Judy Duarte - Bluegrass Baby

Either way, he couldn’t imagine letting her drive away without brushing his lips across hers. And as he did so, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close, allowing the kiss to deepen and their tongues to touch and taste.

She whimpered softly, and he was lost in a swirl of heat, a fire of desire.

A sense of urgency swept over him, and he pulled her close, felt her fingers snake through his hair. A jolt of heat damn near sent him over the edge, and he wanted more. Far more than he could have, standing out in the open, in a parking lot.

He wanted this woman. Tonight.

The strength of his desire should have scared him, should have caused him to turn tail and get his happy-to-be-a-bachelor butt out of Dodge.

Instead he savored her scent, her touch, and lost himself in one of the most arousing kisses he’d ever had.

Still, it didn’t take him long to realize this public display of raw, sexual hunger needed to be taken indoors. With great reluctance he broke the kiss long enough to whisper against the silky strands of her hair.

“Come home with me.”

Come home with me.

As the words echoed through Milla’s core, her own physical need chimed in.

Kyle wanted her. And she wanted him, too. The strength of her arousal surprised her, as did the decision hovering in the sultry night air.

Her knees still wobbly from the sensual assault of Kyle’s mouth, she tried to catch her breath, to gain control of her runaway desire. But she wasn’t having any luck.

Kyle leaned against the side of her car. Had his knees nearly given out on him, too?

Their bodies no longer touched, but his gaze held her transfixed. “There’s something powerful going on between us.”

He had that right. The kiss they’d shared had been so hot, so unlike anything she’d ever experienced, that her ability to think or reason seemed to have disappeared. For good.

And right now she wasn’t so sure that was a bad thing. Her feelings were too strong, charged and close to the surface.

“You feel it, too,” he told her.

She nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“What are we going to do about it?”

As she saw it, they had two options. She could get in her car and drive away, knowing regret would follow her home. And this darn whatever-it-was would haunt her every time their paths crossed.

Or a second and more pleasing option—she could throw caution to the wind. Do something wild for a change. Experience something she might never experience again.

She could make love to Kyle Bingham, resident heartthrob of Merlyn County Regional Hospital. If his kiss could turn her inside out, what would their lovemaking be like?

They hadn’t closed the sexually charged gap between them, yet she could hear his heart pounding, feel his blood rushing through his veins. Or was that her own?

“Let’s take this inside,” he said. “Behind closed doors.”

Milla knew she should pull herself together and graciously decline. But the fact of the matter was she wanted more of Kyle’s kisses, more of his touch.

And she wanted it now.

He stepped toward her and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. His heated gaze drew her into the sexual depths of something she couldn’t resist.

“All right.” Her voice held a seductive edge she’d never noticed before. And when the words left her mouth, she didn’t regret them. Not at all.

He caught her cheek in his hand and brought his mouth to hers in a hot, breath-stealing kiss that spoke a promise—not of forever, but of fulfillment.

But that’s all she needed tonight.

Fulfillment.

To feel competent and capable, no longer shaken by the unfairness of the Canfields’ charges. To have her confidence restored in the arms of a doctor who made her heart soar and her blood race.

“Okay. Let’s go,” she said. “You lead the way.”

They each climbed into their cars, and she followed Kyle to the outskirts of town, where he turned down a quiet little street called Bluebonnet Lane. His black BMW pulled under a carport near the end unit of a sage-colored triplex flanked by duplexes on each side. She parked on the street.

Funny, she’d imagined him living somewhere else, someplace expensive and grand. Not that it mattered, of course.

He opened her door in a gentlemanly manner, then helped her from the car.

“I bought these units as an investment,” Kyle said, as he led her to the front door. “My mom lives in one side of the first duplex. She’s a proud lady and won’t let me help her out financially. So we reached a compromise. She watches out for the other units in exchange for rent. When I move back to Boston, she’ll oversee this one, too.”

When he let her inside the small home, she wasn’t sure what to expect. Something to match his GQ clothing and his flashy car, she supposed. Instead she found the living room had been decorated simply. A plain brown sofa. White walls. Miniblinds on the window overlooking the street. His place was clean and almost sterile.

The only thing that stood out was a big-screen television that seemed out of place.

“I’m not home often,” he said, as though reading her thoughts. “I couldn’t see any point in buying furniture or in putting anything on the walls. I’ve got all I need.”

She nodded, scanning the sparse, uncluttered room, unable to keep from wondering if he ever felt lonely in a place that seemed to be little more than four walls, a sofa and a theater-size TV.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, his voice low, almost quiet. “A glass of wine, maybe?”

The attraction between them remained hot, yet neither moved.

Was Kyle nervous, too? The dapper doctor who had every single midwife and nurse on staff at the clinic and the hospital giggling and whispering like girls with a crush on the new boy at school?

Maybe so.

The thought pleased her and made her feel feminine and powerful. The arousing effect only bolstered her confidence in the decision she’d made to follow him home.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. “I don’t think either of us came here wanting more to drink.”

He tossed her a crooked grin, and all signs of nervousness fell away. “You’re right. I was just trying to be a good host.”

Feeling bolder than she’d ever felt before, Milla stepped closer, reached a hand to his cheek, brushed a thumb across his angular jaw and felt the tingle from the faint bristle of his beard. “Maybe one more kiss will make this easier for both of us.”

She’d barely lifted her lips to his when he took the lead, took her tongue and took her breath away.

Lordy, how that man could kiss.

Milla lost herself in the wet, velvety confines of Kyle’s mouth. And in the heat of his embrace, reality slipped away and magic took its place, releasing a display of mystical fireworks that lit her heart and soul.

Kyle wasn’t sure what it was about Milla that swept him away, but he wasn’t about to analyze it, not when he held her in his arms and felt her breasts splayed against his chest as she leaned into his demanding erection.

He’d never lost himself in a woman before, hadn’t ever expected to, but he seemed to be momentarily losing himself in Milla, in her kiss and the soft swirl of her springtime scent. He might be sorry later, but that’s when he would think about it.

Later. After he’d buried himself in her softness, lost himself in the passion that plagued them both. There was a heat in Milla’s touch, a fire in her kiss. And he couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

She tugged at his shirt, pulling it from the waistband of his slacks, and then grabbed at his belt, freeing him. Freeing them both.

All the while, her mouth held his in sweet surrender. Her fingers blazed a trail along his skin, singeing his nerve endings.