He turned into his building's parking garage a couple of minutes later. Melissa was silent; maybe she'd fallen asleep, he thought. Sick bastard that he was, he wouldn't mind having an excuse to pick her up and carry her upstairs. She could have his bed. Potent images filled his brain: of her naked between his sheets, standing beneath the spray of water in his shower, drying between her legs with a towel.

Working to shake off the X-rated images, he looked over, surprised to see her staring right at him, her amber eyes wicked and wanting.

It was pretty obvious that she'd had a crush on him in her teens, but she'd never looked at him like this before—like she wanted to unzip his pants and throat his cock right then and there.

Fuck.

"Stay there," he cautioned as he came around to her side. The last thing he needed was for her to fall out of his car and smack her head on the cement floor. He opened the passenger door and held out his hands. Once they got upstairs, he was going to make her a pot of coffee, then sit on the opposite side of his living room while she drank it.

She wobbled a bit and he instinctively pulled her into his chest to steady her. Her breasts were criminal, the way their full weight settled against him.

"You know what?" she whispered as she slid an arm around him, gliding her fingertips over his triceps and lats. "I think I like doing things the hard way."

She lowered her face to his shoulder and her hair tickled his chin. It was killing him to keep his hands off her.

Purposefully ignoring the seductive intent of her words, he said, "You'll feel much better once you've had some coffee."

Her smile was lazy as he propelled her into the elevator. She relaxed into his body, and he was amazed, despite himself, at how well they fit together, her soft heat the perfect foil for his solid mass.

"I already feel better," she said with a soft smile.

If he hadn't been so attuned to her every heartbeat, to the way her nipples had peaked beneath her black dress, he might have missed it when she added, "Now that you're here," in a near whisper.

His cock grew another inch beneath the zipper of his jeans. She wasn't making this easy for him. He unlocked his front door and led her into his foyer. Dropping his keys on the front table, he guided her into his large kitchen. Both his kitchen and living room were fronted with floor-to-ceiling glass. Lights from cars, boats, and houses across the Bay gleamed into the granite-and-cherrywood-clad room. True to his Italian roots, Dominic prided himself on being a great cook. Not that Melissa was ever going to find out. If he could barely control himself over coffee, he sure as hell wouldn't be able to keep his dick in his pants through an entire meal.

Melissa moved out of his arms and headed straight to the windows. He put on a very strong pot of coffee, and when he turned back to her he nearly laughed out loud. She'd pressed herself up against the window, her palms flat against the glass. The laughter died in his throat as he imagined coming up behind her, yanking up her skirt, sliding down her stockings, and sinking into her wet heat. Her full breasts would be heavy in his hands, her nipples hard between his fingertips.

His famously steady hands were shaking as he brought over a large mug of coffee. Hearing his approach, she turned and said, "What a beautiful view."

She was far more beautiful than any view, and he couldn't take his eyes off her—couldn't stop the increasingly pornographic images of the two of them naked and sweaty from running through his head.

"Yeah," he finally replied, "it's nice." He took her hand and guided her to the plush couch. "Drink."

God, he sounded like a caveman. He'd never been nervous in front of cameras or out in a stadium playing in front of one hundred thousand screaming fans. So how could one curvy woman make it so hard for him to string more than two words together?

She tucked her legs beneath her and picked up the mug. Bringing the rim up to her lips, she took a sip, staring unabashedly at him over the mug.

"I really do like your place," she said, "but something's missing."

You're missing.

The words jumped uncensored into his brain. Because even with the views and the nice furniture and the gourmet kitchen, she was right: His house had never quite felt like home. Until now, with Melissa curled up on his couch, eating him up with her eyes.

Bringing her here had been a bad plan. A very bad plan.

Because he didn't need to save her from the other players in Barnum's. He needed to save her from himself.

Chapter Five

Dominic had been her very own warrior, swooping in from the darkness to carry her on his shoulder away from all those big bad athletes. That, and being held captive in his car and his condominium, was the most exciting thing that had ever happened to her. He'd picked her up as if she hardly weighed a thing and she'd felt tiny and perfect.

Plus, she thought with a small smile, she was nearly certain she'd felt his raging hard-on in the elevator. Which meant he wanted her.

The gin and tonics were starting to wear off, and she missed the warm, blurry cocoon that had helped her flirt so easily in the bar. She put down the coffee mug and stood up, stretching slowly, making sure that Dominic could see every curve.

"I'm not quite ready for coffee," she said as she went into the kitchen. She looked around for a wine rack, pulled out a bottle of merlot, and held it up. "Care for a glass?"

He shot to his feet. "No. And I don't think you should have any more, either."

She shrugged. "One it is." Opening and closing his cupboards until she found the red-wine glasses, she poured herself a generous amount. She lifted the glass to her nose and inhaled. "Mmm. This smells lovely."

She glanced up to see how Dominic was reacting, and was disappointed to see him sitting on a bench carved from a tree trunk on the opposite side of the room. Well, that wouldn't do at all.

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Tell me what happened today."

She carried her glass to the couch nearest to him. "Nothing out of the ordinary." Which was true. Now that she realized her father had never respected her, the things he'd said to her today weren't much of a surprise.

Dominic's stare didn't waver. "A girl like you doesn't get drunk at a bar for no reason."

"Why don't you tell me, then," she asked in a husky voice. "Why does a girl like me get drunk at a bar?"

He stiffened and she hid a smile. She hoped he was stiff all over.

Rather than answer her provocative question, he stood up, retrieved her coffee mug, and put it on the side table next to her. He reached for her wineglass. "I'll take that."

He was incredibly sexy when he got all caveman on her, but she had no intention of handing over her glass. She was a big girl who knew when enough was enough. And she definitely hadn't had enough tonight, especially since both of them were still fully clothed.

Seduce him.

She closed her eyes. It sounded good. So good. What she wouldn't give for one night with him, for the chance to finally live out all her fantasies.

Seduce him.

How could she resist? He was everything she'd ever wanted, and there was no denying his attraction to her—not when his erection was so clearly outlined by his jeans. Her skin felt sensitive as she stood up and moved directly in front of Dominic. He couldn't back up without conceding defeat, and she relished being so close to the heat of his body, to all those delicious muscles. Waves of heat pulsated between her legs and delicious shivers worked their way up her spine.