"So this is what you do at the crack of dawn?" Dara leaned against the wall with a smile. Jerry looked back, unimpressed by the sarcasm in her voice. "Golf is fun," he insisted to her. Dara let out a chuckle and glanced at his semi-nude frame, "I can think of more fun things to do than play golf," she said suggestively. "One slip of my hand, and you're on full view for all to see."
"Luv, in case you've forgotten, we're surrounded by cows and the random poisonous snake," Jerry huffed as he attempted to concentrate back on his game as the picture of Dara in that little red number occupied his thoughts. "This is what I came here for, to watch your crappy shots impress an audience of cows?" she shot back, feeling the heat of an Australian dawn. "Not exactly the best thing for Prada," she added. "I think I got the wrong size too, it's a little tight on me." Jerry's eyes flicked back to the lithe, tawny legs that taunted him. The thick towel wouldn't conceal his arrousal forever, not as long as Dara continued to do whatever it was she was doing to distract him so successfully. As usual.
Dropping the club, he pounced, pinning her against the wall, moments later claiming her lips with a searing kiss. "I've decided golf, for now, can wait." Dara bit her lip as he ground into her gently. "When I'm done with you, golf will be the furthest thing from your mind," she promised.
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