Page 23 of Overdue for a Cowboy

Another tender touch, then his lips pressed to hers as both his palms cupped her cheeks, holding her in place as he kissed her,his mouth teasing hers, as if she were an exquisite treat that he was tasting for the first time.

A soft sigh escaped her as she melted into him. But she wanted more,neededmore.

One of his hands moved down her neck, his fingers tickling as they brushed over her skin. His mouth followed the path of his hand, laying a trail of warm kisses along her cheek then down the line of her neck. His fingers curled around the top of her sleeve and slowly drew it and her bra strap down her shoulder so he could kiss her bared collarbone then the slight dip of skin underneath it.

She caught her breath, the intimate feel of his soft lips grazing her skin sending waves of heat coursing through her.

The scent of him surrounded her—his freshly laundered shirt and something woodsy with a hint of citrus—and she wanted to inhale him.

His lips made a humming sound against her shoulder. It felt like a cross between a moan of pleasure and a sigh of satisfaction, and she reveled in the feel of it.

Tipping her head back, she gave him more of her neck to feast on, then let out her own sigh as his mouth moved over the sensitive area, the scruff of his beard leaving a delicious scrape on her skin.

His lips came back to hers, his kisses now harder and more demanding, as if he’d been starving for her and could finally sate his desire.

In a move that was smoother than she would have imagined, she moved her body so that she was straddling his lap. From thisvantage point, she could run her hand over his muscled arm, finally getting to touch his strong shoulders and biceps. As she moved her hips, pressing into him with need, she could feel how much he wanted her as well.

This position also allowed his hands to run over her, and a shiver ran through her as his long fingers slipped under her shirt and skimmed up her back. He gripped her waist, pulling her closer as this time, she deepened the kiss. She loved the feel of his hands on her and wanted him to touch hereverywhere.

She’d spent years imagining what it would be like to kiss this man, to touch him, and this was everything she’d dreamed of. Except it wasn’t enough…she wanted even more. She wanted his skin against hers, wanted to feel his hands, and his lips, on every inch of her body.

Squirming against him, she loved the way he growled into her mouth, as if he wanted her just as much. With one kiss, this man had her totally at his mercy. She would do anything for him. And she was ready to.

The fingers of her good hand reached for the hem of his shirt, ready to pull it up and off, her body craving the touch of his skin.

Her hand paused as the doorbell rang.

Moose stood and let out one warning bark, and Maisie wanted to cry. Who could be at her door?

Who cares? Ignore them.

But Dodge had already pulled away, looking as dazed and disoriented as she felt.

The dog ran to the door then back to them, giving Dodge’s leg a quick nudge as if maybe he hadn’t heard the bell.

Maisie stared at Dodge, her breath ragged as she tried to reorient herself. This felt like a fantasy come true. A fantasy that had just been interrupted by someone at the door.

Someone she was going to get rid of as soon as possible.

She just hoped that after the interruption, they could get back to doingthis, because she had more of Dodge Lassiter that she wanted to explore—with her hands,andher mouth.

Dodge shushed the dog as she crawled out of his lap. He pushed up from the sofa then held his hand out. She let him pull her up, then adjusted her clothes, pulling her shirt and bra strap up and adjusting the sling as she made her way across the room.

She opened the door to see Jacob Meyer, her seven-year-old neighbor, standing there. He had on shorts and a SpongeBob T-shirt and was holding a small shoebox, the size that might hold a child’s pair of shoes. “Hi Jacob,” she said, still trying to catch her breath.

“Hi Miss Maisie.” He squinted up at her, a pained expression on his face. “You got a black eye.” He said it as a statement rather than a question, as if he were lettingherknow as well as realizing the fact himself.

“Yes, I do.”

“Does it hurt?”

She hadn’t even been thinking about it the last few minutes, but now self-doubt washed over her as she wondered how Dodge could find her the least bit appealing with her bruised face and a shiner around her eye. “Not too bad.”

“Did you break your arm?”

“No, but I sprained my wrist.”

“Does that hurt?”

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