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“This is your sister’s house. My boss’s house. And you’re a client of mine. What the hell am I doing?”
Sweat beaded on his brow, and his arousal was apparent beneath his jeans. Again, she wondered what he looked like in all his glory. And how his glory would feel inside her wet heat that still throbbed.
He grabbed the bandana off his head and wiped his forehead. He penetrated her with his gaze. “What was I thinking? I don’t even…”
“Even what?” Angie asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing. I got work to d
o.” He turned and walked around the side of the house, disappearing from her view.
Angie sat, her breasts still bare, her sex still aching. She flung her bikini top onto the deck, stood, and walked to the side of the pool.
She dived in.
Nope, still didn’t cool her off.
* * *
“I need some sex.”
Amber and Catie both shot liquid out of their mouths, Amber a pink cosmo and Catie a virgin pina colada. Happy hour at the Bullfrog on a Thursday night. Angie had dragged Catie out and they’d picked up Amber on the way. After fifteen minutes of small talk and one martini, Angie let loose with her bomb.
“Don’t we all.” Amber turned to Catie. “Not all of us are lucky enough to have a McCray warming our bed at night.”
“I could have had a McCray—” Nope, she couldn’t have. Zach McCray had never loved her. Their engagement had been finagled by their two mothers, best friends who wanted to see their ranches combined. Laurie McCray had passed on over a year ago. Angie’s mother still missed her.
How had she gone this long without a relationship? Without male companionship? She’d dated, but none of them had lived up to her expectations. Always something from her list crept up.
Ever since the Zach debacle, she’d wanted more—a real connection—so she’d made a list of characteristics for her ideal man. Catie made no secret of her feelings that her sister was being ridiculous, and gave her crap about “Angie’s list” on a regular basis.
Angie had thought Zach possessed it all. Intelligence—he was a Harvard man. Movie star good looks—one brown eye and one blue eye might make a normal person look odd, but heterochromia worked on him. A boatload of money—the McCrays owned the biggest beef ranch in Colorado. What he hadn’t given her was love and devotion. Problem was, because of her list of standards, no one had lived up to Zach McCray since, so Angie never kept anyone around long enough to see if love was even possible.
But what was wrong with having standards? She perused her list in her mind.
1. Financially affluent
2. Intelligent, with an IQ in the superior range at least, preferably genius range
3. No past marriages
4. Ambition
5. Wants children
6. Adores me
7. Good-looking with a great body
8. No fear of commitment
Only eight items and she’d kept the looks down at number seven. That had to prove she wasn’t completely shallow. Seriously, what was wrong with wanting the best?
Angie didn’t want to settle. Her mother had settled. Wayne had married Maria after she’d gotten pregnant with Angie. Their marriage had sustained itself and they produced two more children. They owned two ranches. But Maria had freely admitted to both her daughters that they’d never been in love. They liked each other. Respected each other. Worked well as partners.
But no spark.
Angie wanted spark.
