Copyright © PARIS BRANDON, 2012

All Rights Reserved, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.

Tall stood on the back porch. Water still beaded his bronze chest as if he’d just hopped out of the shower and his hair stood up in dark, wet spikes. He hadn’t even taken the time to zip his faded jeans. Or put on underwear. She could see a dark line of pubic hair peeking from the opening.

He padded barefoot across the dry grass and grinned when he caught her checking out his package.

“Well, Happy Birthday to you,” she crooned.

He slipped her bag out of her hand and dropped it. It made a soft thud when it hit the ground and in the next instant Tall had enveloped her in a fierce hug.

His lips slid across hers and she could feel the smile that was always present at their first greeting no matter how long they’d been apart. His welcome kiss turned hot and demanding and his big hands settled on her ass and made one possessive sweep before cupping her butt.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered and bunched the crinkly turquoise cotton in his grip. He slid her skirt up an inch at a time and went back to kissing her. A rough, calloused finger delicately scraped over her bare hip and he broke the kiss and grinned. “Let’s see what you brought me.”

Sunshine and a soft breeze warmed her bare flesh as he peeked over her shoulder and whistled softly. “Have I ever told you what a beautiful ass you have?”

“Several times,” she chuckled.

“Well, why don’t you step inside and let me tell you again. Properly.” He let go of her and bent to retrieve her bag. She slipped her arm into his but it didn’t seem to be enough contact for him. And after so many weeks apart, it wasn’t enough for her either.

He leaned over and kissed her again and they fumbled their way into the house after she juggled the door open with her free hand.

The house was cool and every sense was engaged as she picked up the fresh green of the salad he’d been making, the bite of citrus from a bowl of lemons on the counter next to it. Food was the last thing on her mind as he led her to the little Navajo-print chaise lounge in front of the stacked stone fireplace they only used when the evenings were chilly.

A sliver of sunshine fell across them as Tall lowered her onto the chaise. Kitty scooted to the edge and placed her booted heels on either side of Tall’s knees as he knelt in front of her and spanned her waist with his hands.

“Merry is going to be late. I think we should start without her,” he rasped and strafed his tongue across the wispy, barely there yellow fabric that covered her breasts.