Searching for Perfect (Searching For #2)(38)
Author: Jennifer Probst

Pride.

Those deep moss green eyes were filled with a fierceness that froze her in place. He reached across the table and snagged her hand. Warm, strong fingers interlaced with hers in a sign of friendship. Support. And something else. Something deep and beautiful and so very fragile that she sucked in her breath, afraid it would disappear like a curl of smoke.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I see you light up when you let yourself go a bit and think you deserve to be happy. But I get it.” He leaned in. “I know because I’ve been there. You fought, survived, and flourished. You gave the world a big fuck-you and didn’t let them break who you were. That’s perfection, Kennedy. Sheer perfection.”

She blinked, unable to pull her gaze from his. The touch of his skin on hers made her crave more. His thumb rubbed the sensitive pulse point on her wrist, massaging, pressing. Her nails dug gently into his palm, and a low sound came from her throat, a slight whimper of need and want she’d never experienced before. It took all her willpower not to get up, cross over to him, and slide into his lap. Drag his mouth to hers and finally take what she wanted, his taste and essence on her tongue. Filling her body.

A loud clatter of a tray dropping to the floor broke the spell.

She jerked back and pulled her fingers from his. Kennedy spent the next few minutes organizing her trash and recapping her water bottle. She dumped the garbage. He never moved, just sat and stared at her, as if not knowing what to say. An awkward silence dropped between them.

“I think we can call this a successful trip,” she said lightly. “Ready to go?”

“Not yet.” His eyes gleamed with purpose. “Let’s dump the bags in the car first.”

“Then what?”

He smiled slowly. “Then it’s my turn to collect on my favor.”

NATE GUIDED HER INTO the computer simulator and prayed for focus. As much as he hated malls, this one boasted a huge indoor playground that included a roller coaster, video games, bowling alley, and an updated golf simulator. He rarely used them anymore, but he didn’t want to drag Kennedy onto a course without teaching her the basics first and getting an idea of her swing.

Usually golf calmed his mind when he was feeling overstimulated, and he desperately needed a distraction. So did Kennedy. The humiliation on her face after her confession shredded his control, until he ached to hold her in his arms and make her feel safe. Her strength and sheer force of will took his breath away, but her truth and vulnerability destroyed him.

He was crazy about her.

A loud sigh drifted toward his ears. She wiggled her ass and shifted on her heeled black sandals. Her toenails were scarlet red, and strings of rhinestones were encased across her foot. The famous toe ring shone brightly and dared him to do something naughty. “Do we really have to do this now? It’s too crowded.”

He pushed her gently to the front of the line. “I need to know your natural swing ability so I can help you develop when we get on the course. It’ll give you great feedback.”

“Sounds like work, not fun. Why are you intent on torturing me with something I hate?”

He grinned at her playfully. “Payback’s a bitch.”

They went into the room. She took in the large screen on the far wall, the row of clubs hung to the side, and the computer set up in front. “Oh, yay. A dark, airless room so I can swing a ball at a fake movie screen. Sign me up.”

He ignored her and picked a beginner’s course from the screen. “What have you told me throughout our sessions? Have an open mind. Trust you. Be willing to stretch boundaries.”

She snorted. “Fine. What does this thing do anyway?”

“When golfers want to analyze and fine-tune their swing, they can get feedback from the computer. It calculates speed, angle, distance, spin, trajectory, et cetera. There are radar and light sensors around the ball and screen.”

“Hmm, more advanced than a Wii, huh?”

“Yes.” He tried a few clubs, picked one, and handed it to her. “We’ll use this. Get a feel for it first and take a practice swing.”

She grasped the club in her hands, lifted it back, and swung through. “There. Can I do it for real now?”

“No. I need to show you the proper stance and hold. Come here.”

She stepped over, and he positioned himself behind her. Dragging her tight against him, he brought his arms around her waist and wrapped his fingers over hers. Her body stiffened. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to show you the correct way to tee off.” He bit back a groan when she did another wiggle. The lush curve of her rear pressed against his dick. Her scent swarmed him, a touch of tangerine and sandalwood that made his mouth water. The silk of her hair brushed his cheek. Nate yanked his mind off his body and ran through mathematical sequences until he was able to refocus. “Hands placed over each other. Index fingers pointing down. Choke up on your grip.”

He adjusted, then drew her arms back behind her head. “This feels awkward,” Kate remarked.

“It should at first. This is about where you want to stop. Now, shift your hips back. Your power is going to come from the hips and legs.” Her denim-clad thighs slid past his and ripped a groan from his lips.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Now you need a complete follow-through. Keep your eyes on the ball and swing.” She did. “You didn’t keep your eye on the ball.”

“Yes, I did!”

“No, you thought you did. That gets beginners all the time. What’s the best thing you’ve ever seen in your life?”

“What?”

He let out an impatient breath. “An image. A photo. What was the most intriguing image you set eyes on, where you felt like you couldn’t look away?”

Her cheeks turned pink. “My cousin showed me a copy of Playgirl. I had never seen a naked man before.”

Nate stabbed a finger toward the floor. “That ball is your first naked man. Got it?”

She giggled. “Don’t you mean balls?”

“Concentrate.”

“Sorry.”

“Now, do it again.” He made her practice a few times until he was satisfied she got her basic grip, stance, and gaze on the ball. “Good. Let’s try it now with the simulator. Move up to the swing pad and get ready.”

“That grassy thing there?”

“Yes. Relax, breathe, and concentrate on the ball.”

She mumbled something under her breath but obeyed. She wriggled her hips, adjusted her grip, and gazed at the ball. He wondered what man she was fantasizing about naked. The idea annoyed the crap out of him, so he pushed the thought aside.