Page 50 of Wrangling the Orc Cowboy

He blinked. “You're right. It doesn't have anything to do with kissing.” He gave me a firm nod. “I'm going to do it. Soon. I just need to?—”

“Tark.”

“What?”

I tapped my lips. “Kiss me here first.”

“Very well.” He sounded so solemn, it was all I could do not to snicker. Because he might be bumbling or falling into walls, but he was amazing. Fun. I loved how gruff and stoic his exterior was. It encased a soft, squishy interior I could easily love.

Tark leaned closer, and time seemed to stretch as anticipation hummed through the air around us. My heart pounded. I could see the determination on his face, the way his brow furrowed with concentration as if this kiss was a crucial undertaking.

With a tentative move, he brushed a single strand of hair from my face, his fingers grazing my skin in a feather's touch. Every nerve in my body lit up, blooming with excitement. He hesitated longer, measuring the distance between us, before finally closing the gap.

When his lips met mine, it was a gentle press, a soft exploration rather than a storm. The world melted away. Nothing mattered but us. He tasted intoxicating, warm, and rich like the earth we lay on. I melted into the kiss, latching onto his shoulders, pouring all the emotions welling inside me into this moment.

He pulled back, studying me with an awe that left me breathless. “You taste like sunshine.” His bemused expression returned, only this time, it was accompanied by a flicker of something else in his gaze I couldn’t define.

“And you taste like the promise of something new.”

His laughter came out low, like the growl of a distant thunderstorm. “You have a way with words, Gracie. I like that.”

My cheeks warmed. “It’s your fault. And the beautiful scenery.”

“Nothing matters if you’re not here to enjoy it.”

“Kiss me here, now.” I tapped my neck.

“You're sure?”

“Would I suggest you do it if I wasn't?”

“Kissing there could…”

“Could what?”

He cocked one shoulder up before lowering it. “Make me want more.”

“How much more?”

“Everything,” he breathed.

My heart flipped over and galloped across the plain.

“I still want you to kiss me here.” I tapped my neck again, then the top of my breasts revealed by my shirt. “And here. See what happens after that?”

“Gracie. Do you mean that?”

“I've never meant anything more in my life.”

“Gracie.” He buried his face in my neck and sucked in a breath. His tongue dipped out to gently stroke my skin. “I don't want to hurt you,” he mumbled. “I'm big and awkward, and I'd probably bumble even a kiss on your neck too. Slam my mouth against you too hard or something.”

Heat coiled through me. “I want you to slam something too hard.”

I could see him processing this in his slow blinks, before he glanced up, dragging his eyes from mine fast. “Truly?”

“Truly.”

“Gracie,” he growled.

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