Burned Deep (Burned 1)

“Sure. My dad was always getting invitations to exclusive clubs. He took me most of the time.”

“No wonder you’re so good,” Dane said as we walked toward the green.

“I should be better,” I admitted. “I need to get out more.”

“That shouldn’t be a problem now. I do have five new courses for you to explore.” He winked.

I couldn’t help but think, once again, that perhaps meeting him really had been fated. I wasn’t sure a supermodel would be excited by the prospect of playing award-winning links.

Dane chatted up my dad on the next several holes. Though I could tell my father was a bit suspicious, he couldn’t seem to help but like Dane—that magnetic personality again—laughing heartily at some of his jokes and giving him pointers on his swing.

My good time, however, came to a screeching halt when I dropped in a bunker.

“Fuck me,” I grumbled under my breath.

“I will again,” Dane muttered from behind. “Soon.”

Heat rushed through my veins. “Don’t you have a ball in the rough to go find?”

He gave me his sexy smile. Yeah, my game was shot to hell now. I nearly tripped over my own two feet at the way he looked at me, all possessive and brimming with lust.

While he went in search of his ball from his only slice, I caught up with my father and grabbed my sand wedge and putter. He’d overshot the green and left the cart to trudge over the hill. Ethan was the only one who’d neatly landed close to the pin.

Softly swearing a blue streak, I took three swings at my ball. It hit the wall of the trap each time.

Suddenly there were strong arms around me, large hands covering mine on the club. Dane’s deliciously hunky body pressed against my backside.

“From this angle,” he said as he put my arms in motion, “come down right behind the ball. Really slam into the sand.” He guided me confidently through the practice swing.

Seriously? He expected me to concentrate on golfing when he was wrapped around me, fully surrounding me, his commanding presence seeping through my body?

Not a chance.

“This is the bane of my game,” I told him. “I hate making a mess.”

“Sometimes it’s necessary in order to get what you want.”

“Are we still talking about my swing?”

“No time to waste. Your dad is almost at his ball.” Currently his back was to us.

“It’s not exactly easy to focus on anything other than you when you’ve got your arms around me.” And with all of those rigid muscles melding to my curves … Lord have mercy.

Dane’s lips grazed my temple as he murmured, “Glad I get you all worked up.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” I confessed.

A dark sound fell from his lips, arousing me further. “Probably a good thing, or I’m going to have trouble walking. Your father will slug me and I’ll have to let him, because it’s well deserved while I’m thinking about how tight you are and how wet you get for me.”

I smiled through the lusty sigh swelling in my throat. “We’d better get out of the bunker or he’ll catch us like this and slug you anyway.”

“Do what I said,” he instructed.

“So bossy.”

With a snicker, he said, “You don’t know the half of it.”

“Funny.”