Wave after wave swept through her.
Holy heck! This was… crazy.
And then, breathing hard, she realized she was leaning heavily against the edge of the window.
What if the glass had broken? Shattered, causing her to tumble to the ground below?
Guilt seeped in slowly. Was she really this deprived? This depraved? She’d acted like some sort of a nymphomaniac!
A boneless, exhausted nymphomaniac.
She dropped to her knees on the towel and peered across to the other window again.
Chaz was bent over, resting his good arm along his raised knee.
Penny watched him, just a second more, and then allowed the curtain to fall back into place.
Chaz smiled tohimself as he watched the blinds and drapes drop back into place, covering her window once again.
The angle of the mirror provided him a perfect view of her.
Absolutely perfect.
He’d just been about to lie down when he’d caught her peering through the blind again. She’d looked all dewy, obviously fresh from a shower. Her hair was wet, falling in glistening spirals over bare shoulders, and her feminine curves were barely covered by a miniscule towel.
He couldn’t help himself.
And holy hell but apparently neither could she.
He’d been right. Miss Penny the Divorcee most definitely needed to get laid.
Even with the painkillers he’d taken lately, he’d had no problem jacking off. Not with her standing there– watching him, moving with him, touching herself. The more she’d gotten into it, the more of the blinds she’d inadvertently pushed aside. After a few minutes, he could see from the tops of her knees to the top of her head.
When that towel had dropped, it had revealed skin that was creamy and pink, and oh, so wonderfully woman.
Such a fucking turn-on!
Chaz hadn’t known where to look. He loved watching the expressions cross her face but he couldn’t help but focus on her hand reaching between her legs. He could imagine her thumb swirling around her clit and her fingers reaching higher inside of that wet velvety comfort he wanted to plunge into.
And when she’d reached up and touched her breast, he’d lost it. Gone right over the edge.
His climax had shaken him in its intensity.
He cleaned himself and climbed into bed. With his sexual energy spent, the pain throbbing in his shoulder demanded his attention again.
This time, though, when he closed his eyes, he didn’t see flashes of flames and dust and smoke and body parts flying through the air with metal artillery.
He didn’t dwell on the fact that he’d possibly never climb into the cockpit of a fighter jet again.
And he didn’t find himself fighting the desire to take another painkiller to make it all just go away.
No, he pictured a woman with curly blond hair and eyes that flickered green one second and brown the next.
Feeling relaxed and sated, a few of his demons fled.
No problem falling asleep this time. No problem at all.
CHAPTER FOUR
