her roam up his arm and discover the lean muscle there. He watched
the caress, lips parting. Merry took a deep breath, tugged gently. He edged closer.
She’d seen confusion on that face, alarm, disbelief. But this was new—a more hesitant
breed of uncertainty, like he’d never been invited to kiss a woman before. His eyes
darted between hers, lips pursing and relaxing, but drawing no closer. Maybe he was
trying to be a gentleman, not registering which of them was attempting to seduce the
other. His eyes shut, and he swallowed. His hands were on his shin, clutching it like
a roller coaster’s safety bar.
Merry touched his neck, then his jaw, with its overgrown stubble. She wanted to trace
every feature—those dark brows, strong nose, the faint lines around his eyes. His
mouth, so sensual at rest, but tensed now, a tight, hard line. He was handsome when
he smiled, sexy when he scowled; beguiling when he hesitated this way, unreadable
and fascinating.
Those lips parted, and his deep voice was as soft as she’d ever heard it.
“You smell nice,” he murmured. “Like the tropics.”
“Thanks. It’s gardenia and jasmine and—”
Quit babbling.
“Anyway. I felt silly even bothering to pack it. But now I’m glad I did.”
His eyes opened, playing a game of tag with hers, meeting and dodging, meeting again.
His lips pursed and parted half a dozen times.
“I want to, if you do,” she whispered.
His lids lowered, hiding all but a sliver of steely blue, and he turned, bent knee
resting atop her thigh. The fingers that touched her jaw were warm and coarse, but
his lips felt smooth when they met hers. This contact, hot and sweet as a gulp of
tea, and her body dissolved like sugar.
The kiss lasted only a second before Rob pulled back, studying her face.
“Has it been a long time?” she whispered.
His gaze captured hers, pinning it in place. “It’s been a very long time.”
His uncertainty was gone. She saw a darkening in his cheeks and nose, his ears. His
pupils had dilated and a sheen had come to his forehead. Never had a man’s arousal
shown itself to her so viscerally, yet the shift didn’t scare her. Her intuition rang
no warning bells. This man was a stranger, but her body wanted to know his—what it
felt like, how it reacted, what it wanted from hers. Those were the secrets she wanted
to uncover, not the ones that had driven him from his old life. She touched his neck,
feeling the thump of his pulse, the heat of his skin.
Her own pulse raced, breath drawing short. Rob was the first man she’d ever gotten
close to with her new body, and the mingled insecurities and pride that came with
it. The possibility was terrifying. And thrilling. And
right
.
She watched him swallow a moment before his mouth returned to hers. Just a soft, shy
press of his lips, then her name in a low whisper. “Merry.”
She shivered, excitement deepening. It tingled in her sex and breasts as curiosity
sharpened to want. Rob kissed her again and she stroked his shoulder, hard muscle
hiding under soft flannel. His beard didn’t feel as she’d expected—not scratchy at
all. It underlined the differences between them, made the contrast of masculine and
feminine all the more stunning. He angled his face, and his hand rose to cup her ear,
bumping her sore temple.
“Ooh.” She clamped a palm reflexively to the spot.
He snatched his hand away, horrified. “Shit, sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Don’t stop, for the love the God.
“You can keep . . .”
He nodded. “Okay.”
She shifted and they fumbled to get their legs arranged—hers arched over Rob’s, their
middles edging closer. He kissed her gently at first, slowly taking her cues and beginning
to explore her mouth. After a cautious start, he found his rhythm, the contact feeling
more confident with each hot slide of his tongue. The hesitance left his fingers and
a hunger rose in him, so tangible
M. J. Arlidge
J.W. McKenna
Unknown
J. R. Roberts
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Hazel St. James
M. G. Morgan
Raffaella Barker
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