CHAPTER 13
Even with the worst case of blue balls he’d ever had, Connor still had to catch his breath after watching Delaney come. Being with her had been like a damn revelation: the way she moved, the feel of her skin, the softness of her curves—curves she was currently covering back up.
She stood and smoothed her skirt down, fighting (ineffectually) against the wrinkles she’d acquired and not meeting his eyes. But even wrinkled, the pale blue dress showed her body to perfection: gathered at the waist and skimming over her graceful hips.
She owned every inch of herself. Only her feet—tanned and bare, toenails painted metallic gold—against the red and white picnic blanket made her look anything close to vulnerable. It was sexy as hell.
She was sexy as hell.
As if she felt his staring,
