Jacquie Morgan is an open book…
Married young and widowed soon after, Jacquie can’t remember a time that she wasn’t defending and protecting someone. When her baby goes to college and her nest is empty, she decides to indulge herself. Attending the F5F Valentine’s Day “come disguised as your favorite superhero” party seems like the perfect solution—but the better one is taking “Superman” home for the night, knowing exactly who is behind the mask.
Pierce Aston has a hidden past…
Pierce is building himself a new life, with no commitments or responsibilities. Flatiron Five Fitness should be the perfect place to find his new balance, with the bonus opportunity to admire kickboxing queen and human resources manager, Jacquie, but he knows he needs more. Going to a party in disguise is right in his toolbox, as is a mission to provide her with a night of seduction—but being with Jacquie is far more addictive than Pierce expects. When she admits that she only wants a fling, how far will he go to convince her to try for forever—or will his past threaten their chance of a future?
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An excerpt from Just One Silver Fox:
At nine-twenty, Pierce headed to the kickboxing studio, anticipation putting a spring in his step. He liked to be early, to check out any variables. He was pumped and a little tired after helping Nate in the weight room for two hours. He’d gotten in his own workout as well as doing a lot of spotting.
The whole time, he’d been wishing the time would fly.
He stopped in the hall outside the studio. It had glass walls on this side and the door was closed, so the sounds of his approach would be muted. Jacquie was working out alone, throwing punches at the punching bag that hung from the ceiling. Pierce watched. She was trim and taut, her muscles tight and her skin wet with sweat, an action heroine come to life. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail that swung as she kicked and punched.
She wore a black tank top and shorts, the Lycra hugging her slender curves, and boots laced over her ankles. Her gloves were worn to a patina with use and her focus was intense. She looked resolute, as if she was going to pound something—or maybe someone—into submission. She landed a hard kick, a good one, and the bag swung, spinning, as she stepped back. She stepped back and blew her bangs out of her eyes, wiping away the perspiration with the back of her glove. Then she pivoted, maybe sensing his presence, and Pierce opened the door to the studio.
“Ready for a more lively opponent?”
***
A shiver slipped down Jacquie’s spine at the sound of a familiar male voice. Sure enough, she turned to find Pierce Aston watching her. How long had he been there?
This was the moment she’d wanted.
He was surveying her, really looking, and she could see admiration in his gaze. Heat rose on her cheeks, a sign of her awareness of him, and she hoped he attributed it to exertion. She doubted he missed a single detail with that laser-sharp gaze. She’d always wondered whether he knew that the women called him the silver fox of Flatiron Five Fitness and guessed, from the little smile that curved his lips, that he just might. He was totally toned, no doubt because of all the time he spent at the club, and in better shape than a lot of the younger men who were members. Pierce was wearing a singlet and shorts, and she knew he’d come from the weightlifting room.
He was usually there from eight to nine-thirty on Monday nights.
Jacquie smiled. “You should know that I beat every contender tonight.” She was proud of that and knew it showed. Some of those who’d come to fight her were twenty years younger. “I’m on fire tonight!”
His gaze slipped over her as surely as a touch and his smile heated her blood to a sizzle. “Thom said you had to have been looking for me.” He reached for a pair of gloves from the wall, watching her as he laced them on.
Jacquie felt herself flush. “I didn’t think I was that obvious.”
“Thom has great respect for your ability to remember all the details about the staff.” A smile lifted the corner of his mouth as his gaze darkened. “And I’m flattered.”
“I’m starting to feel mortified.”
“Don’t. I like that you’re direct. It tells me exactly where I stand and that’s a wonderful thing.”
“Not if you’re not interested.”
“But I am,” Pierce said softly, walking toward her with purpose. “I always have been. I just wasn’t sure the interest was reciprocated.” Their gazes locked and held and Jacquie was suddenly certain there wasn’t enough air in the studio. Her heart was racing, just from Pierce’s proximity—or maybe it was his steady perusal—and she felt taut in all the right places. He was so deliberate. She was sure that if he touched her—when?—he would do it slowly. Masterfully.
She swallowed as he tightened the lace on his second glove. “Slow poke,” she charged without planning to do so.
“The best things are worth waiting for.” He smiled then and she caught her breath at the way the expression softened his features. “Unless you’re impatient to get a piece of me?”
Were his eyes twinkling? They were green, a clear green that seemed intense and perceptive. His lashes were dark and thick, a detail she hadn’t noticed when he wore his glasses.
“Maybe I’ve been waiting for this match since you joined the club.” “It probably wouldn’t hurt to admit that I’ve been waiting for it, too.”
“Because you need your butt kicked?”
“Because I want to see you fight, up close and personal.”
“Don’t imagine I won’t know if you let me win.”
“Who said I’d let you win?”
“Don’t even think it.”
“I didn’t,” he replied with resolve and she hoped he was telling her the truth. “Thom did, but I told him it was a stupid idea.”
“How so?”
“You’d find out and make me pay for it. Better to get my ass kicked honestly.” He lifted a brow. “Or kick yours.”
A fair fight then. That suited Jacquie perfectly.
They circled each other in the middle of the studio, each planning their shot. Pierce was probably six inches taller than her, even though she was tall herself, and weighed a good forty pounds more. He had the advantage of size, but maybe she had speed on her side. They circled but he didn’t make a move, his eyes glittering in anticipation.
Maybe he was old-school enough to think that ladies should go first.
Maybe he thought she wouldn’t take the initiative.
He was wrong about that.
Jacquie punched, Pierce ducked; he made a quick strike and she spun out of the way; then the fight was on and there was only the challenge of winning. They played by the F5F rules: no targeting of elbows or knees, no groin shots or face shots. It was all about speed and agility, about technique—not about damaging the opponent.
It was great. Fast and hard. Intense. He liked to make unexpected moves and defy convention, but so did Jacquie. His follow-through was exceptional and she paid attention to how he moved, knowing she could learn from him. She surprised him first when she caught his shoulder with a sudden strike of her left glove, setting him off balance.
“Nice,” he said in tense admiration. “Ambidextrous?”
“I try.”
“You do well with it, especially when you hold it back. I won’t forget.”
“I’d be surprised if you did.”
His lips set in a hard line and his eyes glinted as he came back at her: if he’d ever planned to let her win, she’d dismissed that inclination. Good. They each made a quick sequence of blows then, and the match sped up. There was perspiration flying. They were both panting by the time Pierce spun quickly enough to surprise her. His first squarely-landed punch caught her in the gut and sent Jacquie backward toward the wall. She was glad that he wasn’t afraid to hit her. She came up fast to catch him under the chin, then twisted him around and swept his feet out from under him.
Pierce went down on the mat, but came up fighting so quickly that he practically bounced. There was a resolve in his expression that Jacquie recognized well. He spun her into the wall but she ducked under his arm and away, attacking him from behind. He’d already moved and they circled each other again, then went at it. They fought all-out even as it became obvious that they were almost evenly matched.
After twenty minutes, they were both panting and soaked with sweat. It was time to taunt him a little, maybe piss him off. People often made mistakes when they were provoked.
“You have to be holding back,” Jacquie accused, hoping it wasn’t so.
His grin caught her by surprise. “Maybe a little.” His gaze swept over her with admiration. “Maybe not as much as you think. You’re good.”
“So are you.”
“Maybe you’re the one holding back.”
“Maybe I am,” Jacquie said, then ducked the blow he’d intended to be a surprise. She flipped him over, hearing his exhalation of laughter before he hit the mat, then he caught her around the knees with one leg and she fell down beside him. He rolled her to her back before she caught her breath, angling his weight over her and the world stopped cold.
His eyes were so green.
His mouth was so close.
The hard heat of Pierce’s body pressed Jacquie into the mat and there was nowhere else she wanted to be. She could feel his heart pounding against her own chest and smell the musk of his skin. He was studying her, as if she was a miracle, as if he couldn’t learn enough. She watched his dark lashes sweep down as his gaze fell to her mouth. He inhaled sharply and might have moved away, but Jacquie stopped that.
On impulse, she locked one arm around his neck and held him there. Pierce met her gaze, his own simmering, his every muscle taut. Even angled over her, he felt so good. So male.
She shivered, deep down inside, and felt her body respond to his.
Then she deliberately ran the tip of her tongue across her lips.
Pierce swore under his breath, which astonished her, then he bent to brush his mouth across hers. His touch was tantalizing, a tease and a sample, a touch to leave her simmering. His gaze searched hers as he held himself over her and she realized that he was asking permission.
Her heart thundered at that. The knowledge that he was a gentleman dismissed the last of her reservations.
Jacquie rolled him to his back, and locked her mouth over his, claiming him with a kiss. Pierce didn’t hesitate. His arms closed around her like steel bands, and he welcomed her kiss. She had the sense that he was letting her have her way with him, which suited her just fine.
The kiss was amazing. Potent. Persuasive. A promise of passion to come. It was hungry and demanding, as if they couldn’t get enough of each other, as if she hadn’t been the only one wanting this to happen. It was a kiss to dream on, one to keep her warm at night and fuel her fantasies, the kind of kiss she’d been needing for years, and Jacquie never wanted it to end.
She sighed with satisfaction and Pierce rolled her to her back, crushing her against the mat as he feasted upon her mouth….
But her phone rang, the sound echoing loudly in the studio.
Pierce lifted his head, his gaze locking on her bag against the far wall. Jacquie winced. The ringtone meant it was her youngest son, and if she didn’t pick up at this hour, he’d have all four of her kids trying to hunt her down.
It was like they had radar.
An excerpt from Just One Silver Fox
Copyright © 2021 Deborah A. Cooke
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