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Just about to combust from the heat
Maybe the air conditioner was broken.
Caleb shrieked and then smacked the blocks with a chubby hand, sending the foam tower tumbling to the floor. He broke out into a chorus of baby giggles that had Brenna’s ovaries quivering.
Lock raised his arms and cheered like Caleb had scored a Super Bowl touchdown. His shoulders bunched, and the muscles in his abdomen rippled in a way that was impossible to look away from.
How would all those ridges feel against her tongue?
What the hell is wrong with you?
The lack of sex with Oliver had clearly had a detrimental effect on her brain.
The baby laughed so hard at Lock’s cheering that his tiny face turned red, and he toppled over on his side.
“Whoops,” Lock said with a chuckle. “You okay there, little man?” he asked as he helped right Caleb.
“Excuse me,” Brenna managed to say despite her arid tongue. “Gonna grab that beer.”
No word could describe what happened next better than flee. Brenna turned on her heel and practically sprinted to the kitchen, wrenched the refrigerator open, and shoved her entire head inside. As the cool air washed over her, she sighed.
Was there anything more appealing than a sexy man playing with his child?
I think not.
This entire arrangement just became a hundred times more complicated, but not because of Oliver or being stuck with a bunch of bikers.
No, her own neglected libido was to blame for this new mess.
CHAPTER SIX
THE SHRILL CHIME of the doorbell pulled Lock from his and Caleb’s demolition game. The baby’s attention shifted, and he crawled toward the front door.
“Hold up, you little terror.” Lock hopped to his feet, then scooped up his son and settled him on his hip as he went to grab the food delivery. As he walked toward the door, an icy blast from the air conditioner had goosebumps breaking out across his skin. After a particularly nasty post-nap diaper surprise, he’d taken off his shirt while bathing Caleb and hadn’t bothered to re-dress.
He’d planned to toss on a shirt until he saw the blatant interest in Brenna’s gaze. Now, fuck it, he’d give her something to gawk at all evening. It was only fair, considering the sight of her bare legs in that professional yet porn-worthy skirt gave him an instant boner. And that was before he’d gotten a glimpse of her tits in the fitted blouse. Damn, the woman was a stunner.
Had he known his dick would be tested this vigorously, he’d never have suggested letting her stay in his house. The last thing he needed when he was trying to get his head on straight and focus on his son was a sexy-as-fuck distraction.
He adjusted his junk and then opened the door. The delivery driver handed over the food, accepted his tip, and smiled. As Lock shut the door, soft footsteps sounded behind him.
“Can I help you carry anything?” Brenna asked.
Christ, if she stood any closer, he’d feel her breath on his neck.
Behave. He shot a nasty glare at his dick.
“I got the food. Can you grab Caleb from me?” He turned, and his jaw hit the floor.
For fuck’s sake.
Not a chance in hell he’d stay soft now. Wearing business attire, Brenna was sexy, but it had nothing on a casual Brenna dressed in sweat shorts and a skin-tight tank that left a two-inch strip of bare stomach for him to imagine licking. And boy, did he picture it. It wasn’t the only place he thought of sticking his tongue. His imagination had been running wild since he laid eyes on her.
A few weeks ago, he’d have said alcohol and drugs would be his greatest temptation post-rehab.
He’d been dead wrong.
Dead fucking wrong.
