Falling For Her Boss by Karen Rose Smith Page B

not kissing you last night.  I'm not going to have those same regrets tonight," he murmured.
    As he leaned toward her, her fingers curled on his shoulders.  He gave her time to back away.  She didn't.  She raised her head and met him.
    The first touch of his lips on hers aroused him.  He savored the sensations, just as he savored Francie.  He wasn't about to hurry this; it was already turning into a once-in-a-lifetime experience.  Splaying his fingers through her hair, he cradled her head in his hands.
    She was softness and sweetness and passion—everything he could want or need.  Lightly rubbing his lips across hers, he teased them both.  Francie parted her lips.  But still Noah didn't enter.  He took her lower lip between his teeth, laving it with his tongue.  Francie caught her breath and gave a small erotic moan, fueling Noah's desire.
    He let go of her head and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her body closer.  His leather jacket, her down one, created inhibiting barriers, leaving the kiss to become their only means of contact.  With the tip of his tongue, Noah touched Francie's.  She was still for a moment, then shyly stroked against him.  Desire rushed through him and throbbed in his lower body until he almost hurt from the need.  When had he needed so much?  When had passion left him so breathless?  When had a simple kiss brought him to such full, immediate arousal?  Never before.
    The wintry air emphasized the burning heat of their kiss.  The night silence created a bubble of intimacy he didn't want to burst before he could get his fill of Francie.  She tasted as warm and sweet and natural as honey on a summer afternoon.
    His tongue chased hers.  She tagged him back.  Their play became tantalizing, quicker, feverish.  Noah knew he should break away.  He knew he couldn't go any further with her.  The knowing sharpened his control but made the wanting and needing that much more unbearable.  He wanted so much more than a kiss.  He needed more than a padded embrace.
    Francie sought Noah's heat, wanting his warmth under her hands.  His leather jacket was as cold as the night.  She abandoned it in favor of the warm skin of his neck.  She caressed with her thumbs, ruffling the hair at his nape.  Thick and healthy, it felt like rich fur over her fingers.  The scent of wood burning in a neighbor's fireplace wrapped around them and mingled with Noah's manly scent.  Not cologne, but soap and Noah, an intoxicating combination.
    One that made her forget kissing Noah could be a mistake, made her forget she wasn't ready to give her heart to anyone, made her forget Noah would be leaving in a couple of weeks, made her forget he was her boss.
    Each time he stroked her tongue, caressed her back, or pulled her even closer, her excitement escalated and she wanted more.  The passion between them became a palpable need.  Her shivering had nothing to do with the winter night, everything to do with being in Noah's arms.
    When he pressed his lower body against hers, his powerful arousal astonished her.  Was it possible he wanted her that much?  Or would he need any woman that much?  When Brent had been making love to her, he'd been thinking about someone else.  What was Noah thinking about?  Was this pure physical need, or did he feel more?
    The questions floated away as Noah's kiss created a hurricane of sensations and emotions in her mind, in her body, in her heart.  Kissing Noah was as exhilarating as flying through the air, as satisfying as landing a double axel, as dangerous as the death spiral, as dizzying as a prolonged spin.  It drew from her all her energy; it gave her excitement and pleasure and a keening need only Noah could fill.  It was confusing and thrilling, and she wanted it to go on forever.
    She also knew it wouldn't.  She knew Noah was going to break away.  Even as the thought came, he loosened his hold, slowed down the kiss until his lips only whispered against hers,