He’s hungry for all the noises she’s making. “Sorry I’m late.”
The silken curls of her hair flirt with his wrist as she turns to look up at him. Chuckling, he says, “I guess this is good night.”
Megan smiles at him, her fingers trailing down the buttons on his shirt. Isn’t running away from her. “What?” Dean barks. “Sorry I’m late.”
The silken curls of her hair flirt with his wrist as she turns to look up at him. “I’m Megan. His gaze sweeps over the faux wrap style of her dress, flowing upward to the oval pendant resting just above her cleavage. This is actually happening. Their lips meet again. I mean, I wouldn’t want your brother to… “What about her?” Sam asks. “See?” she asks him. He slips his hands into his pockets, his shoulders sliding up non-threateningly. Frantic to break her and feel her shatter in his arms. “Hey, sweetheart,” he says softly. Sam, desperate for the haven Megan offers, yanking her underwear down the moment she pushes up, allowing him to do so.
