20
Tim felt he could stay here all day, right…here. Holding this warm woman up against the side of the Black Hawk. Breathing in that spicy, unique scent that was Lola LaRue. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t sure he had any choice about actually spending the day.
Partly it was their position. Her head resting on his shoulder, an arm thrown around his neck, one of her legs wrapped around his hips still holding him tight against her.
Also partly, if he moved, he was afraid they’d both slide to the ground in a puddle of damn-pleased-with-themselves.
He’d never seen a lady who could simply let go like that. Women always held onto a chunk of self-awareness, or had an agenda, or he didn’t know what. Or they offered nothing back, expecting the man to give all so that the woman could simply lose
