Total pages in book: 144
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 737(@200wpm)___ 590(@250wpm)___ 491(@300wpm)
I know I’ve gone too far before the words are out.
Before he gives me a dark look and pulls back, dropping my phone onto my lap.
“It’s not the world I’m angry at,” he says abruptly, turning his back as he stands. “Stretch yourself out and let’s set up camp.”
9
A Little Dangerous (Shepherd)
I’m a certified fucking rock brain.
I kissed her.
Or she kissed me.
Or something.
It doesn’t matter either way, because it was a terrible mistake and it can never happen again.
For now, I’ll do my damnedest to pretend it never did. Even though I can still feel every curve of her legs under my fingers.
Another mistake.
They just keep tallying the fuck up, don’t they?
Yes, I know she was capable of massaging her own legs.
Everyone knows that massages are intimate and often lead to sex.
So, what business did I have touching her?
What the hell was I thinking?
I stride away like she’s radioactive, taking deep breaths of cool ocean air until I’m calm again, pacing around to soothe my own burning muscles.
I haven’t done a long haul kayak route like that in months, and I’m stiffer than I should be.
My hamstrings twitch as I bend over and catch a glimpse of Destiny doing the same stretch, bowing her legs out like a dancer.
Zip up your damned wet suit, woman. That’s too much sideboob for any man to handle.
Frankly, I’m astonished my heart hasn’t exploded yet, let alone my head.
Because when she unzipped right in front of me, I thought I was about to have a cardiac event.
Wouldn’t that be a nice surprise for Hannah to deal with? My dumb, dead ass coming home in a body bag and a scandal-ridden company in chaos.
When all the blood in my body rushed south, it’s easy to mistake it for a heart attack.
My semi became a full raging hard-on, and I was boiling with so much sexual frustration I could hardly string two sentences together.
She bends over further, revealing a full view of her ass, still clad in her too tight wet suit.
Goddamn, it’s finer than a Georgia peach.
Forbidden fruit incarnate, made to lure me to sin.
I force my eyes to the front. Away from Destiny and her perfect ass and any rabbiting thoughts about seeing her naked.
Nope. Nah. Never.
I just need to get my body on board with my brain.
I stalk away from her, taking a few more paces toward the shore so there’s no chance she sees what she’s done to me.
Specifically, the evidence that I liked what she’s doing more than I could ever deny.
There’s no damn room in this wet suit. My erection presses uncomfortably against the material.
Breathe.
Hold it.
Change positions.
Then she moans a little, the same way she did when I first started massaging her. I practically lose it there and then.
Mind over blue balls.
Head over hormones.
Discipline over arousal.
Exercise does that, regrettably, releasing torrents of raging endorphins.
Probably why I lost my wits and kissed her. Or she kissed me. Or what the fuck ever.
It’s definitely why I was so keyed up when I touched her, why she opened her legs for me, and—
Fuck.
Stop thinking about touching her, numbskull.
Yeah, easier said than done.
Shifting, I push my hands against the ground to straighten the tired muscles of my lower back.
I rivet my eyes to the beach as long as I can until I hear Destiny moving.
A quick glance in her direction tells me she’s still following the same stretching regimen. And the fact that she’s shed her wet suit, exposing the red bikini underneath.
The little outfit does an excellent job of covering very little yet still leaving plenty to the imagination.
Shit, shit.
The woman is a walking fantasy.
A wet dream come to life.
And now she’s inhabiting this beach with me overnight. I won’t escape her until tomorrow evening at the earliest.
Fine.
I’m used to self-discipline, even if this is a bigger test than I’m used to.
I keep my eyes straight ahead for the rest of our post-kayak stretch out, and when I’m done, I nod in her direction without looking at her.
“You should get changed before nightfall. It gets chilly faster than you’d think.”
Without a word, she nods and disappears into the woods.
I take the opportunity to change into military-style cargo pants and a t-shirt and then get started on setting up camp.
We’ll need a fire pit first.
Summer air alone won’t do enough to dampen the nighttime chill this close to the water.
Before I can finish digging, Destiny returns, wearing nothing but a formfitting long-sleeved shirt, jean shorts molded to her legs, and sneakers with no socks.
Of course, she still looks like a dream.
One look leaves me fucking delirious.
Her hair hangs down around her face in soft ribbons. I immediately notice she’s either forgotten a bra or not bothered with one at all.
Why the hell not?
Just past sundown, there’s already a bite to the air, and it perks her nipples under her shirt.