It’s live and it’s awesome…SWEET SPOT by author Staci Hart should be high atop your TBR, book friends!

I should absolutely, under no circumstance develop a crush on my co-worker–the grumpy, wolf-daddy, much older high school baseball coach.

First problem? He’s twenty years older than me. Second? I’ve never even been kissed. Third? When I ask him to teach me, he says yes.

In my defense, Grey Brooks is a great coach. As an elementary school librarian, I know more about books than swinging hammers or baseball bats. I thought I was a lost cause, but from showing me how to throw a baseball to fixing up my rickety old house, all he does is teach me. And somewhere between the lessons and the laughter, we become friends. So asking him to teach me to kiss…etc, just makes sense. Right? Right??

He makes rules. Keep it casual. Keep it secret. Keep the feels in check.

But in a small town where everyone’s watching, nothing stays secret for long. Every rule we break blurs the line between lessons and love, the rumors are getting louder, and Grey thinks he’s going to ruin me.

He might be right. But not for the reasons he thinks.

Because there’s more than gossip hiding in Roseville. And by the time I see the danger coming, the only person who can save me is the one everyone tells me to stay away from.

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EXCERPT:

“This is not a game to me. So I need to ask you. Are you sure you want to do this?”

I pin him with all the heat in my chest, what he put there, what he sparked in me. “Grey, I want to do this so fucking bad, I can’t see straight.”

A laugh of disbelief puffs out of him, his body relaxing. But his eyes are still red hot when he says, “Good. Now, the fun stuff.”

Our smiles rise together.

“First–you lead. You are in control. We’re gonna take this one step at a time, and at your pace. You will initiate unless it’s a lesson we’ve already agreed to. And if you want to stop, we stop. We can have a code word, if you want. Like…rain check.”

I giggle, writing down rain check real big and underlining it. “Could we have one for, um, initiation? Like, if I want to…you know. Fool around, or whatever. Maybe, Put me in, coach.“

This time his laugh is more of a snort.

“And if you’re down,” I continue, “You could answer, Batter up.“

And I earn a bark of laughter, his face tilted up and Adam’s apple bobbing. “Christ, peaches. All right. That works for me. I think we take it by the classic bases for steps, but I’ll fudge it a little. First–kissing. Second base–touch. Third–oral. Home–sex.” He says it so clinically. Meanwhile, my cheeks flame. “We’ll go as far as you want, at whatever pace you want. Like I said–you’re in charge.”

When I realize he’s waiting for my approval, I say, “Okay. When do we start?”

He grabs the seat of my chair and pulls me toward him. “Now.” One gruff, rumbling word, underscored by a new heat, this one crackling like a live wire between us. “If you want,” he adds when I’m nearly in his lap.

“I want,” I breathe, tossing my pad and pen blindly onto the table. My eyes haven’t left his.

Grey watches his hand as he moves my hair back on one side, his knuckles grazing my cheek. “Last rule,” he says gently. “If I think you’re in too deep, I call a time out. Will you respect that?”

“Uh-huh.” I nod stupidly, pretty sure I shouldn’t be making any major decisions right now. Somewhere in the back of my mind, my heart issues a muffled warning, something about what happens if we fall for each other, but the thought is so ludicrous, my brain smothers it with a pillow.

Because at the moment, I cannot find one single brain cell that gives a fuck.

His legs are spread, the seats of our chairs touching, my legs still pulled in, knees up. With those gargantuan hands of his, he cups my knee with one hand and the opposite calf with the other, shifting me to get me closer, opening my legs. With a tug, I’m all but seated in his lap, my thighs slung over his.

We haven’t even kissed, and this is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.

“Kissing 101,” he says, smirking.

“Wait–should I get my pen?” I ask quietly.

“No. I want your full and undivided attention.” Again, he’s brushing my hair back, but now it feels like an excuse to stroke my jaw, my neck, my cheek.

I’m nodding like a dummy. “Okie dokie.”

“Kissing’s not all that complicated,” he begins, and I watch his lips shape every word, mesmerized. “But there’s a trick to it. It’s not about skill–it’s about paying attention. Matching. Don’t rush…listen to yourself. And then give yourself over to it.”

We’ve gotten closer somehow. I don’t know when it happened, but his breath brushes my lips, the heat of his body mingling with mine.

“What do I do with my hands?”

Grey reaches for my wrists and guides my hands to his chest. “Whatever you want. Do what feels good.”

His tee is soft beneath my hands, and I can feel his heart beating hard. I skate my hands down the his pecs, his rock hard nipples tight beneath my fingertips. Goosebumps race up my arms.

“Angle like this.” He cups my jaw with both hands, tilting my face. “Otherwise you’ll smash noses. Get close, close enough to feel each other’s breath.” For a second, we wait there, his fingertips shifting against my neck. He’s too close to see, so I close my eyes and memorize the feeling of every place we touch, starting with my hands, still skating across his chest slowly, the hammer of his heart vibrating into my fingertips. “Follow me,” he whispers against my mouth. My stomach drops.

Anywhere.

He draws a breath that pulls me closer, his hands firm and tender, holding my face like a sacred thing, the stretch of silence unbearable until–

A shock of softness, and the world narrows–no sound, no motion, just pressure and heat and Grey. His lips are hot and pliant, gentle.

Polite.

He pulls away, and I almost fall into him, my lips chasing his.

My eyes blink open to find him watching me. He’s conflicted, some war waging behind his eyes. And I am unabashedly pouting.

“Grey.”

“What?”

I pause, eyeing him in challenge. “I know you can do better than that.”

The flare in him singes me, leaving me smoldering. My face is tilted up to his, and he peers down into my eyes, into me. “Molly…” It’s a warning.

“Do it,” I whisper.

The heartbeat of his hesitation is eternal. And when his restraint snaps, my world snaps with it.