Shadow of a Honeybun (Honeybun Fever #1)
(By Sam Cheever)
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| Author | Sam Cheever |
“Do I need to define the word stay?”
“I am not staying there in the dark all by myself. What if the guy who shot the gun is still in here?”
The hunk with the gun and flashlight expelled a breath, it smelled of mint and testosterone. A quiver of desire tightened low in her belly. The shoulder under her fingers was rock hard and impressively broad.
“You’re probably safer back there than you are with me. But if you insist, I’d advise that you stay behind me, in case the shooter starts firing again.
Taking him at his word, Blaise took a step sideways so that his body covered hers. From her position directly behind him, she couldn’t help noticing the bright curls escaping from beneath the black skull cap he wore over his hair. His neck was thick with muscle and the shoulder blades under the black t-shirt flexed as he walked.
Her hungry gaze slid downward to a pair of fine, well-rounded buns. He was probably six foot five, at least a few inches taller than she was, and looked like he weighed a solid two fifty.
All muscle.
Yummy.
She was so busy checking out his fine attributes that she forgot for a moment what they were doing. When he swore softly and reached around to place a big, warm hand on her hip, stopping her, she shivered with unrestrained lust and pressed herself against him.
Dolfe sucked in a breath as her long, perfectly-padded body pressed against his. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head under a wave of lust. Her scent rolled over him, warm and sweet and loin-clenching, despite the foul stench of their surroundings.
But the body lying on the floor just ten feet in front of them put a definite crimp in the lustful thoughts his mind wanted to indulge in. He patted her hip. “Stay here.” He didn’t wait to see if she listened, but wasn’t surprised, as he leaned over the body to check for a pulse, to find her sweet smelling hair tickling his cheek from over his shoulder.
“Is he dead?”
Dolfe tugged the man’s suit coat to the side and found the bleeding hole created from a bullet at close range. It had gone right into his heart. “Stay. The word means remain in one place…do not move…abstain from traveling.”
She reached a finger toward the hole. He grabbed it before she could touch the body. “Is that a bullet hole?”
Dolfe turned his head. “Are you on medication?””
