Free Waking Up to You: Overexposed by Leslie Kelly

with her would have been more than his heart could have taken, even a couple of hours after she’d marched her bare little fanny up the stairs.
    No, not little. Round, supple, perfect.
    Just right for cupping in his hands, or pounding against as he took her from behind, the way he’d been dying to as he’d watched her sashay back to her room.
    He swallowed hard, wishing he hadn’t allowed himself to go back there in his mind. He’d managed to avoid thinking about her most of the day, but now the images came washing in. He was again overwhelmed by the memory of the gorgeous, naked ass she’d flashed at him as she’d ascended the stairs. He suspected he would keep seeing that vision for a long while, every time he closed his eyes. “You’re a complete idiot,” he muttered to himself. “You’re the one who insisted she walk up the stairs while you stood there like Pavlov’s dog, drowning in your own drool.”
    To give her credit, she had tried to warn him. No, she hadn’t come right out and told him what would happen—that he was about to be given a free peep show that would drive a grown man to his knees. And he suspected his own stubbornness had inspired hers. Still, he wasn’t sure he could ever forgive her for showing him what he could have had, if not for his own foul temper and his need to keep punishing himself by not taking anything he truly wanted. Being noble was all well and good, but if it came with blue balls, he’d far prefer being selfish.
    “Enough,” he reminded himself, trying to return his focus to the task at hand. The wine cellar. He still couldn’t believe it was here, or that it held so much.
    Buddy had found a treasure trove in the basement right before his accident, one he hadn’t even realized was there until he’d started trying out keys to locked rooms. That’s what had sent him hurrying down the porch steps to find Oliver. He’d intended to show it to Oliver and ask him to help inventory it.
    Now that it looked like Buddy wouldn’t be doing any stair-climbing for a while, Oliver had promised he’d get started. Buddy had agreed gratefully, telling him to help himself to anything he found...unless it was worth a king’s ransom, in which case he would need it for his medical bills.
    He hadn’t even thought about that, but now that his employer had brought it up, Oliver couldn’t help worrying about it. Buddy had sunk his life savings into this place. God, he hoped this accident didn’t bankrupt the man.
    Caught up in the old man’s excitement, he’d stopped by the store to pick up reference books with grades, rankings and values of old wine. Once he’d found the room and gotten started, he’d been shocked by the sheer quantity of bottles. Obviously, his own great-uncle, who’d bought out his siblings, including Oliver’s grandmother, hadn’t even realized what he had in his possession. He’d been from back East and never done a proper inventory on the place. The group that had bought the estate from him had intended to get investors to renovate it into some corporate retreat, but had never fully investigated, either.
    Buddy had bought the whole place—and its contents—out of bankruptcy and was legally entitled to everything here. Including this treasure trove. If the previous owners had realized what they’d had, this stuff would have been on auction blocks around the world, not still stored in this secure room, created solely for keeping wines in pristine condition.
    Okay, there was dust. A few cobwebs—Candace would hate the spiders. But for the most part, the setup was ideal and the bottles—more than one hundred of them, possibly close to two—looked sealed and correctly colored. It was very likely many of them were aged to perfection.
    This collection could be the answer to Buddy’s financial problems. Some of the bottles weren’t easily cataloged and an appraiser would have to do it. Many, though, had been listed in the books he’d brought with him as