Straddling the Line Read Online Free PDF

didn’t want to think about some school in the middle of nowhere, and he sure as hell didn’t want to have to think about the bottom line.
    The other thing barreling through his thoughts was the way Josey had laced her fingers with his, the way his thumb was stroking small circles around her palm and the way he wanted to bury his face in her hair and find out if she tasted of oranges or limes.
    He pulled her into the dressing room with more force than he needed—she came willingly—and slammed the door shut. Don’t touch her, he told himself, because touching her again would be a mistake, and Ben wasn’t the kind of guy who made mistakes. He was the kind of guy who fixed other people’s mistakes.
    Still, that didn’t explain why she was backed against the wall, trapped between his arms. Hey, at least he wasn’t touching her.
    “Why are you here?” he demanded, keeping his voice low. No need to shout, not when he was less than a foot from her face.
    She licked her lips. They were a deep plum color, like a fine wine begging to be savored.
    Not. Touching. Her.
    “Jenny’s son is at her mother’s house. It’s a girl’s night out….” Her voice trailed off as she looked at him through thick lashes.
    He was not going to fall for that old trick—no matter how well it was working. “You told her we were going to talk about the school. I already said no. How did you track me down?”
    “I came to hear the band.” Her voice had dropped to a feather whisper. He couldn’t help it if he had to lean in closer to hear it. “I came for the music.”
    “Bull.” No way did he believe that—not even if he really wanted to.
    She swallowed, then one hand reached up and traced his cheek. He wasn’t touching her, but the mistake was huge nonetheless. Heat poured into him, all coming from that one, single touch.
    Just a woman, he told himself. He just needed a woman, and she fit the bill. That didn’t explain why he couldn’t look at her and feel her at the same time without doing something he knew he’d regret, so he shut his eyes. It didn’t block out the sound of her voice, though.
    “I’ve seen you play before.”
    “Prove it.”
    “Fat Louie’s—late last March, although I forget the day. The singer was different that night.” Her other hand palmed his other cheek. So soft. So sweet. “Not quite as good as this guy, but not bad.”
    Bobby had taken the mic that night—Rex had the flu. She wouldn’t know that unless she was telling the truth… but Bobby had left with a smokin’ hot woman that night, and raved about the sex for weeks after that. “Are you some kind of groupie? Did you go home with him?”
    “I’m a corporate fundraiser.” Her voice packed more heat this time, taking his challenge head-on. “I don’t do one-night stands, and I don’t screw men I don’t know.”
    His body throbbed. Two tense meetings—did this qualify as knowing each other? Was screwing on the table? Damn. It had been too long since he’d had a woman.
    “Before that, it was at Bob’s Roadhouse,” she went on. “I think that one was right before Thanksgiving. You did a metal version of ‘Over the River.’” Her thumbs traced his cheeks. Yeah, he remembered doing that. Rex hadn’t stopped with the stupid “stuffing the turkey” jokes all night long.
    He felt his head dip, although he had no idea if she was pulling him or if he was doing it himself.
    “And before that—”
    He kissed her before he could stop himself. His tongue hit her lips, and she opened for him. Lemons. She tasted like lemonade, sweet and tart and just right. She made a small mewing sound in his mouth, a sound of surrender.
    Somehow, he managed to break away from her. He had to, before he did something vulgar like have sex with a woman he barely knew in a closet in a bar.
    “I didn’t know.” Her voice shook this time. “I should have guessed—the way you drummed the desk with that pen—but I didn’t recognize you. You always