Welcome! We're continuing with Bullhorn Brodsky's book this week. The word prompt "flavor" fits perfectly into the story. This book will be released within the next two weeks.
He put his turn signal on and backed up, getting ready to make a u-turn when she put her hand on his arm.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
“Do you want to be with me or not?” His eyes were hard. “Because I’m done fooling around with this bullshit.”
“Do you want to be with me?” A deep breath didn’t keep her voice from shaking.
“Of course. I thought I made that damn clear. How many different ways do I have to say it, show it?” He put the car in park.
“I’m sorry, so sorry, Sly. I never meant to. I mean, I don’t want you to think I don't want you. I do.” Words failed her. She leaned over, placed her hand behind his head and guided his mouth to hers. Bull leaned in. She pressed her lips to his, holding him to her. She slipped her tongue in. As soon as they touched, he jumped to life, pulling her closer. He took over, hugging her chest to his, ravaging her mouth.
Desire flew through her veins. Her body heated as his fingers combed through her hair. She wound her arms around his neck as best she could with the gearshift in the way. His hand slid up her ribcage to cover her breast. Samantha’s breathing increased and she tightened her grip. Need rose in her, erasing all thought, leaving only the feel, flavor and scent of Sly Brodsky. He pulled back and dropped his hand.
“I guess you do,” he croaked out, his voice dry, his gaze warm.
Color seeped into her cheeks. Losing control with a man in the front seat of a car wasn’t her style.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to take advantage, but I needed to know.”
“How much you want to be with me or if it was just lip service.”
“And now you know, what, exactly?”
“Our physical connection is mutual.”