Her tiny breasts would fit twice in his palm and his fingers would nearly touch if he circled her waist with his hands. She made him feel gigantic, manly, protective. And nearly crazed with lust. Her hips flared only slightly from her waist and her legs were slender. She was short, but her legs seemed to go on forever. At the apex of her thighs was the prettiest thatch of blond hair, trimmed into a perfect V. Otherwise she was perfectly smooth. “You wa…” Mac coughed and tried again. “You waxed.” “Hurt too. For all that trouble you could be a bit more accommodating,” she said with a little pout. He wanted to kiss it better. With everything in him, he wanted to lick across the now-smooth skin and appreciate her work. “You wouldn’t have to,” he said, his tongue feeling twice its usual size. “You’re gorgeous.” All the blood rushed from his head as she shifted her thighs apart. “You mean it?” Sara lay on the top of the white linen comforter, her hair hanging free, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted.
