![]() ![]() 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. “He’s right behind you,” Bo whispered against Sunday’s lips before resuming his assault on her mouth. ![]() ![]() “Your dad?” She tried to whisper around his lips that were still on hers. Sunday wondered if his father had walked past yet. She couldn’t believe that she was acting so scandalous, so unprofessional, so Adeline.īo didn’t break their connection as he opened one eye to stare at her. The breeze whipped through her hair, the branches of the shrub poked into her skin, but nothing was going to make her pull away. As swiftly as he had reacted and pulled her into him, he lowered his mouth to hers. 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. “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. ![]()
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