raw exposure
“My bag,” she commanded, her hand out between them, no forgiveness on her face.
Placing it in her hand, he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers before she could move away. “I like your fire, Affrica O’Shea. I don’t have any diseases. And I love how your lips feel under mine. We’ll have to do that again, just a bit longer and with much more exploration.”
Reeve walked away before he forgot he was at his brother’s business and took Ms. O’Shea up against the side of her vehicle. He was wound so tight it was amazing he didn’t burst out of his slacks.
He never looked back, knowing if he saw her again, he would forget who her brother was and do his damnedest to get her in his bed.
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