Page 49 of Flippin' Cowboy
If he made one wrong move now, if he’d misread her, then he was about to flush everything down the toilet. The job, his television career… and most importantly, his fragile truce with Winnie.
Nick didn’t know why he was courting danger like this. Maybe because it was way too long since he’d gone on a date.
Or maybe, after what he’d seen and heard tonight, he needed to show Winnie exactly how desirable she was. And that she was worth ten of her miserable, cheating ex-fiancé.
Before he could tell himself that this was a bad idea, his other hand was sliding under the mass of her hair spread over the neck and shoulders of her jacket. He cupped her bare, warm nape and pulled her against him.
Her body felt amazing against his, even with layers of winter wear separating them.
“Nick, what are you doing?” she whispered as he bent to claim her lips at last.
He stopped a fraction of an inch away, so close that her warm breath caressed his skin. “What I’ve been thinking about doing for weeks now.”
“Weeks?” She shook her head minutely. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Nope. I want to kiss you, Winnie.” Nick wondered if her next move was going to be a hard shove. Or maybe a knee to the crotch.
Several excruciatingly long seconds passed as she stared up at him wordlessly. Nick waited, feeling the tension of impending doom.
I fucked this up, he thought.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” she finally asked. Her eyes gleamed with mischief… and something else.
Desire.
Then she surprised the hell out of Nick by going up on her tiptoes and kissing him.
It was quick, no more than the lightest brush of her lips against his, but it ignited his barely controlled desire like gasoline added to fire.
Raw need flared up inside him with a roar of scorching flames.
When she pulled back—or tried to—he claimed her mouth. She tasted like coffee and spiced pears, and his world rapidly shrank down to her lips, her hair brushing the back of his hand, and her warm scent.
She made a muffled “Oh!” sound against him.
Then she was kissing him back with frantic hunger. Her arms wound around his neck and pulled his head down with desperate strength.
Nick groaned at their perfect melding of lips and tongues and teeth, and feasted on deep kisses, more intoxicating than the finest aged bourbon.
Holy shit, he couldn’t believe that Winnie was actually in his arms, her mouth panting and fevered against his.
He sucked her plump bottom lip between his teeth, nipping and licking as his hands moved down her body, pulling her even closer. Her sweetly rounded ass fit perfectly into his cupped palms.
“Nice,” he managed between kisses. “Every time you bend over, all I can think about is putting my hands.. right…here.” He squeezed appreciatively.
“And I’ve been thinking about doingthis.” She leaned back, thrusting her hips against the bulging front of his jeans—good—and creating space between her chest and his—bad.
Then she ripped open the front of his jacket. The releasing snaps sounded like small shots in the frosty night air. Then her hands spread against his chest, stroking him through his flannel shirt before moving over his shoulders.
“You’re wearing too many goddamn clothes,” she complained.
“That’smyline,” he managed. “I fuckinghatewinter in Montana.”
He grabbed her waist and lifted her onto the hood of his Jeep, then stepped between her spread thighs and leaned in.
She gasped in his ear as he ground his massive hard-on between her denim-clad legs. Her teeth closed on his lobe as her thighs clamped his hips. She seemed to be enjoying herself. The friction against his stiff length taunted him without satisfaction.
He grabbed the soft, thick fall of her glossy hair and wrapped it around his hand. He pulled her head back before dipping to bite the side of her soft, warm neck. She made a gratifying little whimper and her fingers dug into his shoulders.
