Page 41 of Lone Star Protector

She might have cheered in triumph if his mouth hadn’t claimed hers. Now, this was a kiss. A scalding, scorching kiss that promised so much more to come.

And more came.

He slid his mouth and tongue down to her neck. Then, to the front of her shirt. Her body reacted all right, and this time the heat didn’t just glide, it roared through her. Parts of her started to make demands. Demands that Nash seemed well on the way to fulfilling when he took those torturous kisses to the front of her shirt.

To her breasts.

Caroline got so caught up in the pleasure of the moment. Caught in the fantasy of being with Nash like this. That she forgot something major.

Something that she got an instant reminder of when Nash lifted her shirt.

She stepped back, and with her breath gusting, she stared at him. “The scars,” she managed to say. “I, uh, don’t want you to see them again.”

“Because you think it’ll make me want you less?” he asked.

He closed the distance between them and kissed her with his breath. No mouth-to-mouth contact. Just the breath that carried his scent, his taste, and some kind of erotic pull that made her want to jump him right then, right there.

“Trust me,” he said, his voice a slow, easy drawl that was his own form of foreplay. “Wanting you less isn’t an option for me.”

She wanted to argue. Caroline wanted to tell him that he could be wrong. That he might change his mind when he saw, and touched, the scars.

But she wanted him more than either of those other things.

So, she stepped toward him, straight into his waiting arms. Nash didn’t make her wait though for anything else. He picked up where he’d left off with the kisses, trailing from her mouth, to her neck, to the front of her shirt. Then, he lifted it, shoving down her bra and giving her some well-placed kisses that had her drowning in pleasure.

And falling.

Except, no. Not falling.

He was lowering her to the smooth stone rim of the hot tub where he gently placed her on her back. The kisses continued, and he appeared to be on a sensual journey to explore every part of her body because he kissed her stomach next, circling her naval with his tongue.

She had a fleeting thought of his mouth on her scars. Just fleeting though. Hard to think of scars when he was doling out such sweet torture.

Along with getting her naked.

Nash pulled off her top. Her bra. She felt the warm, misty air settle on her skin as he exposed more and more of her by taking off her shoes and shimmying her jeans down her legs.

Her panties, too.

Before she could protest that she was now naked and he wasn’t, he gave her a kiss that rendered her speechless. Heck, it nearly caused her to climax. Because he kissed her between her legs, right in her center.

She closed her eyes, arching her back and accepting everything he was giving her. For a couple of seconds anyway. When she felt that climax about to roll through her, Caroline put the pause button on her pleasure and did a role reversal.

Nash probably could have stopped her from moving, from maneuvering him so that he was lying on the floor and she was on top of him. He didn’t because she didn’t give him a chance. She kissed him, hard and deep, as he’d done to her, and she started that whole getting him naked part.

And what an adventure that was.

She got off his shoulder holster and the rest of his weapons, including his phone. Then, his shirt. She might have gone straight for his jeans, but mercy, she had to take a moment to admire the view. The man was built.

“Good grief,” she muttered. “No one has a right to look this good.”

He smiled. “I feel the same way about you.”

That was probably BS, but she didn’t give that much thought. Correction—she couldn’t give it much thought. That’s because she was focused on something that felt much more urgent.

Kissing her way down all those toned and tanned muscles.

She kissed her way down to the zipper of his jeans. Because she got so caught up in the sensations of having her mouth on his body, she didn’t feel herself getting too close to the edge.