Fighting Love (Love to the Extreme, #2)

Chapter 5

When Tommy walked into the kitchen the next morning, Julie was standing in front of the counter. A gray long-sleeve workout shirt clung to her breasts while a pair of black Capri running pants hugged her thighs and butt. When she shifted to scoop a spoonful of protein powder from the container, one toned ass cheek bounced up.

He fisted his hands to keep from going up behind her and taking both cheeks in his palms, while he buried his head in her neck. The desire to do it was so strong he barely kept himself in check, that devilish side of him wanting desperately to know what she would do if he brushed up against her. He’d done it so many times in the past and never thought a thing about it, but now…

Damn it, he had to know.

He stepped forward. As he slid behind her, he put one hand around her hip, a little farther than was appropriate for just a friend. When she stiffened, a smug smile tried to emerge. He brushed the front of his pajama bottoms across her ass and bit back a groan, having to quickly move away as his cock immediately started to stiffen. But he didn’t miss her quick inhale.

A part of him scolded himself for his dirty tricks, but the other parts egged him on to do more.

And right now he wanted to do so much more.

He leaned in close, pressing his chest into her shoulders. “Whatchya making?”

As she glanced up at him, brows raised, she leaned away. “What does it look like?”

“It looks like you’re attempting to make a protein shake, but you’re doing it wrong.” He closed his hand over hers, shaking the protein mix back into the container. Her gaze shot to their hands, then up to his eyes. “Let me show you,” he offered.

Brushing behind her again to go to the fridge, he watched her for any sign of awareness. Her fingers closing into fists was a dead giveaway. When he came back, he casually asked, “Peanut butter?”

She pointed to the cabinet on her other side. When she started to move to get it, he again latched his hand on her hip, staying her. Leaning across her, he pressed his chest into the length of her back as he reached to open the door and grab the jar. He felt a quiver run through her body.

He pulled away, staring down at the back of her head. The urge to yank her around and do some very non-friendly things to his best friend ripped through him. From the way she was responding, he had a feeling she might not object, and that made the desire even harder to ignore.

He was playing with fucking fire. He knew that.

And this fire had the potential to destroy more than just mementos from his past. It could destroy the one person who meant more to him than anyone on the planet. And destroy a friendship he didn’t think he could live without.

That thought knocked him back to his senses.

“You know,” he said, then stopped to clear the huskiness from his throat. “It’s getting late.

Why don’t I finish this while you go shower?”

“Great idea!” She was out of the kitchen in an instant, without a backward glance.

A few moments later, he heard the shower start. A picture of her pulling the tie out of her hair so her long brunette strands flowed free over naked shoulders formed indelibly in his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head as he adjusted his pajama bottoms.

Damn, he need a shower himself. A long cold one. Unfortunately, that wasn’t going to help. It had been a while since he’d had a little him-time. And he needed it right now. Maybe using some of the images that were torturing him—like Julie bent over with him rocking behind her… His cock immediately sprang to full attention. Hissing between clenched teeth, he leaned his elbows on the counter.

This was fucking insane. He was a grown man. He should have better control of himself. But he’d never actually denied himself a woman before. Was that the problem? Was that why he was wound so tightly? Because he was refusing to act on such a natural impulse?

Considering the way he loved women, it made sense…and it made him want to be sick.

The idea of any part of his player ways being directed at Julie was unforgivable—the titillating seduction, the sweaty night in bed, then him leaving in the morning before she was even awake.

Hell, he’d kill another man for even thinking it about Julie.

“What are you doing?”

He glanced over at Julie, who stood in the kitchen doorway, wearing only her red silk robe that hit her mid-thigh. His gaze slipped to the deep V that displayed the enticing shadow of her cleavage. The wet strands of her hair fell around her shoulders.

“Nothing.” He straightened, realizing he hadn’t done shit with her shake since she’d left. “Head started hurting.”

Which was the truth. Just not the one on his shoulders.

“Want me to get you some Tylenol?”

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