She wasn’t quite sure what let me in meant, but she leaned forward, resting a hand on his shoulder. After quickly wetting her lips, she leaned closer. She didn’t immediately kiss him; instead, she hovered, enjoying his breath on her cheek, and the way his eyes closed, his lashes dark against his sun-ripened skin. The exotic pipe tobacco the man at the next table had been smoking still clung to his clothes, but beneath it, Jackson smelled of the soap he’d used when they’d cleaned up before dinner. And of something else, something warm and spicy.
With a groan, he closed the distance between them and caught her mouth. She gasped when his tongue swept across the seam of her lips. The moment her lips parted, his tongue darted inside, bringing with it a taste of the coffee he’d had. Is that what he’d meant by let him in?
He drew away, his breathing as heavy as hers. “Let’s get you out of the rest of this rig.”
He made short work of the hooks and eyes her fingers had fumbled with when she’d dressed that morning. Her skirt pooled at her feet, joined shortly by the metal rings of her crinoline.
She would have been fine if he hadn’t rested his hands on her hips and drawn her against him. The only thing separating her from the hard length resting against her belly was the thin cotton of her chemise and his trousers. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop from stiffening in his arms.
“Don’t you worry. We’re gonna take this real slow tonight. ” He made a soothing sound and returned to just kissing her. Even under such a simple attention, Sarah became aware of sensations rising in her body she’d never felt before. The way the chemise rasped against her nipples. The strange pulses heating her belly. Lower. Of how her body softened, how her breasts grew heavy, how each breath was hard to draw even without the corset confining her.
He stole another gasp from her when his hand cupped her breast, his thumb toying with the nipple the way she’d seen Nate playing with Jackson’s the night before. The tips hardened into buds and he lowered his head over her breast. Never had she imagined the pleasure that poured through her when he captured the peak with his mouth. Heat from the tip through her belly and into the crevice between her thighs. Once again he made that soothing noise, the rumble from his chest accentuating the steady beat of his heart. Then he shifted so she lay on her back, staring up at him. Supporting himself on one elbow, he stared down at her, his eyes dark in the soft light, unfathomable. Callused fingers skimmed over her knee, up her thigh, then inward.
Her eyes opened wide, and she arched into the pillow with a gasp when his fingers slipped beneath the fabric and touched parts no man had ever dared touch.
“Sssh, stop thinkin’ so hard and let yourself feel,” he whispered.
Feel? How did she feel? Scandalous. Wanton.
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Copyright © 2011 by Leah Braemel
If you’ve already read Tangled Past, please help me spread the word as the bundle of both Texas Tangle and Tangled Past is being released, and on sale, starting on Tuesday.