Sugar Creek by Toni Blake Page B

could have happened to anyone.”
    He simply stood hovering over her, shaking his head in disbelief. “And what the hell is a pashmina?”
    She motioned at her wrap. “This. It’s Persian.”
    “Looks like a shawl to me,” he muttered.
    Now it was her turn to glare at him . “No, your grandmother wears a shawl. This is a pashmina .”
    “Well, your damn pashmina just got us stuck in here. Hope you’re happy.”
    Rachel sighed audibly. He was back to being his jerky self, that fast. “No, as a matter of fact, I’m not happy. I’m freaking miserable , actually.”
    “Well, it’s your own damn fault,” he complained.
    And that was it . She stared boldly up into those dark brown eyes of his, thoroughly disgusted. She’d had it with his rude behavior. She’d had it with…everything. “Look, I didn’t want to come here tonight. I did it as a favor for a friend. I don’t even want to be in this stupid town, but here I am, trying to help out my grandma. And now I’ve got you , giving me ridiculously expensive tickets and acting like I’m a terrible person every time I see you. Well, I’m not that terrible, Romo. So why don’t you just take your attitude and your blame and your self-righteousness and shove it up your—”
    “Stop!” he said then, reaching up, closing his hands tight on her upper arms. “Be quiet! Be quiet.”
    At first, she thought maybe he’d heard something outside and wanted to listen. But that’s when she realized he was staring at her lips. And that somewhere during her diatribe his eyes had drifted half shut, while his mouth now fell slightly open. He still had that light, stubbly beard going, and being right next to him like this, she could smell that musky scent again—in fact, it was permeating her senses. He stood so close, just a few inches away. How had she not noticed that until now?
    As she’d spoken, her adrenaline had risen, and peering up at him, she heard herself breathing—and he suddenly seemed to be breathing pretty heavily, too.
    “Maybe we should just do this, get it over with, get it out of our systems,” he said.
    She blinked up at him. “Do what?”
    And then he kissed her—hard.
    His mouth sank over hers with such power that she had to lean into him just to keep from collapsing.
    “Oh. That,” she breathed when the kiss ended.
    Then she instinctively kissed him again, pressing her hands to his chest. She was a little shocked—by his actions, by hers—but mostly just…pleasured.
    “Yeah. That,” he said, voice ragged with passion.
    After which their mouths came back together, kissing feverishly, and Rachel followed the urge to ease back against his sturdy body, now feeling his kiss…everywhere.
    Mike pulled her to him and his hands roamed her back, her ass. She felt that big bulge of his hardening against her thigh and hungered for it more than she’d known she could. Part of her couldn’t believe she was standing here making out with Mike Romo, but most of her couldn’t think straight enough to stop. She had been aching for him—she couldn’t deny that. And maybe he was right, about them getting it out of their systems. As more and more pleasure echoed through her body,it seemed as good a reason as any to barrel full steam ahead.
    And then he slowed down. Just a little. He lifted both hands to her face and kissed her more deeply, his tongue snaking between her lips. She met it with her own and surged with moisture below.
    Mmm, God, yes. Now this was kissing. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had kissed her so thoughtfully, so thoroughly. She hadn’t imagined it being like this with Mike Romo at all. The harder, more urgent kissing—yeah, that was what she’d expected, and she’d been perfectly turned on by it. But this—this she felt in her chest, in the small of her back; it stretched down her inner thighs.
    When he finally ended the kissing, they were both breathing audibly. He drew his hands from her face—one he molded to