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He takes three long strides and places his hands on the back of the bench on each side of me, staring intently into my eyes. I feel naked, the intensity of his gaze stripping me and baring my soul. I’ve never felt so vulnerable yet so desired at the same time. His breathing is labored and I’m completely still. Neither of us moves as my eyes start to drift, and then he makes a deep noise in his throat. My gaze quickly reverts to his turquoise eyes as they probe for something. Between the running, adrenaline, and the intensity that is Jackson I start to get dizzy.

He leans in and drops his head to the side of my neck, taking two deep breaths. I can feel the tension, the turmoil rolling through his body. I don’t know what he’s fighting. He runs his nose up my throat and my eyes roll back as I moan. “Keep making those noises and I’m going to get the wrong idea.”

Abruptly, he’s gone. He’s at the start line looking back at me. “Ready for your show, Catherine?”

So damn sure of himself, isn’t he? Leaning back, he lifts his arms over his head, which causes his shorts to drop a tiny bit. My eyes follow the indentation of his hips down to the tiny trail that leads to all things happy. My lips part and my breathing becomes erratic. I’m incredibly turned on right now. He gets in the ready position, waiting for me to tell him to go. I smile inwardly knowing that he’s added about three minutes on to his time with his little seduction game. I lift the watch and yell, “Go!”

Nothing could have prepared me for watching Jackson run the course. Not only does he have a large tattoo on his front, he has one on his shoulder as well. It’s black and looks like the skeleton of a frog. His body moves as if he was made for this—each leap graceful and precise, every step calculated. His body moves, his muscles tighten, and my mouth waters at the sight of him. There’s no time for me to return the favor of climbing to the top of the ginormous building, so I decide to rush over to the bottom of the steps. Jackson still has a little time before he makes it over there, although with the way he’s moving, it may be a lot faster than I’m anticipating. I get there before him and try to climb a couple flights, but the five-alarm fire burning in my legs prevents me from getting too far. I sit on the steps instead, trying to appear casual as Jackson starts to climb.

I lie across the step and rest my hand on my propped-up knee. He gets to my step and stops briefly, letting out a throaty laugh. “Nice try, babe.” He leaps over me and laughs the rest of the way up.

I turn and yell in his direction, “Hey! Not fair!”

I look up and see him descending a rope faster than I thought humanly possible. Somehow when he reaches the bottom, he’s not even winded. He sprints to the end, finishing without breaking a sweat. Jesus!

He yells back, “Done! Press stop!” as I gingerly walk to him, trying to lessen the throbbing in my muscles. Jackson heads toward me with a huge smile on his face as I press the button.

I place the watch in my back pocket. He’s not getting it until I know my time. “So, Jackson, you tell me my time and I’ll tell you yours. Then we can see who the winner is.” I raise my eyebrow, smiling coyly.

He reaches forward and pulls me against him. “First, dinner. I’ll tell you then.”

“What?” I huff. “No! I want to know now.” I purse my lips and push back from him.

“Too bad. If you want it, you have to have dinner with me. Besides, you owe me anyway.”

“Ugh! You don’t fight fair.” He drives me insane. On the other hand, I haven’t had this much fun since … I can’t even remember. He makes me laugh and feel special. There are worse ways to spend my evening than dinner with an extremely sexy and agile and funny and powerful and … Oh man. This is bad. He’s all of those things, but he’s also my client. Still, he doesn’t seem to be concerned with that little fact.

His low voice halts my mental debate. “Stop overthinking. It’s dinner—we can even talk business. Plus, don’t you want to know how bad you lost and if you get your spa day?”

I grab the watch, taking a picture of his final time with my phone. I clear the display and then hand it back to him. His time was outrageously long—that makes me smile. And now that I have the proof in my phone, there’s no way he can deny it. “Fine. Dinner, but we talk about work. Then I’ll show you just how bad you lost.” I grin, walking toward the car.

Chapter Fourteen

I climb into the cab of the truck, laughing as I imagine his reaction when he finally sees his ridiculous time.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“Oh, nothing. You’ll see later tonight. Unless of course you’re ready to share my time now?” I smile and bat my eyelashes.

He returns my smile and throws the truck in reverse. “Nice try, babe. But if I give you the time now, I’ll have nothing to ensure you show up tonight.”

“It’s not like I can go very far.” I really want him to tell me so I can watch his face fall when he sees how bad he lost. There’s no way he beat me. Well, there is, just not with the amount of lead-time I added in. If he still beat me, even with the extra time, I’m not only signing up for a gym, I’m getting a personal trainer.

“No, I think I have you right where I want you.” He winks and his cheek rises.

We start driving back toward the hotel, but it’s a different way than how we came. When I look off to the right the shoreline is close. It’s beautiful. The homes lining the street are all quaint little beach cottages with white picket fences and trees that cast shade over the road.

“This area is adorable,” I muse.

Jackson looks over, smiling. “I lived on this side when I was stationed here. It’s the locals’ beach on this side of the bay. You get to enjoy the ocean without the crowds.”

“So if you still have your headquarters down here, do you stay in a hotel every time or do you have a home here?”

I wondered this before but wasn’t sure how or if I should ask. Since he thought it would be entertaining to make me run an obstacle course, I think it’s fair game. If it weren’t for him, my legs wouldn’t be throbbing and my arms wouldn’t be numb.

“No, I sold my house when I moved up to New York. I kept the office here because it made more sense being close to the base. Plus, it gives me an excuse to come back to the beach and see friends.” His hand grips the steering wheel and he puts his blinker on.

“Where are we going?” I ask, confused. The hotel isn’t here, not that I know where here is. But still, there isn’t anything here but trees. I look at the sign as we turn—another military base. No. No. No. I’m not doing this again. He’s trying to kill me. “Ummm …”

Jackson laughs but doesn’t answer. He gives his ID to the guard at the gate and keeps driving forward. “Relax, this will be fun.”

My hands are clenching the seat as I try to get a grip. Jackson reaches over and grabs my hand, pulling it onto the middle console as his fingers intertwine with mine. If he keeps pushing against that wall, soon enough it’s going to crumble. Distance. I need distance. I try to pull away but he tightens his grip, continuing to look forward.

“I don’t believe you. You said the same thing about the last base we went to.”