He snorted a disgusted, manly grunt of irritation, and moved his fingers over his own controller. The tendons in his neck were strung taut, that muscle visibly clenched in his jaw, and he radiated controlled, powerful focus.
She spread her fingers wider and glanced at the screen.
The horizon came back into view at the top of the screen, a strip of blue over the massive green forests on the ground. Slowly but surely, Lance righted the plane.
And he hadn’t even broken a sweat.
She couldn’t say the same.
“Pick up your damn controller andfly,” he said.
Her hands mindlessly followed his orders, fumbling for the controller until she had herthumb back on the throttle, blinking at the various knobs and buttons and trying to remember which ones were rudders and ailerons and the tail.
“More thrust,” he ordered.
Her thumb pressed upward.
“Good. Now ease off—that’s enough—and hold it there.”
He tossed his controller aside. She forced air into her nose while he stood and unhooked the button on his jeans.
Her nipples went painfully hard.
In one swift motion, he had his pants down at his ankles. He sat on her couch in his black boxer briefs and tugged the jeans the rest of the way off, tossed them onto her coffee table, then lounged back. His legs were long, lean, sculpted perfection, and his white gym socks added an odd, almost cozy sexiness to him. She had an inexplicable desire to lick his kneecaps.
But what truly had her heart sputtering was the thick bulge in his boxer briefs.
If he could usethatjoystick half as well as he righted video game airplanes…
“Left rudder,” he said. “You’re veering off course.”
Was he kidding?
She couldn’t have operated a door handle, much less control a video game airplane.
And he hadn’t yet picked his controller back up.
“Pay attention to the screen.” He was still using thatI am a pilot godvoice, but this time, instead of her body instantly snapping to attention and taking orders, her rebellious streak roared back to life.
She let her gaze linger over his body. The sinewy muscles in his forearms. The flat copper nipples on his hard pecs. His stubble. His treasure trail. His erection.
“No reward until you land the bird,” he said.
“Oh, sugar, you sure you want to do that?”
He reached down and whipped off one sock.
She dropped her controller on the floor, stood, and slowly popped her button and slid down her zipper.
Miss Higgs crawled into her cat bed with a sigh and turned her back on them.
Kaci arched her back, tucked her thumbs in the waistband of her jeans, and took her time pushing them down first one hip, then the other.
Lance’s eyes went coal black. His boxer briefs visibly strained, and his biceps bunched again.
She stepped out of her jeans.
His lips parted.
