Texas Heroes_ Volume 1(114)

She couldn’t let that happen. Not to him, not to herself. They stood at the precipice of something amazing. Something they both needed, she thought.

She placed her hand on one arm, rigid with muscle. His face closed down as she watched.

What to say? How to explain? Perrie understood intimately the treachery of words.

Instead she took action, sliding her hand up his arm to caress his hard jaw. Still tense, he cut her a wary glance.

And her woman’s heart realized that he was as afraid of her as she was of him.

It was a novel thought, so incredible as to be almost beyond conceiving. But as she pondered, something told her she was right. Mitch might be physically far stronger, but hadn’t she seen often enough that the hard shell covered a heart capable of great tenderness? Hadn’t he shown her a hundred times just how different he was from Simon?

She knew he’d been alone most of his life. Had seen his longing, the traces of a hunger he would not admit.

A hunger he’d continue to deny if she gave up here and let cowardice win. Thinking of all the ways he’d demonstrated that the hard loner was only a façade, Perrie drew on the strength that had gotten her this far—

And took a chance.

She met his gaze and refused to release it. With unsteady fingers, she reached for the top button of her peach velour shirt, easing it open.

Mitch’s hot gaze followed her hands. As she bared her body, she saw his nostrils flare, his hands clench tight. His eyes shot up to study hers. She forced herself not to look away, then slowly leaned toward him, bringing her mouth within a breath of his.

Just before their lips touched, he spoke her name, his voice as much question as moan.

She had no words, so she answered with her lips, pressing a kiss to his mouth, opening to him and touching her tongue to his lips.

Fire flashed through Mitch’s body, fire and a spark of hope. He pulled her down again, spreading her across his lap, his fingers driving into her hair as his tongue slid into the dark wine of her mouth.

Thrown from a foretaste of heaven to the empty void and back, Mitch reeled off-balance like a top skidding across a rocky floor. He grasped for the control that had saved his life, but it was lost in the bright flare of Perrie’s kiss, the fine promise of her flesh pressing against his.

The image of her pale hands working at the fabric, baring the tender valley between her breasts…

Mitch groaned and took the kiss deeper.

She responded like no woman he’d ever known. Fire tinged with innocence, heat layered with honey. She arched against him again, a soft moan against his kiss, her fingers sliding into his hair and pulling him closer still.

Mitch forgot all the reasons why this could not happen. Forgot why he should walk away. In the honeyed darkness of Perrie’s kiss, he found a dream. Tomorrow would still be tomorrow, but tonight, he needed only her, only this.

Sliding his hand up her body, he worked at her remaining buttons, baring her to the silken top beneath her shirt. Hard nipples against the soft fabric begged for his touch. Mitch tore his mouth from hers, his gaze greedily devouring the sight.

“You’re so beautiful.” He trailed his fingers over the silk, coming to rest over the lush contour of her breast.

She gasped but leaned into his touch.

Edgy, dark need sizzled down his spine. Oh, God. He wanted her so badly, wanted her fast and hard and hot. But he had to do this right.

He paused. Gathered himself. Then slowly…softly, he circled one finger, tracing her curves, nearing the hard peak of her nipple while he watched her blue eyes darken to navy smoke.

Perrie moaned, and her head fell back over his arm. She pressed her breast closer as if begging for his hand. Instead, Mitch brought her his mouth.

When the wet heat closed over her flesh, Perrie’s moan slid deep into her throat. Her hips bucked, and hunger wiped all thought from her mind. She clutched at his hair. A fever gripped her, an urgency Perrie had never before felt. She wanted to moan, to beg…though she didn’t know what to beg for.

But Mitch did.

He captured her mouth again, skimming one hand beneath her silken undershirt, his fingers gliding over skin that put the fabric to shame. Then he tore his mouth from hers while he bared her torso to his gaze.

Perrie felt just the opposite of anything she’d expected. Mitch’s hot eyes didn’t make her want to hide but instead to preen, to display, to invite not only his touch but his gaze. For a woman who had only known sex as shame and degradation, Mitch’s desire was power and healing. For the first time in her life, Perrie understood the strength of her womanhood, the electric arc between woman and man.

That arc fed a hunger she’d never realized she was capable of. She wanted to know it all, everything this man could teach her. With fingers made reckless by desire, she gripped his body and dragged him close.