Page 193 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
There’s no air between us now. All I can smell is the soap he always uses, the one that never quite washes away the scent of horses.
I try to laugh it off, shaky and hollow. “I didn’tletanything. It’s a show, Hart.”
“Don’t care.”
His hand slides to my waist, fingers curling possessively. “Don’t want anyone else puttin’ their hands on you. Not like that. Not ever.”
The heat between us ignites like a match to dry grass.
I hate that I still know every inch of him, that just one look could strip me bare.
“You were the one who walked away.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“I had to,” he growls, closing his eyes like the memory burns.
He steps even closer, so close his belt buckle brushes my stomach.
“But tonight?” His eyes pierce mine. “You up there, flushed and smiling and touched by some asshole in a plastic hat tooursong? I nearly lost my goddamn mind.”
My breath snags on his words, but I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to do.
His breath grows ragged, like he’s been holding it in too long. And we stand there for a few beats before his big hands cup my face and he pulls me so close, so quick, I expect him to kiss me. But he stops. A breath’s space away, and I feel his tremble match mine.
And then, his voice cracks, low and desperate. “Please.” His voice breaks, begging for a kiss, just as affected by the song.
My heart stutters in my chest.
I don’t know what he’s asking, but the intensity in his eyes makes me dizzy.
My mouth dries.
I can’t breathe.
I should ask why the hell he wants to kiss me. Why he’s holding me like he never wants to let go. Demand to know why he’d be affected after he walked away from me.
But I don’t.
I simply whisper, “Yes.”
His mouth descends on my lips, brushing them before pressing down, soft and searching.
Every second stretches.
I can’t think.
I can’t move.
I just feel the heat of him and the urgency in his kiss.
I didn’t expect this. But somehow, I’m not pulling away. This is what I have missed.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him even closer.
Hart takes a step into me, pushing me flush against the wall.
My heart rate accelerates, my body reacts, and I don’t question a damn thing. I release my mind and my body to respond to him. Our kiss deepens, and I find myself grinding against Hart’s bulge. This is no hit-it-and-quit-it locking of lips. This is a kiss that puts into words all we can’t say.
His hands leave my face and slide down my sides, coming to a stop on my hips. He pulls from the kiss and rests his forehead against mine, looking me straight in the eye.
