Jacquie D’Alessandro - In Over His Head

Silence fell between them, which was just as well because her "now it's my turn" game had shot his ability to make chitchat all to hell. Unable to endure the sweet torture she was inflicting on his palms any longer, he captured her hand and raised it to his mouth, pressing a heated kiss to the flower-scented inside of her wrist. Her lips parted and he absorbed the quickening of her pulse against his lips.

She was lovely. And smart. And had him aroused as hell. Him-Josh Maynard, regular guy. Not Josh Maynard, rodeo star. There wasn't an ounce of artifice or being celebrity-struck in her gaze. Only admiration and genuine interest-sentiments he returned-and enough heat to make him feel as if he were roasting over a barbecue pit.

Lexie looked across at Josh, his dark eyes watching her over their joined hands, her wrist tingling from the warm press of his lips, her body humming from his feather-light touches, and she had to forcibly recall how to breathe. In with the good air, out with the bad air.

Okay. Over the past two hours of beer and artery-clogging food, she'd found out that Josh Maynard was not only painfully attractive, but articulate, intelligent, amusing and had cared deeply for both his parents. She liked him. He wasn't a wacko, thank goodness, and had the sexiest smile she'd ever seen. The mere brush of his fingers against her skin had her libido dancing the cha-cha, and his hands were really, really sexy. Strong yet sensitive.

She wanted those hands on her.

And if there was any man on the planet who could kiss better than him, God bless the woman who found him. Josh not only had a beautiful mouth, he knew how to use it.

She wanted that mouth on her.

Everything masculine about him had everything feminine in her waving white flags of surrender. No doubt about it, he was the perfect fun, wild, temporary guy to end her long bout with celibacy and to catapult her back into the social swing. He was definitely Mr. Fling.

Lisa paused at their table and left the check. "You two need anything else?"

Privacy . "No, thanks, Lisa," Lexie said. Before she could reach for the check, Josh pulled it toward him and scribbled his name across the bottom, charging the amount to his room.

"I invited you ," Lexie protested. "This was supposed to be my treat."

"Aw, a cowboy can't let a lady buy his beer. Think of the ribbing I'd get around the campfire."

"Like you already get for your snakebite?"

"Exactly." He cocked a single brow. "Wanna see my scar?"

His tone was light but there was no mistaking the husky note of arousal in his voice or the underlying meaning behind his question. Leaning forward, she looked him right in the eye and whispered, "Yeah. I do."

His eyes darkened, filling with heat and promise. "My place or yours?"

"Yours is closer."

He slid across the booth, stood, then held out his hand. Without breaking eye contact, she slid her hand into his.

Josh congratulated himself on his self-control while walking her across the lobby-not an easy walk with his jeans nearly strangling him. And a nearly impossible amount of time to wait to touch her. Kiss her. What was it about this woman that had him so undone? So captivated? Had him wanting her as he'd never wanted another woman? And damn it, he should know, 'cause he'd sure as hell wanted his fair share.

Another couple stepped into the elevator with them, giving him a moment to collect himself, to get his desire under control. Indeed, by the time he shut the door to his room behind them, he had everything back in perspective. Sure he liked her, sure she was desirable, but that was it. A healthy case of lust. On both sides. They'd enjoy each other tonight, hell maybe for the duration of his stay here, and then they'd go their separate ways. No mess, no fuss, no interruption or complication of his plans. Perfect. His inner voice snickered, Yeah, right , but he managed to ignore it.

He slid the door bolt into place, then crossed the room to stand in front of Lexie, who stood at the foot of the king-size bed, looking at the floor. Uh-oh. Clearly she'd also spent those few minutes in the elevator thinking. Touching one finger under her chin, he gently raised her face until their eyes met.

"Second thoughts?" he asked.

"No. Yes." A short laugh pushed past her lips. "No. It's just that I'm feeling a bit discombobulated. It's, um, been a while."

Curious he asked, "How long is 'a while'?"

A flush of clear embarrassment washed over her cheeks. "Almost a year."

A soft whistle blew past his lips. "Must have been a hell of a breakup."

"Not in an acrimonious way. Actually it was more sad than anything. He was a good guy, but just not the right guy for me."

"Were you married?"

"Engaged."

"Well, he might have been a good guy, but he couldn't have been the smartest horse in the stable to let a gal like you get away. You can't let one bad apple spoil the whole bunch of bananas."

She laughed. "Now that's a mixed metaphor if I ever heard one."

"Well, that's the kind of woman you are."

"Hey, I'm a lot of things, but I am not a metaphor mixer."

"I meant you're the kind of woman who makes a man forget what he's saying. Forget what he's doing. Makes him all confused and-what was that word you used?"

"Discombobulated?"

"Yeah. That's what you do, all right. Get a man's ulated all discombobed." He brushed his fingertips over her smooth cheek. "Lexie, there's nothing to worry about. Making love is like riding a horse-you don't forget how."

A smile lifted up one corner of her mouth. "Bad analogy for two reasons. First, I think that 'you don't forget how' thing is about riding a bike ."

"Not where I come from. What's the second reason?"

"I've never ridden a horse."

He couldn't hide his surprise. "You're kidding. An outdoorsy gal like you?"

"Not kidding. The opportunity just never presented itself."

"We'll have to see what we can do about that. You don't know what you're missing." He looked down into her hazel eyes. "Any other problems?"

"Condoms?"

"Got 'em."

"Well, then, I guess I'm all talked out."

"That's the best news I've heard all night." Settling his hands on her hips, he pulled her closer, until their bodies touched from chest to knee. A wave of heat washed through him, gaining momentum at the desire simmering in her gaze. Lowering his head, he brushed his lips lightly over hers. A tiny sigh escaped her, warm and spicy against his mouth. She parted her lips, and his tongue glided into the velvet heat of her mouth.

In a heartbeat their kiss turned wild, a lush, open-mouthed mating of lips and tongues. It was as if she'd hooked him up to a bunch of electrodes, then flipped the switch. Raw want scraped at him, narrowing his every thought and focus on her. Her soft, fragrant skin, the feel of her hands moving up his chest, over his shoulders, then tangling in his hair.

He ran one hand up her back, silting his fingers into the curls brushing her nape, while his other hand wandered down to the curve of her bottom. She rose up on her toes, pressing herself more fully against him, and his erection jerked in response. Logic told him to slow down, to take his time and savor her, but unfortunately logic wasn't in charge. Besides, she was having none of it, and he wasn't about to argue. Her hands raced restlessly over him, down to his waistband, where she tugged impatiently at his T-shirt. He broke their kiss only long enough to pull it over his head. In the instant it took him to remove his shirt, she'd yanked her tank top over her head, then sent it sailing across the room.

He cupped her full breasts in his hands, gliding his thumbs over her aroused nipples. A low groan sounded in her throat, and he pulled his gaze up to her face. Her eyes were smoky with want, her lips wet and reddened from their ardent kiss. Before he could register more, she ran her palms down his chest, tickling her fingers over his abdomen, forcing a quick suck of air into his lungs. He moved forward, walking her backward, until the backs of her legs hit the foot of the bed.