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It was simply amazing how she could make something so simple look so damn . . . sexy. Especially the way her jeans fit around her voluptuous legs, as ...f they were painted on, and like most of her blouses, this one had revealed her milky, plentiful cleavage. "You know, I think I could go for a Sandler movie myself," she nodded approvingly, a slow smile creasing her lips. She was placid, serene, like she usually was on a Saturday, and it bothered the living hell out of me. I couldn't. ” He stopped in confusion. “You’re not Marcy. Where’s Marcy? Goddammit, this was my night to ... who are you?” He looked me up and down, lingering on my prominent pokies and no doubt noticing my disheveled hemline. Busted.I flapped my jaw silently. I knew Jason was fucking away in the bedroom with his lumberjack dick, but he could have been right in front of me. Six-four, square jaw, all of it. I finally found my voice. “Um, hi, I’m Emily. You must be Jonas. My car broke down and Marcy let me. I felt the wind drive from my lungs, only peripherally aware of the nightstick that had been applied to my stomach. I filled my airway once more and let cry a primal roar, fighting as hard as I ever had to drag the lawmen with me to the door. I felt the thoroughly disorienting fire of electricity course through my body as I was hit by their tazer. For the briefest of seconds, the haze surrounding my senses pulled back alerting me once more to Danielle’s softening shrieks of my name. In an. He pushed the door open. It had been slightly ajar which did worry him. Why was there no better security? He creeped into the entrance hallway. It took his breath away. As with the outside, it was intact and stunning. Still boasting the ornate, decadent features of the 18th Century grand staircase he had remembered, the hall was a testament to English architecture and design. The Tennant family portraits still hung on the walls, each portraying the most handsome selection of male and female.
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