Texas Wild by Brenda Jackson

just how alone
they were.
    “It didn’t take you long to change clothes,” he said.
    She chuckled. “A habit you inherit when you have impatient
brothers. Zane drove me, Gemma and Bailey to school every day when he was
around. And when he wasn’t, the duty fell on Derringer.”
    Rico seemed to be listening so she kept on talking, telling him
bits and pieces about her family, fun times she’d encountered while growing up.
She knew they were killing time and figured he was trying to make sure she was
comfortable and not nervous with him. He wanted her to be at ease. For what, she
wasn’t sure, although he’d told her what he wanted to do and she’d come anyway.
They had kissed twice so she knew what to expect, but he’d also said he would
let her stay in control of the situation.
    “You’re hot?”
    She figured he was asking because she’d rolled down the window.
“I was, but the air is cooler outside than I thought,” she said, rolling it back
up. She took a deep, steadying breath and leaned forward again, trying to
downplay the sexual energy seeping through her bones. He hadn’t said much. He’d
mainly let her talk and listened to what she’d said. But as she stared down at
the canyon again she felt his presence in an intense way.
    “Megan?”
    Her pulse jumped when he said her name. With a deliberate
slowness, she glanced over at him. “Yes?”
    “I want you over here, closer to me.”
    She swallowed and then took note that she was sort of hugging
the door. The truck had bench seats, and there was a lot of unused space
separating them. Another body could sit between them comfortably. “I thought
you’d want your space.”
    “I don’t. What I want is you.”
    It was what he said as well as how he’d said it that sent all
kinds of sensations oozing through her. His voice had a deep, drugging timbre
that made her feel as if her skin were being caressed.
    Without saying anything, she slid across the seat toward him,
and he curved his arms across the back of the seat. “A little closer won’t
hurt,” he said huskily.
    She glanced up at him. “If I get any closer, I’ll end up in
your lap.”
    “That’s the idea.”
    Megan’s brows furrowed. He wanted her in his lap? He had to be
joking, right? She studied his gaze and saw he was dead serious. Her stomach
quivered as they stared at each other. The intensity in the hazel eyes that held
her within their scope flooded her with all kinds of feelings, and she was
breathless again.
    “Do you recall the first time we kissed, Megan?”
    She nodded. “Yes.” How on earth could she forget it?
    “Afterward, I lay awake at night remembering how it had
been.”
    She was surprised a man would do that. She thought since kisses
came by the dozen, they didn’t remember one from the next. “You did?”
    “Yes. You tasted good.”
    She swallowed and felt her bottom lips began to tremble. “Did
I?”
    He reached out and traced a fingertip across her trembling
lips. “Yes. And do you know what else I remembered?”
    “No, what?”
    “How your body felt pressed against mine, even with clothes on.
And of course that made me think of you without any clothes on.”
    Desire filtered through her body. If he was saying these things
to weaken her, break down her defenses, corrode her self-control, it was
working. “Do you say this to all the girls?” she asked—a part of her wanted to
know. Needed to know.
    He frowned. “No. And in a way, that’s what bothers me.”
    She knew she shouldn’t ask but couldn’t stop herself from doing
so. “Bothers you how?”
    He hesitated for a moment, broke eye contact with her to look
straight ahead, out the window. Slowly, methodically, he returned his gaze back
to her. “I usually don’t let women get next to me. But for some reason I’m
allowing you to be the exception.”
    He didn’t sound too happy about it, either, she concluded. But
then, wasn’t she doing the same thing? She had let him kiss her twice,