day when he hadn’t thought he’d even crack a smile, Levi found himself giving into another laugh. Rubbing a hand over his jaw, he shook his head. “I’m offering to help you get the dog home. And so we’re clear, I’m offering in spite of the fact that you were looking up my shorts … not because of it.”

      She blinked at him, shifting her feet. “I swear I wasn’t trying to pick you up with that.”

      “I get it,” he said straight-faced, taking up some of the slack on Bruno’s leash as she waved in the general direction they were heading. “You just like to look.”

      “What—no! Excuse me,” she huffed, all indignant now. “The shorts thing was—ack, just forget it.”

      “Mmm-hmm. Whatever.” The shorts thing was the highlight of his year. And the pretty pink blush burning its way up her cheeks at that moment was coming in for a close second. Especially with the contrasting streaks of mud across her chin and chest, the few blades of grass tucked into the vee of her jogging tank, and the knot of sexy, disheveled gold atop her head. It made her look kind of innocent and dirty all at once.

      Not exactly a turn-off.

      Not that it mattered.

      He’d already decided, no more sex.

      “So how are the plans for the studio coming?” he asked, remembering how excited she’d been about it and figuring business talk would keep his head out of places it shouldn’t go. “You talk to the salon down the street about the reciprocal discounts?”

      The little scowl straining Elise’s lips split into a beaming smile as she recounted the conversation she’d had with the salon owner, then she spun into some ideas she’d had about promotions, the neighborhood, and maximizing the space before touching on a few suggestions he’d made the first time they’d talked about her plans. Her enthusiasm was contagious. Attractive. And the more she bubbled on about square footage and curb appeal, the more he had to remind himself he was just getting Elise to her front door. Not pinning her against it to find out just how dirty and wet that slip through the mud had gotten her.

      “YOU’RE telling me Bruno needs a babysitter?”

      Rounding the corner of her block, Elise shrugged at Levi’s incredulous expression. “I know it’s nuts. But what can they do? He chews furniture and apparently he took a half-inch off their back door, digging to get out.”

      Levi reached down to give Bruno’s ears a good rub. “You need some obedience training, my man.”

      No doubt. “I think my brother-in-law, David, started classes. But then Ally’s pregnancy had a few complications, and after that they had a new baby and—Bruno basically got lost in the shuffle. Family chaos. You know how it is.”

      “Yeah, sure.” The flow of conversation between them came to a standstill as Levi studied the old printing houses, the clock tower rising above the historic Dearborn Station.

      A few minutes later, they were at her building.

      “Well, this is me.” She waved a hand toward the front entrance, the motion stalling when she realized how much dried mud covered the back of her arm. Levi was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen … and this was how he’d remember her?

      Unfair.

      “Thank you for what you did today,” she said, then added an only mildly awkward, “It was nice seeing you again.”

      His mouth took on that lazy slant that