She punched him in the arm. Full-on and with a closed fist. It wasn’t a love tap.
He instantly retaliated, grasping her biceps and dragging her across his seat and out into the snow. A quick duck, and she was over his shoulder, heading into the cabin. “Hitting isn’t nice, Olly.” He planted one hard smack on her curvy ass to prove his point.
Her response was a perfectly placed punch to his ribs.
He chuckled and slapped her again, putting some effort into it this time. The sound she made was half fury and half chuckle.
“You’re ridiculous,” she said as he kicked open his cabin door and strode inside to drop her onto the sofa. Her hair flew in every direction, and her cheeks flooded with a lovely pink color. “If you want to go hand-to-hand, let’s do it, Osprey.”
Now, that was an offer he’d never refuse. “All right.” He yanked both boots off her and returned to the door to shut and lock it, kicking out of his footwear. They both needed to burn off steam and if this was the way she wanted to do it, he was all in. He returned to her, dropping his coat onto the floor. “But we’re playing my way, sweetheart.”
Her breath came in pants, and her eyes sparkled. Oh, she wanted this as much as he did. Wanted to forget everything but just the two of them. Even for only one night. “What does that mean?”
“First one to get the other naked wins. We’ll figure everything else out after that.” Including them. Despite everything happening around them—and there seemed to be a lot—he grew tired of resisting her pull. Tired of fighting his needs. Tired of being without the scent of strawberries around him at all times. “Deal?”
She bunched her legs as if to attack, anticipation lighting her stunning face. “Deal.”
He lunged.
Man,she wanted this. Ophelia kicked out, nailing Brock in the gut and stopping him cold. The impact would’ve knocked most men to their knees, but not the badass ex-SEAL turned sheriff. His smile widened.
Unease filtered through her, along with a sense of playfulness. Of challenge. So, she rolled to the side, hoping to angle over the edge of the sofa.
He was quicker, grasping her jacket and yanking it over her head.
She took advantage of his hands being full of her leather jacket and leaped over the arm of the sofa, landed, then somersaulted to her feet before turning and dropping into a fighting stance. “Thanks for the assist. I wrestle better without the jacket in the way.”
“Anytime,” he murmured, tossing the coat over his head and stalking toward her.
She couldn’t breathe. Just looking at him took her breath away. He was all man, and at the moment, all intent. Broad chest, glittering eyes, powerful hands. “You should give up now,” she suggested, keeping her focus on his feet.
“Don’t know how,” he admitted, his gaze on her feet. “I don’t like being kicked.”
She feinted to the side. “Most mules don’t.”
He cocked his head. “Did you just call me a donkey?”
“Jackass,” she agreed, having more fun than she’d had in months. For the moment, she forgot about her job, the cases,and her unsteady life. There was just here and now and the sexy Brock Osprey while she still had him. “Surely, you’ve been called that before.”
“I surely have.” He ducked and moved for her.
She jumped out of the way in time, spinning and kicking him in the thigh. Her landing graceful, she struck out with the second kick to take him down, but he moved faster than she’d imagined.
He grabbed her ankle with one hand and lifted, wrapping his free arm around her waist and taking her to the floor. His arm and knees took the brunt of the impact, keeping her safe. Rough hands grasped her shirt and ripped it down the middle. He nipped her neck, then rolled off her, coming to his feet. “Pretty bra.”
Damn it. She shrugged out of the useless shirt and stood, slightly out of breath. So far, she wasn’t winning. It was time to play dirty. Her shoulders went down, and she shook out her hands as if injured. He paused. Then she struck, tackling him at the thighs. His arms windmilled as he went back, landing on his butt with his torso going down.
She rapidly unbuckled his belt and stood, pulling it free.
There was absolutely no doubt in her mind that he allowed her to take the leather from him. Even so, she cracked it in the air, coming precariously close to his right ear.
He sat, and one of his eyebrows rose. “You’d do well to remember that I hit back, sweetheart. I have no problem turning you over my knee, so watch it with the belt. It’s a threat you can’t back up.”
His words were a low rumble that licked across her skin, flaring nerves to life. Her butt more than likely still held the imprint from his hand, and the warmth there hadn’t abated. Her entire body fired up. For him. “Is that a threat?”
He levered to his knees, still looking powerful. Those eyes glittered a surreal green. “Damn straight.”
Her butt actually clenched. It wasn’t like she would smack him with the belt. “Whatever.” She threw the belt across the room.
