She’d buried her womanly parts as many layers deep as she could. She wasn’t going to have sex with him. But man, he looked good. In jeans that hugged his thighs and perfectly showcased his delectable backside, a button-down white shirt with the cuffs rolled up and sandals, he was health and virility personified. She was not going to have sex with him. “Hello,” he greeted, taking her arms to pull her forward—not until their bodies touched. But until their lips did. Then their bodies touched. Met. Stuck. And they pretty much had sex. While Talia stood there fully dressed. * * * SLOW DOWN. THE words came from the back of beyond to speak to Sherman. Words. They were just words. Ones he’d vowed, on his way over to Talia’s, that he’d listen to. They could have sex. And he was completely convinced it was going to be pretty damned miraculous when it happened. But he didn’t just want a sexual partner.
