Faith, Honor & Freedom by Shannon Callahan Page B

visit sometime soon. She and Uncle Ned miss you, too.”
    “I’d like that,” she says, pulling on her belt.
    Lana in a bikini? Maybe I should plan the trip sooner rather than later.

Chapter 8
     
     
    I yawn, feeling exhausted, but refusing to give in. I had to beg Hoss to watch Safe Haven, promising I’d stay awake for it. He pointed out that I always fall asleep anyway, so what did it matter which movie we watched. In the end I won. I glance over at him, eyes partially open. He’s incredibly handsome when he’s relaxed, and right now the light stubble on his jawline enhances his masculine qualities in such a way that I’m almost awestruck by how affected I am by him.
    He’s changed into a tight white t-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. Even if he is my best friend, I have to admit, he looks incredibly sexy at the moment. He must feel my gaze on him, because he turns my way and gives me a genuine smile. They’re few and far between for Hoss, so I take it in, appreciating the way it changes his face into something that much more beautiful. I turn away, trying to stay awake, but it’s no use. I fall asleep, dreaming good thoughts.
     
    I wake to the feel of fingers running through my hair. It feels so good, I almost fall back to sleep. That is, until I realize I’m not at home in my own warm bed. I turn and look around, realizing quickly that I’m at Hoss’s condo. I glance over at the television, but the screen is now black. I look up to find Hoss staring down at me, still running his fingers through my hair. He’s sitting up, but I’m stretched across the couch, my head resting in his lap.
    “You fell asleep, Sunshine, just like I knew you would,” he says in a throaty voice.
    “Sorry,” I mumble, sleepily.
    “That’s okay, I enjoyed it anyway,” he says, and I have to wonder if he meant the movie or something else.
    He doesn’t leave me wondering long, though; he bends down and places a gentle kiss on my lips. It’s so unlike Hoss that I actually pull away.
    “What was that?” I ask sleepily, wondering if I’m still dreaming.
    “I just had to, at least once,” he says longingly. I shoot up from his lap, wondering what sort of alternate universe I just entered.
    “What do you mean,” I ask, sitting on my knees, turned toward him on the couch.
    He looks at me for a good long minute. It looks as though he’s about to say something, but instead, leans in the few inches to my face, and pulls me in for another kiss. I’m stunned again, wondering if I should be pulling back and slapping his face, or kissing him back, to see what over a decade of intense practice gets you. I part my mouth slightly, and let curiosity win over.
    His tongue reaches in and sweeps over mine eagerly; he lifts his hand to the back of my neck and draws me in closer. It heats up quickly, and soon I feel a deep yearning rise up in the pit of my stomach. My nipples harden, and my core starts aching for his touch. I grab a hold of his other hand and slide it up under my shirt, desperate to feel his warm skin on all of my sensitive areas. His hand inches up slowly, and then quickly pulls it back down and out of my shirt. He breaks our kiss, and looks at me with a pained expression on his face.
    “I can’t Lana,” he says, and I feel my body scream at the rejection. I remember the email in his office from Emma.
    “Is it Emma?” I ask. He looks at me confused.
    “What? No, it’s not Emma. It’s not anyone.”
    “Then shut up and kiss me, Weston,” I breathe, desperate to finish what we started. I grab his hand, and slip it back under my shirt. Does he not want me? I look down between his thighs and see the thick length bulging underneath. He tilts my chin, back up to his face.
    “Of course I fucking want you,” he says, answering my unspoken question. With that, I decide to take control of the situation. He’s already changed our relationship from the first kiss, what’s it matter if we take it any further? My