Series: Iron Ladies #2
“I really enjoyed our dinner. Thank you for going with me.” Bo paused. “Crap, that’s my dad’s voice, come on.” He wrapped Sunday’s hand in his and pulled her forward just as his father and the group of men he was with rounded the corner, Bo sank deeper into the bushes, pulling Sunday against him. She glanced up; they were so close, she could feel his warm breath on her face, smell the toasted sugar from the Crème Brûlée they had shared. As swiftly as he had reacted and pulled her into him, he lowered his mouth to hers.
The breeze whipped through her hair, the branches of the shrub poked into her skin, but nothing was going to make her pull away. She couldn’t believe that she was acting so scandalous, so unprofessional, so Adeline.
That lost thought made her smile.
Bo didn’t break their connection as he opened one eye to stare at her. Sunday wondered if his father had walked past yet.
“Your dad?” She tried to whisper around his lips that were still on hers.
“He’s right behind you,” Bo whispered against Sunday’s lips before resuming his assault on her mouth.
Sunday used these last few seconds, however long she had to examine him, feel him, how firm were his muscles, his chest? She ran one hand along the placket of his shirt, her fingers lightly slipping between the buttons to touch his undershirt. She had been expecting warm skin. The disappointment was like picking up a glass and expecting to drink soda, but after you swallowed, discovering it was plain ole water. It was startling enough to pull Sunday back to her senses. She looked up and realized that Kai was long gone. Her cheeks turned a rosy pink. Bo noticeably stiffened. He must have been bracing himself for her rising anger. But she refused to give it to him–she had wanted that kiss just as much. Instead, she let out a huff and marched off, no shouts, no witty comebacks, nothing.
“Come on, Sunday, please. You can’t tell me you didn’t like it. It was wonderful. Admit it. I mean . . . I liked it. I wanted to kiss you. I’ve been wanting to kiss you.”
He stood under the scorching hot water flow over his body. Maybe it would wake him up and make him realize that sharing a room with Sunday Prescott was a big mistake. The woman had no clue that her innocence was a turn on, making her a bit beguiling. He was allowing the lower half to think for the upper half. But he needed to relieve this pressure, this ache he had for that infuriating woman.
Thoughts of her fiery temper and her bright smile filled his mind as he slid his hand down his growing penis. Squeezing the base, he released a guttural moan. The water sloshing over him aided him as he stroked from the shaft upward, his thumb capturing at the underside of the head.
Her laughter. He stroked slowly and steadily and then quickened.
Her damn scent. He stroked faster as the release built inside him. The way her lips felt on his. The storm that had brewed inside him thundered out with each thrust of his hips into the air, no warm woman, no Sunday.