She's All Tied Up: Club 3, Book 2 Read Online Free Page B

his hand on her thigh, told him quietly she had changed her mind about their plans, and walked out, her mojito unfinished.
    Remembering the surprise, anger and then scorn on his handsome face, she scowled as she squeezed the pec-fly machine together, let it swing wide again and then squeezed again, pretending it was Rafe’s head. Yeah, like a fembot, she’d squeeze until he screamed like a little girl, and begged for mercy, his handsome face contorted with pain. She’d let him go, and he’d drop to the floor, promising he’d never disrespect a woman with curves, ever again. After a regal nod, she’d stalk away, leaving him staring after her, cursing himself for not appreciating her when he had the chance.
    She finished her weight set and sat back, panting with triumph. Until Jake rose from the bench where he’d been doing a different weight off to her right.
    Her heart rate kicked up. She ignored it. She was a fembot, impervious to male splendor. She was simply planning her vengeance on all men. That was the only reason she watched Jake set his weights down and turn to prowl along the mats.
    One of the Barbie girls walked in front of Carlie, her head bent as she fiddled with her headphones. Jake was staring off into the mirror, apparently right at the woman. Except somehow he cannoned straight into her and nearly sent her flying. As the slender blonde bounced off him, his head shot around, and he grabbed her in his huge hands before she could hit the floor.
    “Whoa. Sorry,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the music and thump of machines. “You all right?”
    “Fine, no thanks to you! Seriously?” The blonde stalked away, flipping her long, silky hair.
    Carlie rolled her eyes to herself. Predictable. Put a skinny woman in front of him, and he reached for her.
    “Get lots of girls that way?” she muttered.
    Jake turned and looked at her. His heavy brows were drawn together, and he set his hands on his hips. Oopsie.
    “Sorry,” he rumbled, with the icy alertness of a polar bear turning to look at a plump seal. “Did you say something?”
    Carlie’s already flushed cheeks burned, but she held his gaze, refusing to quail. What the heck—he was never going to be interested in her if he was into diminutive dolls. She shrugged.
    “Just wondering if that line works for you.”
    “That? That was an accident. Wasn’t looking where I was going.”
    Ooh, was that a little extra color on those cut cheekbones? Nah, just her fervid imagination. “Uh-huh.”
    “What’s that mean? ‘Uh-huh’.” He mimicked her, his mouth quirking.
    Carlie rolled her eyes. “Means I saw the whole thing. C’mon, you were watching her in the mirror.”
    Jake prowled forward. Leaning over, he set his hands on the handles of the machine, caging her with his huge arms. Huge pumped arms, the muscles swollen from his workout, the veins standing out on his forearms and wrists. Oh, God, she wanted to lick them.
    Down girl. You are a fembot. No desire, and definitely no licking. She snapped her gaze up to meet his, which curiously did not look cold at all now. His eyes were…hot. And so was he—she could feel the heat coming off his damp, smooth skin. Acres and acres of plush male-isciousness.
    He also smelled delicious—hot, musky, yummy male smell, even all sweaty. It was clean perspiration. She inhaled, trying desperately not to be obvious about it.
    “No, I was watching you , vanilla girl,” he rumbled.
    Her breath froze in her throat. Omigod. No. Way.
    He widened his eyes at her and made an exaggerated “O” with his mouth, mimicking her. She snapped her mouth shut, glaring at him.
    “And since you started this conversation,” he went on, his gaze trailing down her throat and settling on her cleavage. She watched, mesmerized as his gaze brushed right, left and back to center. “Nice job on the pec flies. You have superb…conformation.”
    And then he sauntered away, wearing the smirk of a man who knew he’d gotten