Book By
Author
Tamara Morgan
On Sale Now!!!
Excerpt
Amy scooted out from underneath Ryan and got to shaky
legs. Giving in to the indulgence of a backward glance to find him staring
open mouthed at her, she lifted her shirt off and tossed it to the hallway
floor.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice gruff.
She kept moving, an extra sway in her hips as she
unbuttoned her shorts and shimmied them off her hips. “Leaving you a trail of
bread crumbs in case you get lost along the way.”
“Amy…”
She reached behind her and flicked open her
serviceable white cotton bra. The only way to dress up that kind of bland plant
material was to dangle it enticingly from one fingertip, which she did as she
reached her door. It wasn’t locked—unless someone wanted to steal her ancient
ten-pound laptop or her collection of Old World maps, there wasn’t much to
take—so she pushed it open and slipped in.
One. Two. Three. Four. She flicked on the lights,
assuming Ryan was right behind her. Five. Six. Seven. Was he seriously not
going to follow her in here? Eight. Nine. Nine and a half.
She slipped out of her panties—more of the same
boring white cotton, though at least they had bits of scalloped lace at the
edges—and tossed them out the open door.
Nine and two-thirds. Nine and three-quarters. What
the heck came after that?
“Goddammit.” Ryan stormed through the door and tossed
all her clothes onto the floor. “Are you trying to kill me?”
He stopped, suspended in a swirl of desire that hit
him from all sides, holding him momentarily aloft. In his haste to somehow find
the ability to both walk and gather up Amy’s clothes, he’d forgotten that he
held all her underclothes. Nothing stood between him and her completely
naked body except distance and air—both of which mattered for absolutely zero.
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