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He jerked a thumb at Bungalow 9. “This is us.”
Her eyes widened. “Us?”
“I mean you.”
He didn’t mean that at all. In fact—
He lifted a palm to cradle her cheek. She leaned into his touch, flipping the switch of lust inside him.
“Piers…”
“Yeah, Peachy?”
“Don’t wait twenty years to kiss me this time.”
His mouth crushed over hers. She sucked in a breath and he did too, as if both of them had burst out of a pool of water and could fill their lungs for the very first time.
He hauled her closer, pulled her onto tiptoe. With a soft moan, she parted her lips. Need blasted through him, and there was no stopping him from tasting her.
As the tip of his tongue probed against hers, she melted into him more. They shared a dark moan that rang with desire if he knew anything on the topic, and he did.
Angling her head, she stole a taste of him too, smoothing her tongue across his until his cock throbbed.
When the wind blew, her hair whipped over both of their faces, breaking the moment.
Reluctantly, he pulled away. Sylvee dropped back to her heels, ducking her head as if embarrassed by the reaction that had revved all his engines at once.
A soft pink flush crested her cheeks. Then, as usual, she said the exact thing that he’d been thinking.
“That’s been a long time coming.”
* * * * *
Ash walked through the office door and sniffed the air. “You got cinnamon rolls in here?”
Maggie was seated at her desk surrounded by stacks of files. A glance at her computer showed about twenty windows open on the tab. She didn’t look away from her screen but jerked a thumb over her shoulder at the other office. “Avril’s got…” she cupped a hand around her mouth and whispered, “cravings.”
Any other day, he’d take a detour into Avril’s office and see if she’d share the treat, but he had his own treat waiting for him in Bungalow Number 9 and he wasn’t about to waste a minute more than he needed to.
“It’s just as well. It’s you I need to talk to.”
Maggie dragged her gaze from the screen and centered it on him. She really was pretty in a girl-next-door way. He was attracted to more exotic beauties—one beauty in particular. Sylvee had a hint of Cherokee in her, passed down from a grandmother, and her coloring reflected it. All but her blue eyes, which were as sharp as a hawk’s and as deep as a vast pool reflecting the fathomless blue sky.
Though he could appreciate Maggie, especially the freckles across the bridge of her nose.
“What do you need?”
“The woman in Bungalow 9. We’ve claimed her.”
A cough exploded from her. “Excuse me? You…claimed her?”
“That’s right.”
She coughed again. “You and Piers, I’m guessing.”
“Who else?” He didn’t bother pretending they didn’t have a thing going on between them.
“You can’t just walk in here and stake your claim on one of the clients, Ash.” She shook her head, causing her blonde hair to brush her shoulders.
