From New York Times bestselling author Skye Jordan, Xtreme Heroes is a brand new series starring super-hot extreme athletes and their adventures.Former Olympian turned physical therapist to the elite Julia Bailey knows all about pushing the limits. But when a sexual harassment suit costs her a dream job—not to mention her reputation—she takes on the biggest risk of her life. Rehabilitating the X Games’ most notorious bad boy might be just what she needs to secure the funds for her own treatment center. Problem is, the only kind of recovery her new client is interested in is under-the-covers freestyle—gear optional.Daredevil snowboarder Noah Hunt is a rock star—on and off the slopes. A recent accident might have him down, but he’s far from out. He doesn’t care what the sexy therapist with the sweet curves says. He’s got sponsors to impress and trophies to collect, and taking things slow and steady just ain’t his style. A little dirty talk and a sizzling night later, Julia learns just how fast and hard he likes to play. Too bad for him, his heart goes all in, and one wrong move could cost him more than just his career.
They spent the next fifteen minutes crawling up and down the hallway, Julia strapped into is practice board, a strange blend of skateboard and snowboard, until Julia figured out the basics. Then he taught her to turn around the island and again into the dining room to make a circle back to the foyer.
“All right,” she said, leaning back to bring the board to a stop. “I’ve experienced enough.”
“No way. You haven’t experienced anything.” He stood behind her, put his foot between hers on the board, and gripped her waist. “Let’s get a little taste of speed.”
“Oh no.” She covered his hands. “Noah—”
He pushed off, added his other foot to the board between Julia’s, and wrapped one arm around her waist.
“Oh my God.” She gripped his arm.
“Gotta let go, sweetness,” he murmured in her ear. “Gotta trust me and use your arms to help you balance.”
Trust him? No. Trust wasn’t her strong suit. But independence was, so she forced herself to drag her fingers from his arm.
“That’a girl,” he murmured close, shooting tingles across her neck.
This idea was worse than bad. With his heat and muscle surrounding her, his whispered encouragement in her ear. This didn’t just bring back memories of their night together, it put her right back in their night together. And while she should be focused on learning the board, all she could do was wish they were in bed again, just like this, his thick cock sliding deep, deep, deep inside her.
As if he could read her thoughts, his hips eased into hers and his erection pressed along the top of her ass. She was well beyond damp panties now.
He tightened his arm around her waist, curved his fingers around one wrist, and
stretched her arm out in front of her. His front pressed along her back, shoulders to thighs.
This was the closest they’d been—including all his therapy—since he’d kissed her breath away the day she’d come back to the house with her quasi-contract. And while Noah’s body leaned and swayed against hers, her sexual thoughts dimmed with the rise of speed. They whipped from one room to the next, and her heart rate picked up. Her muscles tensed. Her mind fast-forwarded to everything that could go wrong.
“Hold on for a turn.” Noah leaned back to slow them as he came toward the front door, then tipped them back on one edge and spun a half circle with Julia’s squeal of fear—and Noah’s laughter—echoing off the walls. He leaned forward, shooting them down the hallway again, and now laughter bubbled up from the excitement at the pit of her stomach.
He finally pulled them to a stop in the kitchen. Julia was breathing fast, her heart racing when Noah dipped his head, rubbed the stubble of his chin across her jaw, followed by the softest brush of his lips, creating a surge of tingles down her neck, over her shoulders, and into her breasts, where her nipples tightened into knots.
“Enjoy the ride?” he asked, his voice low and sexy and highly suggestive.
Cease and desist. Cease and desist.
The warning repeated in her head like blinking red lights. She’d obviously been watching too much late-night drama on Netflix when she couldn’t get back to sleep after waking from a sexually provocative dream about Noah.
“Yeah,” she said, a little breathless. “I could see how that would be a really fun sport.” When he didn’t let go of her, she added, “Me, I stuck with boring stuff like running, swimming…”
Still, he didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just held her, his face turned into her neck, his lips resting on her skin. His arm remained tight around her waist, his hand burning a print into her belly where it had found its way beneath her T-shirt. And, God, that all felt so damn good.
“I miss you.” His whisper caught her off guard.
She turned her head a little, her brow pulling in confusion. “What?”
“I miss you,” he repeated in barely a whisper, as if it were more a thought than spoken words. “I miss this.”
Holy shit. What the hell was this? No, no, no. She didn’t need this. Didn’t want to see the unguarded sweetness he’d shown her in the bedroom last week. The one that had a way of making her feel so completely safe. Had a way of making her more uninhibited than she’d ever been.
“You miss sex,” she said. “Don’t worry, it won’t be much longer before—”
“I miss sex with you. And I miss you in my bed.” He turned his head and rested his chin on her shoulder, which was when she realized how incredibly still he was. No fidgeting, no rush of excess energy. He was still and strong and completely centered. “I’ve never liked sleeping with anyone. Now I wake up and can’t go back to sleep because you’re five hundred yards away in a different building.”
Her chest caved a little. Emotion tightened her throat. Cease and desist, dammit. “Noah—”
“And if I’m being honest, it’s cutting into my required ten hours of sleep, Coach.” He pressed his lips to her bare shoulder. “I think we need to do something about it.”
She squeezed her eyes closed, gritted her teeth against the need raging through her, and drew a deep breath. “I guess I’ll just have to work you so hard during the day, you can’t help but pass out when you get to bed.”
She felt the curve of his lips on her skin again. His laughter heated her shoulder. “I’ll let you work me hard day or night, but that probably would cut into training.”
She exhaled heavily and turned her head to glance at him over her shoulder. “Noah…” He was right there, his lips just an inch from hers, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded. Everything in her body surged toward him. “God, you make this so difficult.”
“Good. At least I’m not in it alone.” He lifted a hand and pressed it against her jaw, keeping her
head turned toward him, then covered her mouth with his, no warning, no prep, just bam.
His lips felt like they were charged with electricity, little tingles running in chaotic bursts over her own. He exhaled, and his body softened behind her, molding to her every curve. But his arm tightened, and his mouth opened, and his tongue plunged inside with a kind of hunger that told her he’d been suffering the withdrawal too.
He was hot and sensual and tasted so damn good. A sound rolled from her throat—completely against her will. But Noah took it as a green light. He slanted his head, deepened the kiss, stroking her tongue with deliberate and erotic moves that made her think about him fucking her, long and deep and slow.
He pulled back to reposition, lick her lips, suckle her tongue, never giving Julia the chance to speak. And without being able to hear her own denials or think quick enough to spark practical thoughts again, she was sliding toward it would feel so good…
Skye Jordan is a pseudonym for New York Times bestselling romantic suspense author Joan Swan. Skye’s novels are about enjoying that little wild streak we don’t let out often enough. About those fantasies we rarely get the opportunity to indulge. About stretching limits, checking out the dark side, and maybe even acting a little naughty. They’re about escape and fun and pleasure and romance.
And, yes, even love, because while wicked-great sex is good, happily ever after with wicked-great sex is even better.
Skye (aka Joan) lives on the central coast of California in the heart of wine country with her husband and two daughters. As often as possible, she retreats to a hotel with critique partners for a power-writing week where much drinking, laughing, and yes, even working, ensues. When she’s not writing, Skye goes to breakfast with her hubby, attends her daughters’ barrel races, and spends a lot of time with her own horse, Riddle…while her two dogs, Paxton and Indie, tag along. She also loves to read, knit, craft, row, ride, and dabble in photography.
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