Bad Girl Therapy (Book 3)


- Good at Being Bad (Book 1)
- Igniting the Bad Boy (Book 2)
- Bad Girl Therapy (Book 3)
Boys of Beachville, Book 3
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She might be calling the shots but he's playing for keeps...
Pro soccer star Cole Landon has women at his fingertips, but there's always been one who was untouchable. Haley Jones, the high-school crush from the right side of the tracks—and way out of his league.
Sidelined with an injury, he's cooling his heels in Beachville when he discovers his physical therapist is none other than the perennial good girl herself.
Bored with men who pay more attention to their smartphones than her, Haley longs for a summer fling that won't risk her reputation. When Cole shows up in town, her hormones tell her he's the one man who will scratch her itch without tarnishing her good girl image.
No one's more surprised than Cole when Haley suggests his private beachside cottage is the best place to begin his...therapy. Apparently money really can buy love. She wants to play? Then play he will.
As hot days turn to scintillating nights, Haley begins to realize there's more to this playboy than meets the eye. Until Cole gets news that could put them once again on opposite ends of the playing field.
Warning: Certain elements of this physical therapy can result in sweating, panting and unusually high heart rates. The therapeutic value of massage "therapy", in particular, is increased levels of endorphins that act as a pain reliever. For excessive swelling, lie down and take 2x daily (or as many as you can get!).
She was touching his leg.
She was touching his goddamn leg, and if she didn't stop soon his cock was going to burst through the velour shorts she'd put him in and let everyone in the room know he was hot for his therapist.
Why the hell hadn't he remembered to bring his own shorts anyway? Probably because when she'd called to remind him of his early morning appointment he'd been too busy conjuring up erotic images of the two of them coming together instead of concentrating on her very specific instructions, ones that involved bringing a change of clothes for his physiotherapy session.
Fuck.
READ MORENow here he was, sprawled out on her examination table in a pair of unflattering grandma shorts while Haley Jones-the good girl from the right side of the tracks, the same girl who'd given him a three-year boner in high school-ran those soft, sensuous fingers of hers over his leg. Of course, he had to expect that she was going to touch him. After all, he was at the clinic for physical rehabilitation in an effort to strengthen his injured leg before soccer training began back up in the fall.
Haley spoke quietly to her assistants before they left the room. Once they were gone, leaving him alone with his hot health-care specialist, Haley focused solely on his damaged leg. As she gave him her full, undivided attention, his glance raced over her and he found himself fighting the incredible urge to brush his mouths over hers, to see if she tasted as sweet as she looked.
Her eyes narrowed in concentration. "Okay, now I want you tell me when it hurts."
Oh man, it already hurts.
"What?" Cole asked as he worked to clear his lust-addled brain.
White teeth flashed in a smile, and when she shot him a sexy glance, one that could undoubtedly turn a sane man crazy, Cole got the distinct impression she was flirting with him. But good girls like Haley Jones didn't flirt with bad boys like him, who came from the wrong side of the tracks.
Her painted lips puckered seductively, and as her fingers probed his injury, he tried not to think about how that luscious mouth would feel on his flesh, around his cock.
Damn.
She furrowed her brow and questioned, "Cole, are you paying attention?"
"Yeah." He raked a damp hand through his hair and glanced around the sterile examination room, trying to think about something other than the beautiful woman at the foot of the table and the way that curvaceous body of hers turned an uncomplimentary pair of scrubs into a sexy, Victoria's Secret spread. "I...uh...I was just thinking about where it hurt."
Okay, so it wasn't exactly a lie.
She leaned closer, until her long, blonde ponytail fell over one shoulder and sensuously brushed along his leg, taunting his erection to the point of pain. When he got a whiff of her citrus perfume, all sweet and seductive like her, his cock jumped, and he was pretty fucking certain if he didn't soon relieve the pressure building in his groin, he was going to do some serious damage.
He shifted uncomfortably, hoping her bedroom blues didn't stray to the bulge tenting his shorts. Christ knew girls like Haley Jones weren't into guys like him, so the last thing he wanted was for her to see how much she aroused him.
"Okay, let's try this again." She pressed two fingers against his calf. "I'm going to run my fingers along the nerve, and I want you tell me when the pain intensifies."
Concentration moved over her face as she worked her fingers down his leg to gauge the severity of his injury. Desperately needing a distraction from her touch, he took that moment to think more about the untouchable good girl who'd been gifted with every privilege life had to offer. Smart, sexy, dedicated and cultured, Haley hadn't changed much since their teen years.
Then again, neither had his feelings for her.
There was just something about Haley that drew his attention and filled him with raw, sexual need. Despite her privileged life, she had genuine empathy for others, and had always been professionally driven, even back in high school. And while she'd never shown any sort of interest in him, sexually or otherwise, it still didn't stop him from thinking about her, or from wanting her in his bed.
"Right there," he said, stopping her when the pain shot up his leg.
With that she stepped away and rolled a machine to the table. Cole propped himself up on his elbows to watch her stick tape and wires to his calf. She flicked on the machine, and then adjusted the dials until he could feel a strong pulse.
"I'm going to stimulate the muscle," she explained before gesturing with a nod to the exercise charts on the wall. "Then we're going to talk about your therapy."
Once she had the dials turned to high, she grabbed a pillow and placed it at the head of the table. "Why don't you lie down and relax? You're going to be here for a while."
When he flattened himself on the bed, she leaned over him and fluffed up his pillow. Only problem was her full breasts were so close to his mouth, he was sure if he stuck his tongue out he'd be able to lick her gorgeous, pert nipples through those thin scrubs of hers. Her delicious scent overwhelmed him and his mouth watered, eager for a taste. Fisting his hands to stop himself from acting on his impulses, he made a noise, a half cough-half groan that seemed to garner her attention.
"Everything okay?" Bright eyes widened with worry. "The pulse isn't too strong, is it?"
"No," he said through clenched teeth.
She rested her hand on his thigh. "If you start to throb, let me know and I'll play with the controls."
Throb.
Play.
Good God!
Did she have any idea what she was doing to him?
She wet her lips, and the warmth of her hand traveled up his leg and settled deep between his legs. Her voice seemed a little soft, a little sensuous when she added, "That will help release the pressure."
Oh fuck!
COLLAPSE