Page 10 of Blocked Shot
Jake clears his throat behind her and she startles, snapping the book shut. She turns, pressing the paperback back onto the shelf as she meets his gaze. She hadn’t heard him approach.
“I wasn’t snooping,” she blurts. The warmth creeping up her neck betrays her.
He twists the cap off his beer, taking a slow sip before answering. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”
She exhales, relaxing a little. “Someone once told me the best way to get to know someone is by looking at their bookshelf.”
His lips quirk. “Oh yeah? What does mine say about me?”
She tilts her head, considering. “That you’re a man of varied tastes. Some serious, some more adventurous. You are obviously into sports. It’s a solid bookshelf. I’d give it a nine out of ten.”
“Only a nine? That won’t do. I’m very competitive. What’s it take to get a ten?”
Natalie taps her chin, feigning deep thought. “Romance,” she says finally, meeting his eyes with a teasing glint. “Or something that gives insight into a woman’s psyche.”
Jake leans against the counter. The corner of his mouth pulls up to reveal the faintest hint of a dimple.
Of course there’s a dimple.
“Guess you’ll have to take me shopping sometime.”
She shifts her weight again as the tension creeps back in. He notices, and instead of making another joke, he tilts his head.
“Hey,” he says, voice softer now. “You still good?”
Jake watches her for another beat before stepping closer, slowly, giving her the chance to pull away. She doesn’t. Instead, she tilts her chin up, meeting his gaze head-on. A challenge.
Natalie’s breath catches as he lifts a hand, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear. The heat of his fingers lingers against her cheek, and then before she can overthink it, he’s leaning in and kissing her.
It’s soft at first, almosttesting. His lips are warm against hers, the scent of his beer mixing with the faintest trace of cologne and laundry soap. When she doesn’t pull away, when she reaches her fingers to brush against his forearm, he deepens the kiss slightly, his other hand settling lightly at her waist. Her pulse hammers, anxiety melting into something hungrier.
When he pulls back, his blue eyes search hers. “Still thinking too much?” he murmurs.
She exhales shakily, a small, almost breathless laugh escaping. “Probably.”
Jake smirks. “Guess I’ll have to do something about that.”
CHAPTER 7
NATALIE
Jake doesn’t hesitate. His hand is at the back of her neck before she even breathes, fingers threading through her hair with a surety that feels both practiced and deeply personal. Then he’s pulling her in, and his lips brush her throat, featherlight at first, before they press more firmly against the sensitive spot beneath her jaw.
A soft whimper slips from her lips before she can stop it, and he groans low in his throat. The sound vibrates against her neck, sending a rush of heat through her. Her knees threaten to give.
He trails kisses lower, down the curve of her collarbone. She reaches for him, fingers digging lightly into his shoulders, trying to anchor herself as she lifts onto her toes, silently offering more of herself. More ofthis,please.
And then he pauses. Lifts his head. Cradles her face in one big, steady hand like she’s something breakable.
“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, almost like the words slipped from a place he can’t control anymore.
Her stomach flips, heat blooming beneath her ribs, spreading outward like fire catching dry kindling. She tries to look away, to hide the way his words pierce through all her careful shields, but he won’t let her. His thumb tips her chin back up, forcing her eyes to meet his—and God, his eyes. They look like they’re burning, too blue and too wild, too raw with something she doesn’t know how to name but feels in every part of her.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he says, voice rough and ragged, thick with want, like gravel dragged through honey. His mouth is so close she can feel the heat of him on her lips, the tension between them snapping tight as a wire.
A shiver ripples low in her spine. “Jake…”
“I can’t stop,” he murmurs. “Can’t stop looking at you, can’t stopwanting?—”
