"Are you sure?" He lowered his head until his lips were inches from the soft curves of hers, the scent of her wrapping around him, the smell of honeysuckle and a tint of clover infusing his senses.
"No second thoughts." Her breathing was rougher now, her lips parting as Lance allowed his hands to settle on her bare waist, to feel the incredibly soft flesh beneath them.
The temptation of those lips was too much to deny. He lowered his head as her hands fluttered against his chest, the feel of them sinking past the cloth of his shirt as he fought to rein in his desire.
Just a kiss, he promised himself as he touched her lips with his. He was the sheriff; he couldn't get caught necking in public. But one kiss surely wouldn't hurt. Or so he thought. Until her lips parted on a soft little gasp, and her tongue touched his. The subtle taste of honeysuckle was stronger here, sweet and clean as it fueled his hunger.
Lance felt her hands slide up his chest, move to his neck, then bury themselves in his hair as a soft moan vibrated against his lips. He kissed her with soft greed, reminding himself each second that it could go no further. He could kiss her. Just a taste before the main course.
As his lips moved over hers, he found his hunger for her surging, overtaking his common sense and his control. His hands slid beneath her top, stroking the satiny flesh until they filled with the firm mounds of her br**sts. And she was arching to him, her soft cry muffled by his suddenly devouring lips.
His tongue pushed against hers, twined with it, drew it to his lips and suckled it into his own mouth as she arched against him.
She tasted like hot, needy sex. Like a temptress made for lust, built for endurance and pleasure. And if he wasn't very, very careful he was going to end up f**king her right there in the parking lot.
"We're getting in trouble here." His hands slid from her br**sts to her rear, gripping the snug curves and moving her against his thigh as his lips trailed over her jaw to her neck. Lance nipped at the fragrant skin there as he felt the heated, cloth-covered curves of her pu**y riding his thigh. She was panting for breath now, flushed, a soft dew of perspiration covering her skin.
"This isn't natural." Her voice was dazed, thick with need as he stroked his lips and tongue over her neck, heading for the valley of her br**sts and the soft flesh he knew he would find there.
She was softer than any other woman he had ever touched. Sweeter. Hotter. And he was one second from ripping his jeans open, lifting her to the seat and f**king the hell out of her.
"I'm sure it is." Lance licked at the dampness between her br**sts, tasting honeysuckle there as well. Damn, he was developing a fondness for honeysuckle. If only the taste wasn't so subtle. Then he could fill his senses with it, sate his need for it. He flexed his fingers in the curves of her ass as he helped her ride him, swearing he could feel the damp heat of her pu**y searing him through her pants and his jeans.
"You taste as sweet as summer," he growled. Her lips were at his forehead, pressing against him tentatively, causing him to pause in this frantic desperation to taste as much of her as possible, returning to him a measure of control.
Her lips touched him with feeling. He could feel it in the soft breeze that wrapped around them, the whisper of confusion and lost dreams in the air at his ear. As though she had never willingly touched before.
CHAPTER 2
"Shhhh." Lance's soft croon whispered over Harmony's distraught senses as his head lifted from the curve of her br**sts.
He lowered her shirt, the distracting touch of his hands on her br**sts easing the arousal threatening to overwhelm her.
She stared up at him, dazed, as his hands pressed her hair back from her heated cheeks, before he placed a tender kiss on her lips.
"In you go," he whispered.
Moving his hands to her h*ps he lifted her to the seat before picking up her purse from the pavement to hand it in to her.
She had lost her only protection as he held her? Her tote held her knife and the small gun she carried when she couldn't wear her weapons. She never let it off her arm unless absolutely necessary. And she had never, ever dropped it.
She flinched as the driver's side door opened and he got in. She could smell him, an intoxicating blend of the night and the seasons merging into his scent.
"Ready?" His voice was dark, the rasp of a sexually aroused primal male ready to claim a female.
She lifted her head, inhaling deeply as her gaze met his.
"I'm ready," she whispered.
She was past ready. Her body was screaming for him now. Her senses were dazed, her mind in upheaval. She couldn't think of anything past his touch, gorging herself on him, sating the hunger raging in her flesh.
She had gone from a lifetime of never caring either way if she lay beneath a man, to being suddenly desperate to feel him covering her.
Lance started the vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot as Harmony kept her peripheral vision trained on the small mirror at the side of her door. She could see no evidence that they were being followed, but her nape prickled in awareness. Unfortunately her survival instinct was squelched the moment Lance's hand moved from the gearshift to lift hers from her lap.
"Your hands are soft." His voice was a bit unsteady, his lust rising as he laid her hand on the gearshift, covering it with his own as he drove.
"Thank you." She had learned how to flirt within a year of her escape from the labs. She knew the word games, the social repartee that kept men at a distance. But none of it came to mind now.
All she knew was the pulse of her heartbeat in the stiffness of her ni**les, in the engorged bud of her clitoris and her hungry vagina. She was so wet she could feel her own juices dampening the silk of her thong and the rasp of the swollen folds of her pu**y against the ultrasoft denim she wore.
His thumb caressed over hers, the faintly calloused flesh exciting sensitive nerve endings as Harmony fought to catch her breath.
"Is this your first time to Broken Butte?" His voice was quiet in the confines of the vehicle.
Harmony shifted in her seat, swallowing tightly as she frowned at the oddly sweet taste filling her mouth. She wanted his taste. The rich earthy essence of the wind and the land against her tongue.
"Yes." She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes briefly in an effort to maintain her control.
She had never been on such an edge. She didn't feel wholly herself, and that was damned scary. She had never been out of control. She processed information quickly and her decisions were ones she knew had merit.