Page 20 of A Bear's Mercy

Charlie moved past him and toward the coffee maker, her movements awkward and shuffling but better than he’d hoped for.

He didn’t move. The very last thing he wanted her to see was his erection.

Really? He thought to himself.

Even though she was moving stiffly and wearing a bathrobe, he could just barely see her shape: generous bosom, cushioned hips, narrow waist.

I could be very, very gentle, he thought.

It didn’t help his erection.

At last she was past him, and while her back was turned, he strode to his bedroom as quickly as he could.

He had to get out of the house, away from her, or he might just lose his mind.

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