warm, to forget the past and what it could do to her. Maybe if she kissed Beau, she could do that. At least that’s the lie she told herself.
Until his tongue flicked against the bow of her mouth.
The touch was his brand, and a warning. This wasn’t about emotional comfort. This was about crossing the line and recognizing the sensual current that flowed between them. Neither of them could afford the risk, and neither of them could stop what was going to happen.
Silence surrounded them, holding common sense at bay. All that was left was anticipation. The unbearable certainty that she’d lost her mind. The world narrowed to a strong mouth, an unshaven jaw, and the scent of rain and musk.
Somehow his hands had moved to her shoulders,cupping them, drawing her closer. His mouth slanted across hers, and his tongue slipped deep inside. Once. Twice. Each time he withdrew, the motion pulled heat through her. Sent desire snaking through her, swirling and settling deep in her belly.
It had been so long.…
Finally her fingers curled against his hard chest and tugged his shirt, a silent admission that she wanted more. Even as her tongue tangled with his, Maggie knew Beau had managed something that would haunt her. He’d gotten her to admit she wanted him.
Beau slid his hands down the open sides of her overalls, his spread fingers drifting beneath the denim and massaging her back while his thumbs traced the faint swell at the side of her breasts. The thin cotton top teased him because it hid nothing and everything from his touch. She wasn’t wearing a bra.
As he shifted to fit her into the cradle of his thighs, Maggie made a ragged sound of satisfaction. Suddenly he wanted more than just her generous mouth and the softness of her skin. He wanted all of her. Against him. Trusting him. The woman in his arms had no secrets, no sharp edges, no walls. No thorns.
She kissed the way she talked—reckless. As if there was no room for anything but sensation. His hand slipped completely inside her overalls, finding the edge of the skimpy shirt and shoving it out of his way. The soft denim teased his knuckles as he stroked the small of her back, urging her toward him.
When she arched against him, desire stabbed him hard. What he wanted—what he needed—was so clear. So close. He almost forgot that he couldn’t have Maggie.But reality never forgot. It tapped him on the shoulder and threw cold water on the fire.
For the second time tonight he felt robbed.
Beau pulled away. He stepped back, shakier than he wanted to admit.
Jesus.
If a kiss did this to him, he wasn’t sure he would survive taking Maggie to bed. Looking at her swollen lips only made him think of things they hadn’t done yet. Things he hadn’t done in a long time. Things he wanted to do. He swiped a hand across the stubble on his jaw and reminded himself to shave.
For what?
His brain was finally back in charge. There was no reason to shave. There wouldn’t be a next time.
This
time shouldn’t even have happened. Beau rested his hands on his hips and waited for Maggie to pull herself together. She had that thunderstruck we’re-not-in-Kansas-anymore look on her face. Beau imagined he had the same look on his. He didn’t even try to hide it. There wasn’t much point. Denying chemistry wasn’t going to change it.
Knowing she wasn’t the only one shaken by the kiss was small comfort for Maggie. She had no idea what to do with these feelings. They didn’t fit neatly into any of the cubbyholes she reserved for men. What she and Beau had done wasn’t fun or casual or even lust. That kiss went bone deep, real fast, and it rocked her.
So she did what she always did when life got too real to handle. She pretended it wasn’t real and that she was still in control.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Beau. If you were hoping for a confession, you just wasted a lip lock. I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Does that actually work?”
“Does what work?”
“The snappy
Until his tongue flicked against the bow of her mouth.
The touch was his brand, and a warning. This wasn’t about emotional comfort. This was about crossing the line and recognizing the sensual current that flowed between them. Neither of them could afford the risk, and neither of them could stop what was going to happen.
Silence surrounded them, holding common sense at bay. All that was left was anticipation. The unbearable certainty that she’d lost her mind. The world narrowed to a strong mouth, an unshaven jaw, and the scent of rain and musk.
Somehow his hands had moved to her shoulders,cupping them, drawing her closer. His mouth slanted across hers, and his tongue slipped deep inside. Once. Twice. Each time he withdrew, the motion pulled heat through her. Sent desire snaking through her, swirling and settling deep in her belly.
It had been so long.…
Finally her fingers curled against his hard chest and tugged his shirt, a silent admission that she wanted more. Even as her tongue tangled with his, Maggie knew Beau had managed something that would haunt her. He’d gotten her to admit she wanted him.
Beau slid his hands down the open sides of her overalls, his spread fingers drifting beneath the denim and massaging her back while his thumbs traced the faint swell at the side of her breasts. The thin cotton top teased him because it hid nothing and everything from his touch. She wasn’t wearing a bra.
As he shifted to fit her into the cradle of his thighs, Maggie made a ragged sound of satisfaction. Suddenly he wanted more than just her generous mouth and the softness of her skin. He wanted all of her. Against him. Trusting him. The woman in his arms had no secrets, no sharp edges, no walls. No thorns.
She kissed the way she talked—reckless. As if there was no room for anything but sensation. His hand slipped completely inside her overalls, finding the edge of the skimpy shirt and shoving it out of his way. The soft denim teased his knuckles as he stroked the small of her back, urging her toward him.
When she arched against him, desire stabbed him hard. What he wanted—what he needed—was so clear. So close. He almost forgot that he couldn’t have Maggie.But reality never forgot. It tapped him on the shoulder and threw cold water on the fire.
For the second time tonight he felt robbed.
Beau pulled away. He stepped back, shakier than he wanted to admit.
Jesus.
If a kiss did this to him, he wasn’t sure he would survive taking Maggie to bed. Looking at her swollen lips only made him think of things they hadn’t done yet. Things he hadn’t done in a long time. Things he wanted to do. He swiped a hand across the stubble on his jaw and reminded himself to shave.
For what?
His brain was finally back in charge. There was no reason to shave. There wouldn’t be a next time.
This
time shouldn’t even have happened. Beau rested his hands on his hips and waited for Maggie to pull herself together. She had that thunderstruck we’re-not-in-Kansas-anymore look on her face. Beau imagined he had the same look on his. He didn’t even try to hide it. There wasn’t much point. Denying chemistry wasn’t going to change it.
Knowing she wasn’t the only one shaken by the kiss was small comfort for Maggie. She had no idea what to do with these feelings. They didn’t fit neatly into any of the cubbyholes she reserved for men. What she and Beau had done wasn’t fun or casual or even lust. That kiss went bone deep, real fast, and it rocked her.
So she did what she always did when life got too real to handle. She pretended it wasn’t real and that she was still in control.
“Sorry to disappoint you, Beau. If you were hoping for a confession, you just wasted a lip lock. I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Does that actually work?”
“Does what work?”
“The snappy
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