That was a kick to the nuts. She didn’t want to train with him. No shit, why would she—after he’d refused her come-on, then made a play for her, all the while warning her she’d just be another one-night stand.

He was in the running for major asshole award.

“Listen, I want to apologize for being such a jerk the other night . . . since the day we met, actually.”

She looked away and shook her head. “Don’t sweat it. I just think it might be better for everyone if I just wait for Dane.”

He nodded. “Okay.” If it was okay, why did he want to convince her otherwise? He turned to leave, then stopped. “Look, if I promise to keep my hands and other things to myself, will you consider letting me train you?” He knew he could help her get ready for this role better than Dane could. He also didn’t want to leave her in the hands of anyone else.

She hesitated for a long moment, staring off into the distance.

“I’ll come back to the gym and let you train me on one condition,” she said finally.

“And what would that condition be?” He wasn’t about to agree to something blindly, but admittedly there was little she could ask that he wouldn’t do. Which terrified him—a lot.

“Read lines with me.”

*   *   *

“When you said ‘read lines,’ you meant . . .”

Parker handed him a copy of the script she’d already practically memorized in her three-day training hiatus. “Read lines.” His squirmy, uncomfortable look as he removed his leather jacket and picked up the script made her hide a grin.

He’d come to her house. He’d apologized for being a class A jerk-face. And now she’d somehow convinced him to read lines with her. He must really feel guilty about his actions the other night. But the truth was, she’d stayed away because she’d known there wouldn’t be a repeat of them. Training with him when he would be so close, his hands on her body, his breath on her skin, when she couldn’t have him was a torment she wasn’t willing to put herself through.

Of course, in hindsight, inviting him into her home when he looked so freaking gorgeous in his jeans and tight-fitting black T-shirt might have been a mistake as well.

Too late now.

“Let’s go outside on the deck. Want a drink?”

“Water would be great,” he said, looking around her open-concept home. “Your house is . . .”

“Too big for one person,” she said. “But I love it. It’s the reason I refuse to move to LA permanently,” she said, opening the fridge. It was true. She’d fallen in love with the ultra-contemporary design the moment her real estate agent had unlocked the front door. The floating glass entryway had been the first thing to capture her attention and then one thing after another—from the spiral staircase with a custom chandelier and the marble fireplace to the backyard oasis had sealed the deal. She grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge and led the way outside through the double French doors.

“Nice pool,” Tyson said, sitting in a lounge chair under the covered portion of the deck.

“Thanks. Swimming used to be my only form of exercise. If you can count floating while reading a book exercise,” she said with a laugh, desperate to ease some of the electrifying tension between them. Being alone in the gym was one thing, but being alone in her house—with a bed so close by—was just asking for trouble.

He shifted in his seat, unscrewing the cap on the water bottle. “Listen, I meant what I said. I’ve been a jerk to you, and I’m sorry.”

Apologies obviously weren’t something he did often, but still she felt as though he was apologizing for the wrong thing. He obviously thought his come-on had made her uncomfortable enough to stay away. That wasn’t the case. Instead of sitting in the chair next to him, she held her breath as she boldly walked toward him and sat on his lap.

His eyes widened in surprise, but he wrapped a hand around her thighs, pulling her closer.

“Don’t be sorry for what happened the other night. Be sorry for the fact that you are so determined not to give in to the attraction you have for me,” she said, softly tracing his bottom lip. She longed to feel them pressed to hers . . . the other night they’d been so close. If the effect they’d had against her neck was any indication, she wouldn’t be disappointed.

He placed his hands on either side of her face, looking into her eyes. “Trust me, fighting this crazy urge to touch you, kiss you, explore every inch of your body is driving me out of my mind. But Parker, I meant what I said. I’m not a relationship kind of guy . . .”

“Who’s asking you to be?” she whispered, lowering her mouth toward his.

His eyes shifted from her eyes to her lips. “I thought you wanted to read lines,” he murmured, the sound coming from deep in his throat as his hands tightened around her legs.

“I just said that to see how sorry you really were.”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second before crushing her mouth with his own. Her hands went around his neck and she pressed her chest into his, every inch of her body aching to be close to him. His hands cradled the back of her head, deepening the kiss as his tongue separated her lips and explored her mouth. She moaned and felt him come alive against her thigh. The kiss was intoxicating, making her feel dizzy as she hungrily demanded more.

He groaned as he broke away moments later, resting his forehead against hers, his breathing fast and hard. “Damn, Parker. This is not a good idea.”

“Fine,” she said, as she stood. Taking his hand, she pulled him to his feet. “Then let’s go for a swim.”

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” he said, stepping toward her.

“I’m not seeing a problem.” She reached for the button on his jeans, then slowly lowered the zipper, her gaze locked with his.

“Okay, but if I’m going in my underwear, so you are,” he said, sliding his hands along her ribcage slowly, painstakingly lower, reaching for the edge of her tank top.

She lifted her arms for him to pull the fabric over her head. Then taking a step back, she unbuttoned her jean shorts and wiggled free.

Tyson’s stare grew intense as he watched her, stepping out of his own jeans.

She turned her back to him, revealing her bare ass in a black, lacy thong that matched her bra.

“Fuck me,” she heard him grumble before she dove into the warm water. The ripples of the waves caressed her bare flesh, making her shiver in excitement. She’d been fully naked in her pool before but even that sensation failed to compare to the tingling coursing through her body as she waited for Tyson to join her, the man who sent her common sense on a vacation and made her body long to be enjoyed.

He had the rest of his clothes off in an instant and she treaded water in the center of the pool as she watched his body dive low beneath the surface.

When he came up again, his arms were around her.

He pulled her close to him until she could feel his solid erection against her leg. “You shouldn’t suggest something like this unless you’re prepared to deal with the consequences,” he growled, staring at the exposed flesh of her breasts above her thin, lacy, see-through bra.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and bringing her body even closer, she lifted her legs to wrap around his waist as he supported both of their weight. “Bring it on.”

His eyes widened and darkened at the same time. “Parker, I’m serious . . . Don’t start something you can’t finish.”

Reaching below the water, she moved his underwear aside and gripped the length of his cock, stroking gently.

He closed his eyes and moaned, his fingers dug into her ass as he leaned his head back. “Fuck,” he said through clenched teeth.

Watching him fight to maintain control was intoxicating and she stroked faster, circling the tip of him with her thumb.

Reaching her other hand below, she gently cupped his balls through his underwear as she continued to move her hand up and down his long shaft. He tightened and pulsed against her hand and she knew it wouldn’t take much more to get him there. She slowed her pace a little, liking the control she had at that moment. The look of wanting in his eyes as they remained locked with hers made her ache with her own longing to be touched, teased, and satisfied.