Some Girls Don't (Outback Heat book 2)
“The man she’d given her virginity to could still bring her out in a hot flush.
Another woman may have blamed it on the October sun belting down on her bare shoulders, but not Selena. She owned her hormonal crazy where Jarrod Weston was concerned. After all, the guy had been muddling her senses for as long as she could remember and, it seemed, even at the grand age of thirty-two, he still had the knack.
She took a deep breath. Keep your shit together, Selena. Three days. That was all. Just three... days and she’d be gone again.
You can do this.
He reached for the hammer in his tool belt, his attention riveted to the guttering, or the eave or whatever it was he was fixing on her grandmother’s roof. Her attention was riveted to the width of his shoulders and the slabs of muscle slung between. The span of his ribs, the furrow of his spine and the dimples in his lower back were just as compelling.
She knew the contours of that back intimately. Well, maybe not that back exactly. Jarrod had always had a muscularity befitting his big-boned physique—nice biceps and shoulders—something she’d been able to hold on to as he’d loomed over her in those snatched, secret moments.MoreLess
Another woman may have blamed it on the October sun belting down on her bare shoulders, but not Selena. She owned her hormonal crazy where Jarrod Weston was concerned. After all, the guy had been muddling her senses for as long as she could remember and, it seemed, even at the grand age of thirty-two, he still had the knack.
She took a deep breath. Keep your shit together, Selena. Three days. That was all. Just three... days and she’d be gone again.
You can do this.
He reached for the hammer in his tool belt, his attention riveted to the guttering, or the eave or whatever it was he was fixing on her grandmother’s roof. Her attention was riveted to the width of his shoulders and the slabs of muscle slung between. The span of his ribs, the furrow of his spine and the dimples in his lower back were just as compelling.
She knew the contours of that back intimately. Well, maybe not that back exactly. Jarrod had always had a muscularity befitting his big-boned physique—nice biceps and shoulders—something she’d been able to hold on to as he’d loomed over her in those snatched, secret moments.MoreLess
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