Private Pleasure (Sun Stroked Book 3) Read Free Page A

to her that she’d stopped breathing, she sucked in a tight breath, filling her oxygen-starved lungs with the moisture-laden air.
    Taking full advantage of their up-close-and-personal stance, she let her gaze sweep over him for a long inspection of his fine body, firm, square jaw, sun-kissed hair and dark, intense eyes. She took in his watchful gaze, noting his body’s primal reactions to her presence. There was a restless energy about him that swirled around them. It raced over her flesh and exploded on her senses.
    His face might have remained expressionless, icy even, but his eyes bore into hers with a gaze so intense and probing, it was all Abby could do to keep herself upright. Ripples of sensual pleasure started at her core and traveled onward and outward.
    Her entire body trembled. Almost violently.
    Aware of the way he was affecting her libido, and needing to gain control over her hormones, she stepped back and reclaimed her personal space.
    Lord, it was one thing to fantasize about the hero in her spicy novel, but to fantasize about this hot, enigmatic man while he stood before her, in the flesh, was another thing entirely. She berated her wayward thoughts and focused her attention.
    “I’m Abby Benton,” she said, holding her hand out in greeting in case he didn’t remember her.
    After he glanced at her outstretched hand, guarded eyes met hers. “I remember.” Like any well-disciplined soldier, he closed his hand over hers for a firm shake, and she wondered whether he even knew he was idly stroking the soft pad of his thumb over her wrist.
    Sensing she was encroaching upon his solitude, she glanced past his shoulder to the sandy beach below. She tried for casual. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Her voice sounded tight, even to herself.
    He grunted something incoherent and took a distancing step back. Hard, corded muscles shifted as his arm’s fell to his sides. It was all she could do not to stare.
    Curious to know what he’d been looking at, what he’d been watching , she angled her chin and focused on his scope.
    “What are you doing up here?” she asked him.
    “Bird watching.”
    Even though his words said one thing, the dark look in his eyes suggested otherwise. She shot him a dubious glance. “Bird watching, huh?”
    “Yeah.” He widened his stance, folded his arms and arched a challenging brow. “Bird watching.”
    Her glance raced over his fatigues. “You don’t seem like the bird-watching type to me,” she said. Her words implied that he was some kind of Peeping Tom.
    His mouth lifted in a mocking half smile. His expression was coy but sexy. “As opposed to all your other bird-watching friends?”
    Okay, he had her there. She wanted to test him, to see whether he’d been peeking in anyone’s window or invading anyone’s privacy, so she asked, “Have you spotted anything unusual? Anything rare? Anything that piqued your interest?” She stretched out that one word, hoping he’d catch her double meaning.
    A quick grin momentarily softened his warrior features, and she suspected he knew full well what she was referring to.
    “Just a few red-throated lorikeets and a couple of fruit doves,” he responded.
    She arched a brow, impressed. “Oh, so you do know your birds. Mind if I have a look?” She caught his hesitation, sensing a desire for solitude. “I’ll just take a quick look and then be on my way.”
    He reluctantly conceded. “Fine.”
    Seeking shade under a palm tree, Abby sat on the ground, dropped her beach bag beside her, and crossed her legs, tucking them under her thighs. Crispy, sun-burnt grass and twigs crunched beneath her. Cody moved with stealth and precision in beside her and helped her position his scope.
    “Like this,” he said. His warm breath fanned her face and fragmented her thoughts.
    His close proximity made her feel weird and jittery, and it took all her effort not to moan in frank appreciation when his rich, manly scent closed around