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A pause.
“What do you think?”
Right.
Shane closed his eyes and prayed for strength. He knew that tone. That underlying huskiness in her voice. It meant she wanted something, and even though his dick was doing the fucking mating dance in his shorts, he wasn’t so sure this was a good idea.
He didn’t want this to be just about sex. Not anymore.
Slowly, he turned around and swallowed hard.
She was a few feet from him, standing in a pool of moonlight, as naked as the day she was born.
Holy hell, but she was the most breathtaking thing he had ever laid eyes on. Hands down. No one came close to Bobbi Jo Barker. Not in his books. Not in this lifetime. Not in any lifetime past or in the future. It just wasn’t possible.
She advanced on him, her long legs closing the distance between them like a dancer crossing the stage, full of grace and catlike sensuality. Her breasts bounced as she walked, the nipples erect from the cold and his gaze moved hotly over both of them.
When she stopped, just beyond the edge of the hot tub, he croaked. It was a juvenile, angst-ridden teenage sort of sound, but what the fuck? He could barely speak.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Her eyes were shadowed, their blue depths dark and huge in her face. That hair that drove him crazy with its texture and smell was all over the place. It looked like she’d just tumbled out of his bed, and her mouth, Christ that damn, intoxicating mouth, was open enough for him to glimpse her even white teeth.
And that tongue.
The one that had starred in so many of his porn star fantasies.
Bobbi ran her tongue, along her bottom lip and took one more step toward him, hands loose at her side as a smile tugged the corners of her mouth.
Shane’s heart thudded—hard—and he exhaled. She was trying to kill him, because dammit if his eyes weren’t on level with the sweet, enticing V between her legs.
Don’t look, man. Be strong.
His eyes remained fixed to hers, though sweat now beaded along his forehead and his top lip. It could have been because he was sitting in water that was 102 degrees but he highly doubted it.
He was on fire for one reason only and it was standing inches from him.
She took two more steps up until she towered over him, forcing his neck back, and then placed one foot onto the edge of the tub. With a wicked grin that would tempt a goddamn monk to distraction, she looked down and whispered.
“Don’t you know?”
She angled her foot, moving her knee slightly, opening up her hips and the crevice there at her junction. He couldn’t help himself. Slowly his gaze lowered from her face, down past her breasts and the soft dip of her stomach. Lower still he went, until he stopped. Until his eyes feasted on her pink, shiny folds and her swollen clitoris that peeked through.
Shane clenched his jaw together so tightly it was painful and he stifled the groan at the back of his throat. She was wet. So goddamn wet.
So wet for him.
He could smell her, and that male part of him, that caveman fucking Tarzan part of him erupted, and it took everything he had not to grab her hips and pull her down. He wanted to lick her in
to a frenzy. Watch her come. Watch her writhe beneath him and take him deep. He wanted all of that.
And yet, he wanted more.
“I thought,” he began hoarsely but then her fingers were on his mouth and he was silenced.
I thought we weren’t gonna do this.
“Don’t think, Shane.” Bobbi slid into the tub beside him. She grabbed the beer out of his hand and took a long, slow, drink.
