CHAPTER 8 | Beau
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Holly looks up at me through lowered lashes and it makes my mouth go hot. She wants me. I’ve been stupid about a lot of things in my life, but I’m not imagining this. Ideas about all the ways I’m going to take her whirl through my mind, landing on this: Holly spreading her legs for me. Holly arching her back.
Holly, who has relentlessly ridden my ass for two months, under me.
Screaming my name.
“Stop grinning like that,” she says, voice wavering.
I don’t. I can’t. I actually grin wider—and lean closer. “Why? You seem to like it.”
She brushes past me, but not before I see her swallow. It hits me low and I take a moment to watch that gorgeous ass of hers as she climbs my porch steps and lets herself inside.
“Nice,” she says, surveying my living room with her
