Book Two: The Barker Triplets
He could smell her, and that male part of him, that caveman fucking Tarzan part of him erupted, and it took everything he had not to grab her hips and pull her down. He wanted to lick her into a frenzy. Watch her come. Watch her writhe beneath him and take him deep. He wanted all of that.
And yet, he wanted more.
“I thought,” he began hoarsely but then her fingers were on his mouth and he was silenced.
I thought we weren’t gonna do this.
“Don’t think, Shane.” Bobbi slid into the tub beside him. She grabbed the beer out of his hand and took a long, slow, drink.
He watched her throat move–slowly, seductively–as she drank. And of course his thoughts went south. They went way south and it sure as hell wasn’t a bottle he envisioned those luscious lips wrapped around.
She set the bottle on the ledge and moved closer, the steam from the hot tub forming a cloud of mist around them but Shane inched away, suddenly unsure and even though his dick was as hard as a rock, he needed to–
Bobbi frowned. “You’re thinking.”
“No shit,” he muttered, putting another few inches between them.
“I told you I didn’t want you to think.”