Irresistible Passions
Diana DeRicci
Published by Purple Sword Publications, LLC
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
IRRESISTIBLE PASSIONS
Copyright © 2011 DIANA DERICCI
ISBN 978-1-61292-012-2
Cover Art Designed By Anastasia Rabiyah
Edited By Traci Markou
Chapter One
The slap of the blue rubber ball reverberating through the enclosed hardwood court was echoed immediately by a deep male grunt as Troy crushed it into the corner for a hard volley return.
A hissed “Shit” and a leap were Angel’s, his game partner’s, next reaction as the rubber ball came rocketing toward him. Michelle laughed as the ball careened defensively off Angel’s racket in a wild upward arc.
“Point!” Michelle called.
Gasping, Angel bent at his waist to hold himself over his knees. “Prick. What was that?” Sweat poured off his face and down his body, drenching his workout tank.
Troy slapped his buddy on the back, grinning madly. “Me winning the game.” The ball bounced and rolled toward them from the upper wall seam.
Michelle ripped her goggles off. “Good game guys.” Bouncing the ball with the net of her gray steel racket, she worked it off the ground to catch in her palm. With the wristband on her arm, she dabbed at her face and cheeks.
Troy grinned huge over Angel’s back, winking at their instructor. Michelle was a riot. Full of energy, not to mention hot as noon in August. Troy knew he was half in love with her. Angel was just as sunk. What wasn’t there to love? She was a knockout on legs, beautiful inside as much as she was outside. She worked at the club giving lessons, but he knew a lot of her time was volunteering with the kid’s sports programs at the community rec center. It was because of her and her efforts that half of Ashmount’s underprivileged kids knew how to play basketball, baseball, and soccer.
An elbow in his ribs made him grunt. Glaring, he faced Angel.
You’re staring, he mouthed. Troy hadn’t even realized Angel had stood.
Holding out a hand, he said, “Good game yourself, Teach.” He did his best to ignore Angel.
Her hand clasped his, not at all embarrassed by the sweat. She was feminine but a long cry from being a girly-girl, at least under these circumstances. Thinking back, he’d never seen Michelle in a position to be a coddled woman at all. Was it a crime that he and Angel wanted to be the first? That they both wanted the woman for themselves? She deserved a man who would love her for all the wonderful things inside of her. Lucky for her, she had two… If they could just find a way to get the ball rolling.
“Not bad yourself,” she replied, shaking then letting him go. “See you two next week. Have a great weekend.” With a final goodbye, she crouched and crawled through the racquetball tunnel, vanishing like a puff smoke. Or their hottest fantasy. Squeaks of rubber on coated wood and hard grunts were very audible from the court next to theirs now that they were done.
“Great job, asshole,” Angel bitched. He punched Troy in the shoulder. “You were supposed to ask her.”
Troy rubbed his shoulder, frowning at his best friend. “And I will. She’s hot and tired. Give her a few to come down from this.” Troy jerked his chin. “Come on. Let’s go clean up. We’ll catch her before she leaves.”
Scooting through the same tunnel, they were soon walking down the hall to the men’s locker room. “What do you think happened to her?” Angel asked quietly as he stripped next to Troy.
Troy shook his head. “I haven’t a clue, but for her to be so cautious, you know it had to be bad.” She wasn’t ever forward with either man, and she walled herself up better than a mummy in a crypt if either of them made any kind of effort to get to know her more personally, at least during business hours. They both hoped their plan for the evening met with a warmer reception than their attempts so far. Dinner was a leap above and over their game schedule with her, but it was the least threatening thing they’d been able to think of to sway Michelle into spending time with them.
Angel agreed silently, wrapping a towel around his waist. “Hey, let’s hit the sauna before we shower.”
“Don’t you think we’ll miss her?” Troy copied his friend with the towel.
“I doubt it. Didn’t she say she had one more class after our lesson?”
Troy went still, remembering to earlier that day, then relaxed feeling secure again. “Yeah, I think she did. We have about forty-five minutes then.”
With a nod, they both ambled to the saunas. Peeking through a glass panel on one door, Troy startled. “Whoa.” He gave Angel a fidgety glance. “She’s here and she doesn’t look happy.”
Angel gave him a light shove. “Then we need to be the friends she needs. Dude, we have to start somewhere, or she’s never going to believe we give a shit.”
Troy hesitated. “True.” Drawing in a deep breath, he opened the door and sauntered in, followed closely by Angel.
* * * *
Michelle sank onto the steam soaked wood, sighing loudly. She was so glad she’d asked Carol to take over today’s spin class. She knew it was going to be hard when she’d agreed to teach Troy and Angel the finer aspects of racquetball, but she’d managed. She just hadn’t expected it to remain that way. As in, every session she was with them.
Come on, girl. They’re younger than you. They’re two hot, young men and you have no reason to be thinking one thing about either of them. Or both. She continued to chastise herself, but it really didn’t help. Even a dead person would be attracted to them. They were a package, each too gorgeous for their own skin, but together… Oh, heaven help her. She rocked her head side to side on the tile behind her, silently berating herself. She doubted either of them saw her as more than their instructor. She was at least six years older than either of them, anyway. Not that she’d be able to act on any feelings she carried, but being near the two hotties always sent arousal humming through her blood.
Sweeping her hair back, she ignored the caked feeling the sweat from her game had left behind. She’d shower before she left for the day.
Carefully moving her towel edges aside, she followed the jagged scar under her arm with her gaze. It ran from the side of her breast to just above where her kidney would be. At least, if she still had a whole one. Shuddering, she just as quickly hid it away again. That was why she knew better than to think she could be with anyone again. She wasn’t insecure, not because she was scarred, or disfigured. That wasn’t even enough to hit her radar. Closing her eyes, the pain of the attack swamped her.
She’d celebrated the one year anniversary just the week before and vats of the pain, emotional and otherwise, lingered. Some celebrated anniversaries of weddings, deaths to remember loved ones, or even smaller events, like first dates. Michelle celebrated when her ex-husband had been arrested for attempted murder. The court date was superfluous. The sentencing, just a final exclamation point.
No, the one thing that made her feel safe was remembering waking up in the hospital and being told by the detective on duty that Bryan had been arrested for attempted murder. There were other charges involved, but Michelle honestly hadn’t cared then, and she didn’t care now.
Clenching her jaw, she sucked air, pushing the memories aw
ay. She’d only returned to lessons part time a few months before. She’d spent a lot of time doing light coaching for the rec center, to be outside, to be with people. She adored the kids. Thankfully, Bryan hadn’t pushed for any. The last thing she wanted would be for a child to have to suffer to his maniacal behavior.
Running her fingers under her eyes, she swept away seeping tears. She knew deep down, she wasn’t to blame in the least for his actions. He’d been bi-polar and no one had known it. But regardless, the reality of what happened to her made it hard to let anyone in again, to care enough to let herself love. She’d been wrong in catastrophic proportions with Bryan.
No, stop it. The doctor told you it was all him. You couldn’t have known how bad his swings would be. Michelle had never seen him snap like he had that day, either. Not once. One minute they were talking over their day, the next he was straddling her on the floor, accusing her of cheating on him.
She’d never seen the butcher knife he’d hidden until it was too late. It had only been her bloodcurdling scream that had saved her. The neighbors in the apartment next to them heard the scream and the ensuing shouts as she’d fought for her life. It was the only reason the knife hadn’t been a through the chest killing shot. She was grateful to this day that the ambulance had been so quick.
Or she’d be dead.
She heard the latch to the sauna door open and quickly wiped her fingers on her towel, not looking in the newcomer’s direction. She moved over a few inches when they sat immediately on her left. She gasped when another person sat at her feet on her right. Blinking, she focused on two known smiles. And relaxed.
“Hi guys. What are you doing here?” She swallowed when her voice sounded husky in her ears. Michelle didn’t bother to point out that they were in the women’s sauna. They would’ve seen the signs outside. It just happened the women’s was across the hall from the men’s.
“We could ask you the same question,” Angel said, turning to rest his arm on the shelf above him where she sat. Resting his chin on it, he grinned lightly. “Playing hooky?”
She shrugged, wondering what they were doing. “Sort of.”
Troy lifted the water scoop and dumped three on the heated lava rocks, filling the room with fresh steam. He groaned as he stretched, flexing his back and sides with long pulls. It was impossible not to watch him. Slick skin rolled with the muscles beneath, the moisture building into a sheen on his body. Michelle turned away before she could be busted for anything.
When he sat straight, he propped his head on his open palms behind him, resting, exposing the length of his summer tanned torso for full viewing. Smooth shoulders eased down into a narrow waist, and she knew what they both looked like in shorts. They had muscular legs, long and lean frames, toned and not desk-jockey pale. She also realized as she took a quick mental snapshot, that he was naked beneath the towel. The towel rested just below his waist, well below where underwear would be visible. She ripped her gaze away, closing her eyes not to be lured again. Temptation, you are a cruel master.
“You feeling okay?” Angel asked, stroking her calf lightly with a finger. He removed it as soon as he’d drawn her attention to him.
Okay, he wasn’t teasing her. Just to be safe, she tugged the towel a little closer, a little higher on her chest, and prayed they couldn’t see how much her nipples had beaded up with them so close to her.
“Yeah,” she answered after a long, drawn breath. “Just not one of my better days.”
“You rocked the court though,” Troy said, cracking an eye with an easy smile on his lips. “Or was that you taking it easy on us?”
She laughed at his ribbing tone. “No, I was okay out there.” She sank back to the wall also, and closed her eyes. “It’s nothing.”
“Do you have plans tonight?” Troy asked.
“It’s against policy to intermingle with clients, or students.” It was such an easy block, she almost hated that it fell that quickly from her lips. Even if it was true.
“One dinner,” Angel cajoled in an enticing voice. “We want to.”
Sweat beaded between her shoulder blades from the damp heat. Only, she wasn’t sure it was all from the steam.
“You’ve been awesome with us,” Troy added in a hummed purr. “You’re a wonderful person.”
“It’s just…” She twisted her hips. Did they have to talk like that? All low, and sexy? It was bad enough she was attracted to them, but it frightened her too. Not them. After eight weeks of lessons, she knew their humor, their quirks, and their general politeness. They treated every woman they came across respectfully, and she’d never heard them be any other way.
But that was only here, at the club.
“Michelle,” Troy murmured, his rich brown gaze pinned on her. He had a head of sandy brown hair, almost a mop really, his eyes only a shade or three darker brown. Angel was obviously of a different background with mink brown, almost black hair, and twinkling eyes that reminded her of her morning coffee. “We know there’s something bothering you. Last week, you were a wreck.” Troy brought a hand forward and held her chin to study her. “Today, you’ve been crying. No one else may’ve noticed. No one else may give a shit, but we do.” Thick lashes lowered for a heartbeat as he thought about his words. When they lifted, there was steel in their brown recesses, an assured stance. But even beyond that, she thought she saw an inkling of affection, of honesty. “Our time as your clients ended half an hour ago. Tonight, we want to be friends. Go to dinner with us.”
Pinning the towel under her armpits, she swiped her cheeks with a stiff, rushed palm. “You can tell?”
It took her by surprise when he swept an unruly length of hair away from her cheek, pinning it behind her ear. “Yes, Michelle. We can tell.” He dropped his hand, not touching her anymore, not crowding her. Just waiting.
It was only dinner. They weren’t asking for much, not really. Her heart fluttered when she accepted that she wanted to. She could do this.
“Where?” She held her breath, anxiety sending a tremble down her spine.
“You pick. Some place you’re comfortable with. We’ll meet you there.”
She studied Troy. “Not worried about what I’ll pick?”
He shook his head, and glanced at his partner in crime, who grinned lightly and also shook his head for her.
Both patiently waited. Watching them, she realized if she didn’t agree today, they’d simply wait for another chance and try again. What they saw in her, Michelle had no idea. At least she wasn’t sporting any wrinkles yet.
“Okay, dinner is fine.” She chose a nice restaurant off the highway, easy for all of them. At the mention of the name, Angel licked his lips.
At her quizzical head tilt, he explained, “Hey, I’m half Mexican. Love Mexican food.” Laughter filled his voice.
“Dork, if it comes on a plate, you’ll eat it,” Troy said, faking a kick at his friend. Unintentionally, it tugged his towel lower on his body.
Oh God, she whimpered inside. Looking forward, she refused to acknowledge the expanse of smooth skin his action had exposed. They both had flat stomachs, not ripped, but who needs six-packs on every guy? She groaned. Quit! They’re your students! And it’s only dinner. Friends. Just because you can’t stop drooling doesn’t mean anything.
“Okay, then,” she said briskly, standing to hop off the wooden slats. She probably had grill marks on the back of her thighs. “Seven good?” That gave her time to get home, shower and dress. And maybe convince the storm of nerves in her stomach that she wasn’t insane in the process of doing all of it.
Angel rolled from his hip to his back, bracing his arms on the bench behind him. Another chest and body to admire. Dark amaretto skin. A faint hunger raised its head, wanting to know if he tasted like the liquor. She pressed her lips together. She refused to let any of the effect they had on her to show.
“Seven works for me,” he agreed.
“Don’t worry, Michelle. We’ll be there.” Troy gave her a warm smile, lea
ning forward on his knees with his elbows.
Firmly making up her mind that it would only be dinner, and then she could go on, she walked out of the sauna. The two men would never have to know how she lusted after them privately. Because she sure wasn’t going to be the one to tell them. She doubted she’d have the courage to do anything about it anyway.
Chapter Two
It was two minutes to seven when she pulled in front of Mí Casa. A cursory glance didn’t turn up anyone standing in the parking lot. Maybe they didn’t come. Michelle doubted she could be that lucky, or unlucky, depending on just what it was she was hoping for.
Checking her makeup once more in the mirror, she fingered the wide curls sweeping over and down her shoulders. She usually wore it in a ponytail or braided at the club. She’d taken it down when she’d expected to shower after their tutored match. Seemed pointless to shower there and then likely have to do it again at home after agreeing to meet Troy and Angel.
“Come on, Michelle. You’re stalling,” she rebuked herself.
With a firm hand on her purse, she slid from the car and walked to the front doors. Not seeing them outside, she assumed they were waiting for her inside. As the heavy wood doors opened, two sexy as sin looking men stood from the waitlisted couches.
“Right on time,” Troy mused. Grinning, he offered her a hand and drew her up to them. “You look awesome, as usual.”
“Soap and water. An amazing invention,” she joked.
He smiled broadly. “Uh oh. Look out world. Michelle is letting her smartass out.”
Angel chuckled standing at her opposite side. He leaned a fraction closer. “Forgive him. He only learned about soap and water himself last week.”
With their bantering and teasing, she relaxed before she knew it. Sitting at the table, they took chairs on either side of her. Adobe spackle on the walls and rich autumn colors gave the restaurant a decidedly south of the border flavor.
“Do you have to work tomorrow?” Troy asked.
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