Melinda had disappeared without saying goodbye, and he’d never had a chance to get her number. Fortunately, her business number was easy to locate. He sat, lost in thought at his desk, picturing her at the breakfast as she stumbled through her apology for unzipping his pants. He’d loved that she did that. He remembered the unexpected surprise, the delicious shock as her warm little hand had slipped inside the fly of his boxers and taken him in a firm grip. Had stroked him until he thought he’d blow right there on the beach. And she’d felt the need to apologize? She’d felt the need to tell him that she understood that it meant nothing; that it had just been a booty call? Pete frowned. He hadn’t thought beyond the instant attraction he felt for her, beyond the heat of the moment. He’d just acted. And now she was complicating things by stating baldly how uncomplicated they were. Damn it.
