Bear Claw Bodyguard by Jessica Andersen

ask you something.” She took a couple of steps and closed the gap between them. “If you really loved Kayla, why wouldn’t you go out on the road with her? Shouldn’tbeing with the person you love be more important than just a place?”
    He’d heard that one before, too, and could answer without heat: “Home and family are more than a place for me, Tori, and my career is more than a job. Any woman who’d expect me to give up any of those things doesn’t know me nearly well enough to ask.”
    He expected an argument, was braced for it. He wasn’t prepared for her to take the two more small steps needed to bring her inside his space, though, and he wasn’t braced for her to grab his collar and use it to tug his face down to her level. But that was what she did.
    They stood there for a breathless moment, nose-to-nose in the darkness. Then she leaned in, so her breath was warm against his lips as she whispered, “News flash, Detective. I’m not asking you to give up anything except your three-date, five-date, ten-date rules. And I’m offering fireworks in return.”
    Heat flared through him, lit him up and hollowed him out. As his senses started to churn, he told himself to back off, back away, call it a night. Instead, as the scent and feel of her burned in his blood and branded itself deep in his psyche, he caught the back of her neck.
    And he moved in.
    They met halfway in a kiss that instantly heated, becoming far more than the simple press of lips and touch of tongues, turning instead to urgent desire. The clutch of her hands at the back of his neck said Come closer. The hum at the back of her throat said Yes, there. And the slide of her tongue said More.
    So he went closer, touched there, gave more and, there in the concealing darkness, with them the only peoplearound for miles and miles, he gave in to what his body wanted, what the heat demanded. He gathered her close and leaned back against the railing, and was suddenly very aware of the free fall that waited behind him, seeming to beckon for them both. But there was no reason to take the plunge when everything he wanted right then was in his arms, kissing him back with fervent abandon.
    She was warm and womanly, and where in the daylight her personality made her seem larger than her physical self, in the darkness her unabashed sensuality seemed to exceed her physical form, making her seem to be everywhere at once, surrounding him with light touches and inciting caresses that made his blood burn and his heartbeat thunder in his ears. She tempted him with her mouth, seduced him with touches that trailed across his ribs and down his flanks to hidden spots that made him shudder against her and groan into their heated kiss.
    Moaning, she swayed against him, fisting her hands in his shirt and hanging on as if she’d lost her balance. His equilibrium was long gone, swept away by the flames that raged within him, blazing hotter and faster than drought-spawned wildfires as he filled his hands with her hips and cupped the sweet curves of her bottom. Lifting, he drew her up against his body, let her feel him hard and wanting behind his zipper.
    Her breasts pressed against his chest, inciting him with the hint of hard, budded nipples beneath her shirt and bra. He wanted to cup them, touch them, rub them until she moaned into his mouth. His pulse thudded as he lowered her to her feet, following her mouth so their lips never parted, so the kiss never ended, but instead continued on in a swirl of flavor, sensation and intimate heat while hetugged her shirt out of her waistband and slipped his hands beneath.
    Her skin was so soft it felt like a dream—warm, fluid and yielding—and she purred against his mouth, wordlessly urging him onward. He slid his hands up from the slight flare of her hips to the lean dip of her waist, and then higher so he could skim the heels of his hands along the edges of her breasts. Lace brushed softly against his skin, achingly feminine. He