Page 92 of Sinful Temptations

He spun to me, and the intensity in his honey pools had me dreading what he was about to say. “Oh, so stable boy couldn’t perform.”

“What? Of course he could.”

“But you just said?—”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Okay then.” He folded his hands over his chest. “I’m listening.”

Damn it, I totally walked into that trap.

I huffed. “If you must know, I used my hand.”

He scrunched up his face. “Is that all?”

“Well, no.”Shit. Why can’t I shut my mouth?

“Okay. And?”

Oh, God.“He. . . you know, with his hand.” I closed my eyes and pointed at my groin.

Roman burst out laughing. I snapped my eyes open just in time to see his arm wrap around my shoulder and his lips plant on my forehead. “Go, Daisy.”

I tugged my lip into my mouth and playfully slapped his chest. “You’re such a bastard. You know that don’t you?”

He chuckled. “I know. But I’m just looking out for you. Gotta make sure these men do the right thing by you.”

I nudged my hip to his and my insides did a little jig. “Thank you.”

His eyes met mine, and I couldn’t quite discern his expression. “What for?”

“For being my wingman.”

His unreadable expression deepened, and I glimpsed atouch of sadness rolling into his eyes. “The pay’s appalling, but someone’s gotta look out for you.”

“Ha. Ha.” I slapped him again.

“Speaking of dirty jobs, you want to do something about that apple juice?” He said it with a dubious lilt.

“It is! Here, smell it.” I tugged my shirt toward him.

“Oh, hell no.” He jumped back like I’d asked him to sniff vomit.

I lunged after him. “Come on. Have a sniff.”

He backed away, holding up his hands. “Get away from me, you crazy woman.” His spectacular smile dazzled through his three-day growth.

But I didn’t get away. Instead, I raced toward him. Roman took off, and I chased after him. He jogged around the bus and giggling like a silly schoolgirl, I tried to hold the shirt forward as I dashed after him. “Come on. Smell it.” My bouncing boobs threatened to pop right out of my bra again, and I made a mental note to add sprinting as another sport I shouldn’t do.

We made it twice around the coach before I gave up. I paused at the back, hands on my knees, half laughing, half gasping for air. It’d been way too long since I’d done any physical exercise—except sex of course.

I lost sight of Roman as he sprinted around again.

A couple of thumping heartbeats later, his feet crunched on the gravel as he sidled up to me. Still laughing, he placed his hand on my back. “You okay?”

The warmth of his touch had my insides glowing. “Nope,” I finally said between breaths. “You think I’m lying.” I dragged my body upright and pulled an Oscar-worthy sad face.

“Oh, come here.” He wrapped his arm over my shoulders, pulling me closer. To my surprise, he bent over, put his nose to my bust and sniffed.

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