Say You'll Be There: A Second Chance Romance (Love In Seven Mile Forge Book 2) by Billie Dale

Author:Billie Dale [Dale, Billie & Dale, Billie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-09-30T18:30:00+00:00

Twenty-Eight

Joey

She dumped me in a sand trap. I hated making the boyish man who showed me my accommodation cry, but this is not cool. Air-conditioning, ESPN, plush bathrobes, room service. For fuck’s sake, I’d bow down for indoor plumbing at this point. She did this on purpose and I will pay her back, the little minx.

I discovered the sand eater and climate-controlled bedroom, but no way am I sleeping in this with my son. While Cash would love to build castles in the middle of the sitting room, I’m on vacation and deserve some diva pampering.

Here…*hands over man-card* …I don’t deserve it after that last statement.

Wanting reaffirming manliness, I follow the path prepared to punch whoever I need until they relent her room number, but it won’t be necessary because I hear her. Freaked, muffled words carry on the stagnant oppressive breeze. Jesus, why did Sam and Mazric pick the surface of the sun for their destination? How do people live in this shit? My balls stick to my legs and before I switched to flip-flops, half the beach was in my boots. Did I mention wearing open toed footwear requires me to relinquish my nuts? No self-respecting man should ever wear something called a thong whether it refers to shoes or underwear. One splits your nuts and the other your toes. Same difference.

I kept my jeans on because I don’t own a pair of shorts and the friction burns the hair off my legs. No joke, the temperature of hell must be cooler than this damn island.

A few steps from her tent I hear her negotiating with Thing One and Two over the sleeping arrangements. She’s rambling about being between them in only the way a nervous Preslee can. For a split second I see her with them and the picture flips my blinding rage switch. I don’t think they’d cross any boundaries, but the greedy jealous gremlin inside says it’s not happening. When she slips out to shower, I step inside and send them down the beach to my cabana.

Lucky for them they don’t argue. Miguel promises to drown me if anything happens to her, but they hightail it out of there before she returns.

If her drool were a flammable substance, the slightest spark would raze this place to the ground. I like how she looks at me. Dressed in her tiny shorts and tank with her nipples screaming look at me. I’m dead. Dig the hole. Cover me in soil. This is the way I perish. Hard and infuriated. I’m glad it’s me she’ll be sharing a bed with.

Torturing her with my choice of television starts out innocent enough, a little playful keep-away. When she collapses on top of me and her tight hard nubs tease my chest, I struggle to fight my erection. Then she flinches the delicious piece of tail in my hand and all control fails. In the confined space her peppermint scent blankets me. Her devilish eyes flick up and I squint mine shut, holding my breath while picturing fat men in Speedos dancing the conga.

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