Excerpt for Theirs To Share

“You will be happy to know,” Parker said as he walked back into the kitchen and set his phone on the island, “Steve is safe and sound with his agents. He also sent a message for you.”
Cheyenne stopped chopping the carrots and looked up at him. Her heart raced. “What did he say?”
Parker smiled. “That he doesn’t hate you. He loves you.”
Cheyenne smiled in relief. “Really?” She set the knife aside and ran around the counter. With an excited squeal, she wrapped her arms around Parker’s neck and hugged him.
Parker’s chest vibrated with his chuckle as he slid his arms around her waist and hugged her close.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome,” he replied.
It was then, when his voice resonated through his big chest to vibrate against her nipples, that she realized what she’d done and how close they were. Every inch of her body, from her shoulders down to her knees, rested against his muscular body. His heat seeped into her flesh, wrapping around her like a blanket of sexual warmth.
She had a sudden urge to sink into him, to feel his lips and hot breath against her neck. She gasped and quickly pushed away from him. What was she doing? “Sorry,” she mumbled and moved back to the carrots.
“I’m not,” he drawled.
When she looked up at him, he winked, and his lips spread into the most outlandish, wolfish grin she’d ever seen on a man. She snickered, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand before laughter bubbled out.
“That’s better,” he said before moving to the fridge. 
“Where’s Grayson?” she asked, still smiling.
“He’s in the basement putting the weights to good use.”

Her mind shifted to a sweaty Grayson lifting weights. Her hand froze in midair as she thought about all those chest muscles flexing. Did he work out without a shirt? If she stuck her head in the basement, would she get a nice show?
“Do you need me to cut those?” Parker asked.
Cheyenne jumped slightly. “What?” she asked guiltily before glancing down at the knife in her hand. “No. Sorry. My mind just wandered.”
“So,” Parker said playfully. “Not only do you talk to yourself, but you get lost in your own little world at the drop of a hat. Should Grayson and I worry about our safety? Will you go all crazy lady on us?”
Cheyenne curled her lip and pointed the tip of the knife at his nose. “I might.”
Parker took the knife from her hands and nudged her aside with his shoulder. “Do me a favor, Doc. Go downstairs and tell Grayson to get cleaned up for dinner. He can sometimes lose track of time when he’s working out, especially if he’s got a lot on his mind.”
“Okay,” she said, then cringed at how excited she sounded.
She was sure he didn’t work out in the nude, so what did she think she was going to see? The second she landed on the bottom step leading into the basement, she knew, and every part of her tingled with a wild rush of need.
A few feet away, Grayson pounded out his frustration on a standing punching bag. Every thump of his fist hitting the leather sent a thrill down her spine to land somewhere in her nether regions.
Holy crap.
His chest glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. Muscles rippled and bunched with every swing of his arm or punch of his fist. Blue eyes glistened with determination. His jaw was clenched tight. Even the deep ridges of his stomach rippled as he moved.
She normally didn't see men like this. At least outside a magazine. The men she usually saw were older, sicker, and heavier. They came to her on their last legs. She had

a treadmill at home that she ran on, because trips to the gym were few and far between. But even when she went, she never saw hard bodies like his.
Stop staring, Cheyenne. Say something.
“Parker said to get...” He stopped punching the bag and turned his head toward her. She swallowed the sigh that lingered on the tip of her tongue. Get a grip. Get a grip. Masturbate later. “To get cleaned up for dinner,” she finished.
“How long do I have?” he asked.
She tried to think past the fog of lust filling her head. “About forty-five minutes, maybe.”
He nodded and motioned for her to join him. She raised an eyebrow. If she got any closer, she wasn’t sure she wouldn’t reach out and touch him. For crying out loud. She’d been with them for a grand total of three days, counting the trail, and all she could think about was sex. She was bored out of her mind, and if she didn’t stop this fantasizing, she was going to get into trouble.
“Do you know how to fight?” he asked.
“I...don’t know that I’ve ever been in one.”
He made a noise deep in his throat that sounded similar to a snort; then his full lips spread into a smile that made her weak in the knees.
Good grief.
“Then obviously you haven’t. Come here,” he said. “I think we should add hand- to-hand as part of your training.”
“Hand-to-hand?” she asked, but her mind went immediately to body-to-body. Hard body to soft body...to hard body. Sandwiched between the two of them. What an incredibly delicious idea. She shook her head, dislodging the naughty thoughts.
“Why not?” he asked.
“No, I didn’t...” She sighed before continuing. “Why the hell not?”