“Oh.” Her small hands stroked his shoulders in a way he remembered…and enjoyed.

He nibbled on her jaw. “I think we can maintain a boss-employee dynamic at the roadhouse and still have a friendlier connection outside of work.”

“A connection?” Her lips quirked.

“Precisely.” Damned if he could resist her. Even though she’d only stayed one night, he missed her in his bed.

“You’re crazy. You know I’m not going to stay in Rescue.”

“I did hear that, yes.” They’d see where they were when the summer season ended. Plans did change, after all.

“Well. All right.” Her big brown eyes searched his for a moment, then her mouth curved into a sultry smile. “Yes, let’s connect.”

He kissed her again, slow and sure, taking possession even as he slid a hand beneath her black tank top and black sports bra to savor her perfect breasts.

More. He sat back on his heels so he could pull her shirt and bra up and off.

“Fuck. You are incredibly beautiful, woman.” The sunlight glowed on her damp olive skin. Her lush breasts, a shade lighter, were tipped with large pink-brown nipples that practically begged for his touch.

Words were inadequate. He bent to pay homage with his mouth, licking between the soft mounds, kissing up and over the nipples, sucking on each until they peaked…and she squirmed in need of more.

Perfect. But stripping her completely naked in a park, even with the dog on guard, wasn’t wise. He eyed the area, grinned, and rose. Partly naked would work.

“Bull?” Frankie stared up at him, and damn, but he seemed even bigger than normal, standing over her.

He closed his hands around her waist, lifted easily, and set her on her feet.

Had he changed his mind?

He noticed her expression, and a dimple appeared in his cheek. “We’re not done, Ms. Bocelli.”

“Oh. Good.” Wrapping her hands behind his neck, she pulled him down. The long, exploratory kiss led her mind to other things she wanted to do, to touch, to lick.

Step by step, his mouth on hers, he moved her backward until her butt bumped into a picnic table. “Stand right there for a minute.” He pulled off his shirt and covered the surface.

His arms brushed against her naked breasts as he reached down to untie her joggers. Oh, this was so unwise. And somehow, she didn’t care. She ran her hands over his bare chest, leaning forward to lick over taut, salty, damp skin, to swirl her tongue around one of the flat male nipples.

His growl sent hunger rolling up and over her.

Hands cupping her face, he kissed her long and hard, then spun her around. With his hand between her shoulder blades, he bent her down until her breasts flattened against the picnic table.

On his shirt. Because, being Bull, he’d made sure she was protected from dirt and splinters.