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"So you got out and became a ghost."

"To family traditions." She raised her beer bottle in a macabre toast. "It wasn't alcohol with me. It was trips and spa retreats and yoga clinics. But I'm changing that. I'm not going to be a ghost anymore."

"Instead you want to risk your life by doing the DEA's dirty work." He shook his head in wonder and...awe. Fuck, she was getting to him.

"I want to help people and this is one way I can." The conviction in her voice matched the stubborn tilt of her chin.

No doubt about it; like him, she was a fighter. It called to the bruiser in him, the one who nearly went to jail for beating the shit out of his abusive dad who'd taken a drunken swing at his mom. He knew that fire, that righteousness that powered the do-good instinct. He also knew the flip side, when that impulse ends with the death of the one person who didn't deserve it.

Fisting his fork hard enough that the metal bit into his palm, he shoved the memory of Freddie vainly gasping for breath away and forced himself to make the first lame comment that came into his head as he sat down next to her. "You probably always root for the underdog in movies too."

"Every damn time. That's what you do when you've spent too long in the underdog's shoes." She cut off a bite of chicken, her grin more than a little strained. "Now you better tell me funny stories about growing up with your not-blood brothers, the fighting toilet cleaners, or you'll ruin the taste of what smells like some delicious chicken piccata."

So he did. Embellishing a few of the funny things and playing down the sad, he gave her the short history of the wild bunch of boys who'd grown into men at Devil's Dip Gym under Freddie's wary gaze. By the time their plates were clean, both were laughing about the time Duke dared Marko to dye his hair puke green right before a junior boxing match.

He stood and reached for her empty plate, but she stopped him with her hand on his forearm.

"You cooked, I'll clean," she said, her voice breathy and soft.

Neither of them moved. They just stood there staring at each other, with her tiny hand on top of his arm. Electricity sparked in the air around them, making his whole body vibrate. She did this to him, even without Genie's Wish, because that drug only amplified what he was already feeling. He wanted her. He'd wanted her since the first time she strutted into his gym like she didn't just belong, she ruled the place.

She glanced up at him through her thick eyelashes, her brown eyes dark with desire, and she dragged her teeth across her berry pink bottom lip. He nearly lost it right there because she wanted him just as much.

Take the win when you can get it.

Touching Bianca was like combining the feeling after every win he'd ever had in the ring and multiplying it by a thousand. She didn't want him for his fame or his bank account or that excited little shiver of being with a man whose fists were considered by the law to be lethal weapons. She wanted him. That was the most win he'd ever had in his life.

Done fighting the attraction, Taz dropped the plate. It hit the granite island with a loud clang, but he didn't look to see if it broke. He was too busy kissing Bianca for the first time.

CHAPTER SIX

Bianca couldn't blame the drugs for this and she didn't care. She wanted Taz too much. His lips were like fire, searing her and demanding she take it, take all of him despite the heat—maybe because of it. She couldn't get enough. She needed more of what only he could give her.

His hand cupped the back of her head and he twisted his fingers in her hair, holding her firmly in place as he plundered her mouth. That's what it was. It sure wasn't something as sweet and innocuous as a kiss.

No. What his lips and tongue were doing to her bypassed all of that. Kissing Taz was like having three shots of tequila before noon—wild, intense, and too delicious to spend any time considering whether or not it was a good idea.

Without breaking contact with his sinful lips, she slid off her barstool so she could stand between his splayed legs. She braced her hands on his hard thighs and raised herself up on her tiptoes before sliding her tongue across the seam of his mouth and sweeping inside.

Pleasure, hot and demanding, poured through her, sliding against her sensitive skin, teasing her peaked nipples and settling between her thighs. It was all she could do not to rub herself against him like a cat starving for attention and purr her satisfaction.

Taz's Sex Kitten. That pretty much summed her up right now—except for the fact that she was more than ready to pet him—but he had on too many damn clothes.

She tore her mouth away from his. "Tell me you have condoms in this place."

"Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself?"

She walked her fingers up his muscular thigh, relishing the way his cock twitched against his slacks the closer she got to it, until finally she dragged her nail around the large outline. "This tells me that I'm right on time."

His nostrils flared as he sucked in a breath and fisted his hands at his sides. "Is it the drug?"

An angry heat mixed with the desire pooling in her belly and she snapped straight, whipping her hand away from his hard cock. The words to tell him off danced on her tongue, but then she saw the look in his green eyes and they melted away. Sitting on the edge of his stool, his entire body tense and his hands fisted at his sides as if he were afraid to even touch her, she realized he was a man barely holding on to what little control he still had. He was fighting just as hard as he ever had in the ring.

"No. You heard Keir; it's worn off. Anyway, this is different than before." She grabbed the hem of her borrowed shirt that still smelled of him and pulled it over her head. "This is all me."

Standing before him in only an oversized pair of workout shorts, she skimmed her fingers over her heavy breasts, circling her stiff nipples before gliding them down over her stomach to the bunched elastic waistband. He sucked in a breath, the sound magnified in the stillness of Taz's loft. The green in his eyes darkened and his gaze never left her fingers toying with the shorts. Still, she didn't lower the shorts. She wanted to see just how much he could take before he lost control.

Slow as a snake baking in the Texas heat, his predatory focus traveled up her heated body to her face. "It's dangerous to tease me."


Tags: Avery Flynn B-Squad Romance