Page 118 of Property of Bob

The kiss deepened.

Her lips parted beneath mine, and the careful distance we’d kept between us disappeared.

I shifted closer, ignoring the pull of tired muscles as Ramona rolled fully toward me. Her hand moved from my chest to my shoulder, then into my hair.

Fuck. I hadn’t expected this.

Or maybe I had. Maybe I’d been expecting it from the second I’d opened my eyes and realized she was still in my arms.

Ramona kissed me like she’d stopped thinking about whether she should. I understood that feeling.

My hand slid from her hair down her back and settled at her waist, pulling her closer.

She came willingly.

Her leg moved between mine as the kiss turned hotter, and every thought in my head disappeared except Ramona.

Her mouth. Her body against mine. Her fingers sliding through my hair.

I kissed her harder.

Ramona answered with the same energy, and I forgot that I was supposed to be recovering from anything.

Until my throat reminded me.

A sharp ache pulled through it when I shifted wrong.

I broke the kiss and sucked in a breath.

Ramona immediately went still. “Shit.” Her hand moved from my hair toward my neck but stopped before touching the scar. “Did I hurt you?”

“No.”

“Bob.”

“You didn’t.”

Her eyes searched mine.

“My throat,” I admitted. “Moved wrong.”

She started pulling away, but I tightened my hand at her waist. “Where are you going?”

“You just said your throat hurts.”

“Didn’t say I wanted you to leave.”

“You need to rest.”

“I was resting.”

“You were kissing me.”

“Felt pretty fucking relaxing.”

Ramona stared at me, then she laughed. That soft laugh I’d already decided I liked way too much. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Come here.”