Page 7 of Fake Christmas Date Cowboy

“That jackass was really the last man you were with?”

Mesmerized by how close he sat and how warm she was from the fire, as well as his strong, chiseled body, she could only nod dumbly in response.

He leaned in closer so his breath washed over her lips. Her senses tingled from the scent of cloves.

Her voice was a rough rasp. “He really was the last. And I hate that fact.”

Hooking her beneath the chin, he drew her closer. “Well, Belle…”

“Yes?” Heat sank between her thighs.

“Let’s fix that.” He leaned in.

Then kissed her.

ChapterTwo

Declan had seen women in a state of fear before. And this one was setting off his radar.

While Belle appeared more at ease for the moment, she definitely had a story, and it involved that couple from the party.

What he never planned for was putting his hands on her. Or his mouth on her.

He only needed a couple minutes in her presence to know she was his type. He was a sucker for lush curves and an even bigger sucker for beautiful eyes, especially when she looked up at him with a silent plea for help.

And god, those lips… He issued a low groan. The first tender brush of his mouth over hers spiked a need that he didn’t allow himself to feel most of the time.

Slowly, he trailed his mouth over hers back and forth for several passes. The need to deepen the kiss damn near took over, but somehow he managed to pull away.

Her deep brown eyes glittered, and he’d seen enough woman to know it wasn’t just alcohol causing it.

Giving a small laugh, she bowed her head with a flush of color on her cheeks that wasn’t from the cold either. In the shelter of the foliage and with the fire feet away from them, it was plenty warm on the bench.

Snowflakes snagged on her brown hair and caught the firelight and shined back the color of the whiskey she’d drank from his flask. He raised a hand to brush the flakes away before they melted, but they kept falling.

One stuck in her long dark lashes. And when she looked up at him with her eyes full of desire, what was he to do?

With a hand on her nape—it might be his new favorite spot on a woman’s body—he pulled her in and claimed her mouth. Right before his eyes slammed shut on the sensation of her plump lips giving way under his, he spotted several more snowflakes caught in those sultry lashes.

He slipped his tongue along the seam of her lips. On a soft gasp, she opened to him.

And he plunged inside.

The dark need spiraling through him wasn’t something he let take over very often, if ever. This lust at first sight was real and raw and—

He growled when her tongue stroked over his with all the bold directness he loved in a woman.

Cupping her nape, he angled his head.

And plundered her.

Her fingers crumpled the front of his crisp white shirt. She scooted closer on the bench. The heat from her knee touching his stole up his thigh and hit his groin.

With a rough noise, he planted his hands on her waist and lifted her into his lap. She threw her arms around him and kissed him with a force that had him rock hard in a fraction of a blink.

Her thin dress did nothing to shield her from the cold—or from the evidence of his arousal. He paused, waiting for her protest, but she wiggled against his cock, anything but afraid of the desire pulsating between them.

Delving his tongue into her mouth, he drew moan after moan from her. The sweet sounds grew grittier, more intense. When she suddenly shifted on his lap, straddling him, their eyes locked for a full heartbeat.

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