Her heart, obviously into the whole “slamming” notion, decided to join in and slam into her throat. She let out a ragged, strangled breath, every nerve-ending in her body thrumming with charged tension. They were here. Shit, they were here. She jolted to her feet, dragging her fingers through her hair. And then plonked down onto the charred work stool again, gnawing on her thumbnail. She had no idea how to proceed with the next…the next…. Hell, how long were they going to be here? How long did it take to decide whether a fire was an act of arson? An hour? A day? A day. Jesus, how would she survive a day in Damon and Will’s collective presence? The pit of her belly fluttered, or was it the junction of her thighs? She couldn’t tell. She was so freaking flustered she didn’t know what part of her body was reacting to the men’s arrival. Yes, you do, Pheebs. You’re just trying to pretend you don’t. You’re turned-on. Already. Just the thought of being in the same room as Will and Damon, of seeing their towering, hard bodies, of hearing their deep voices, smelling their subtle aftershaves, is making your sex throb and pulse like a— She ground her teeth.
