Getting Hotter Excerpt:

Put Us Both Out of Our Misery.

Miranda dug her thumbs into the arch of her foot, knowing the ache in her feet didn’t bode well for the rest of the night. She had four hours left in her shift. Four hours of running up and down that bar catering to the Friday-night crowds. And tomorrow she’d be in the dance studio from morning until late afternoon. Her poor feet were definitely going to revolt if she kept this up.

“What’s wrong?”

Seth’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She glanced over, frowning. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“You just groaned. A weary, life-sucks-ass type of groan.”

She blinked. “I did?” When he nodded in confirmation, she let out a sigh. “I was just thinking how I have to be at the studio at ten in the morning tomorrow and how much my feet are going to hate me for it. Tending bar all night and then standing en pointe all day is no piece of cake.”

“No, I imagine it isn’t.”

He sounded genuine, not a hint of condescension in his voice, and Miranda’s eyebrows rose. “Really? You’re not going to roll your eyes and tell me I know nothing about real pain? You know, ’cause I’m not a badass SEAL like you?”

“Trust me, babe, I’ve got nothing but the utmost admiration for dancers. Once when I was a kid, I sat there watching my mom soak her feet after three back-to-back performances.” Seth blanched. “To this day I’m confident in saying that what her feet looked like that night is comparable to any battle wound I’ve come across.”

Miranda burst out laughing. She didn’t doubt it. People often had an idealistic view of dancers as beautiful, magical creatures, but one look at a dancer’s feet and that bubble of perfection was liable to burst. Calluses, blisters, cracked toenails, red, flaking skin…hardly beautiful or magical.

For a moment it surprised her that Seth knew what actually lay behind the curtain, until she remembered that he’d pretty much grown up backstage at the iconic Paradis Theater on the Vegas Strip. His mother had been the star of the show for twenty years before retiring, and now worked as the head choreographer. Missy also happened to be Miranda’s mentor and staunchest supporter; for a girl who’d grown up without a mom, Miranda had been utterly grateful to have someone like Missy in her life. After Miranda’s grandmother died and left her that small inheritance, Missy was the one who encouraged her to buy the dance school in San Diego, and it was the best decision she’d ever made.

“I should get back to work.” She leaned forward to slip into her sneakers, only to jump when she felt Seth’s hand on her arm.

Her breath caught. She found herself going still. It had been so very easy to shrug out of that young guy’s grip in the hall, but here, with Seth, she couldn’t bring herself to push him away.

“How long are we going to fight it, Miranda?” His voice was rough, his expression darkening with what she could only describe as sinful challenge.

She gulped. Ignored the flashes of heat rippling over her flesh. “Fight what?” she asked, feigning ignorance.

He laughed, slow and deep. “You’re really gonna pretend it’s not there? The chemistry between us?”

“We don’t have chemistry.”

And yep, she was a filthy liar. She and Seth Masterson had so much chemistry they could open their own laboratory. Or teach a college science seminar. Or—

He cut into her thoughts once more. “I’ve been very patient up until now. Pretending not to notice the way your nipples get hard whenever I’m around. Acting like it’s the temperature that brings that red flush to your cheeks when we both know it’s pure sexual arousal setting your skin on fire. And don’t get me started on the way you look at me.” His voice grew even raspier. “Those big hazel eyes of yours eat me up like I’m a big, juicy steak, baby.”

Nipples hardening? Check.

Cheeks scorching? Check.

Eating Seth Masterson up with her eyes? Well, she couldn’t tear her gaze from the sensual curve of his mouth or the strong line of his jaw, so yeah, might as well check that off too.

Even though Seth must have noticed all three responses, Miranda decided to keep playing dumb. It was the only way to maintain some semblance of control over a conversation that had swiftly and unexpectedly gotten out of hand.

“Big, juicy steak?” she echoed dryly. “Someone thinks highly of himself.”

He just laughed. “We both know you’re attracted to me.”

“Oh, we both know that, do we?”

“And I’m attracted to you,” he said with a shrug. “But unlike you, I’m not gonna bat my eyelashes like a Disney princess and act like I don’t want to get you naked.”

She swallowed again. Harder this time. Her mouth was so dry she felt like she was swallowing sand, but she didn’t dare reach for her water bottle because she knew Seth would comment and attribute her sudden thirst to the effect he had on her.

“I have to get back to work.” Wiggling out of his grasp, she quickly stumbled to her feet.

But Seth was equally quick. He stood up and caught her around the waist with one muscular arm. He didn’t yank her into him, just rested one hand on the small of her back and used the other to tip her chin up so she had no choice but to look at him.

“Say the word, Miranda.”

Her heart was beating so fast she could barely hear her own voice over the frantic hammering. “What word?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?” she stammered.

He gave that mocking chuckle of his. “That’s the word—yes. And I want you to say it. I want you to give me the green light so I can finally put my hands all over you the way I’ve been fantasizing about for months now.”

“Seth…” It was meant to be a warning, but his name slipped out on a breathy whisper, sounding very much like an invitation.

“Come on, baby, I’ve been such a good boy.” Those gray eyes gleamed with sex and danger. “Put us both out of our misery.”