Lori Foster - Forever Buckhorn

He gave her a wry look. “It was an awfully simplified kiss.”

Unable to help herself, she looked at his mouth. Her lips still tingled from the brief contact with his. It took all her concentration not to lick her lips, not to chew on them. Her heartbeat was still racing too quickly, her stomach was in knots of anticipation…no! Dread, not anticipation. She had to be philosophical. “You mean, if I made the kiss longer…”

So softly she could barely hear him, he said, “Why don’t you give it a try and see?”

She could do this! She was not a fainthearted ninny. Determination stiffened her spine. Sensual awareness sharpened her senses. She gave one quick nod.

Laying the pencil and paper aside, she bent, clasped her palms over his ears to anchor both him and herself, then kissed him for all she was worth.

Never having done much kissing, she had no idea if she was doing it right. But she mashed her mouth tightly to his, turned her head subtly so their lips meshed, and sighed. Or maybe it was more a growl filled with resolution.

His lips felt firm, warm. This close, his scent was stronger, drifting over her, making her insides fill with a new and unexpected need. He was so hot, his skin where they touched almost burning her. Her chin bumped his, their noses rubbed together, and her wrists rested on his silky hot shoulders. She stopped moving her mouth and simply breathed deeply.

Gabe groaned, then promptly laughed, startling her enough that she sat up and stared at him in hurt and confusion.

With a small smile, using only one rough finger, he stroked her bottom lip. His words were as gentle as his touch, and just as devastating. “You haven’t done much kissing, have you, Lizzy?”

Indignation would be misplaced; obviously, he could already tell she was inexperienced, so why should she deny it or be embarrassed? He could see what she looked like, had even used the same insulting taunt of Red she’d heard in grade school. He could probably guess at the other names—freckle face and scarecrow. And no doubt he understood the way she’d been ignored in high school, when all the boys were chasing cheerleaders with bubbly personalities and model faces.

None of that hurt her anymore. She had found more important things to do with her time. With an accepting shrug, she agreed. “Pitifully little, actually.” And even that was an exaggeration.

Amazingly, his smile turned seductive. He came up on his right elbow, wrapped the fingers of his left hand around her nape and pulled her close. Against her mouth, he whispered, “Then allow me.”

His tongue… Oh gracious. His mouth opened hers with almost no effort. His tongue touched, teased, not really entering her mouth, but making her crazed with small licks and tastes, softly, wetly stroking. She held herself very still so as not to disturb him or interrupt his progress.

Slowly, in infinitesimal degrees, he pulled his mouth away. His hand still held her neck, his fingers caressing, and he stared at her mouth. “You’re not kissing me back, Lizzy.”

“I…” She hadn’t realized he wanted her to. All her senses had been attuned to what he was doing, not what she might do. “Sorry.”

With a groan, he took her mouth again, not so gently this time, a hungry greed coming through to curl her toes and make her fingers go numb. Elizabeth leaned into him, tilted her head the tiniest bit to better accept his mouth. She braced her hands against his chest, then jerked at how hot his skin was, the way his chest hair felt on her palms. Her breasts tingled, and below her stomach an insistent tingling demanded her attention.

She panted, and this time when his tongue touched her mouth, she captured it, stroking her tongue against him.

She wasn’t sure if it was her heartbeat or his that rocked her. His hand left her head and captured her elbow. She found herself being slowly lowered to the dock, but she didn’t care; she just wanted him to go on kissing her like this, creating the overwhelming turmoil inside her. She liked it. She liked him—his taste, his hardness, his scent.

His chest crushed her breasts, but not uncomfortably. It helped to ease the ache there, but then the ache intensified, especially when he moved, abrading her taut nipples. She gasped.

He was braced over her with his elbows on either side of her head. Tentatively, uncertain how far she should go, Elizabeth placed her hands on his back. His tongue stroked deeply and she moaned, arching into him.

Gabe pulled away with a curse. He stared into her eyes, his face so close she could see his individual lashes, and then with another soft curse he sat up and gave her his back.

She struggled for breath, not certain what had happened, if she’d done something wrong. She pressed her palms flat on the rough wooden dock and tried to secure herself. Her head was spinning, her heart beating so wildly she thought it might punch right out of her chest. Her lungs felt constricted, and she couldn’t get enough air, which forced her to pant. And there was the most delicious tingling sensation deep inside her.

Gabe ran a hand through his hair, but he kept his back to her. She could see the straight line of his spine, the shift of his muscles as he, too, breathed deeply, quickly. With his attention elsewhere, she devoured him with her eyes. His skin was bronzed, testimony to how much time he spent on the lake, and a striking contrast to his fair hair and burning blue eyes. His damp shorts rode low on trim hips, but all she could see was tanned flesh.

Abruptly he shifted and speared her with a look, as if he’d sensed her regard. Over his shoulder, his gaze razor sharp, he growled, “Ask your damn question.”

Still gasping, Elizabeth tried to gather her wits. Question? Her muddled mind came up with one reply. “Are you tanned all over?”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than she realized her mistake. Gabe’s eyes widened comically. There was a moment of startled hesitation, then he threw his head back and laughed, the sound bouncing off the placid surface of the lake to return to her again and again, making her brain hurt and her face throb with heat.

Appalled, she started to sit up, but just that quick, Gabe caught her shoulders and pinned her in place.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice a husky rumble. His mouth was still slightly curled in amusement.

Elizabeth tried to think. “I…I meant to ask you—”

“I know what you meant,” he growled around another smile. “You want me to skin off my shorts so you can get a good look at my backside, just to appease your curiosity?”

Yes. “No, of course not!” He loomed over her, making rational thought impossible. But then, everything about Gabriel Kasper, from their first meeting to now, had been impossible.

“Liar.” There was no insult in the accusation. In fact, he said it with amused affection, like an endearment. Then he kissed her again, softly, slowly. Elizabeth felt a constriction in her chest that had nothing to do with the way he held her and everything to do with the realization of all she’d missed in life.

The kiss wasn’t consuming, but sweetly sensual. As Gabe lifted his head, he looked at her breasts, gently crushed against the hard planes of his chest. A slight tremble went through him as he swept one fingertip over the upper swell of each breast. “Are these real, sweetheart?”

Her breath strangled at the feel of his hot, rough finger stroking her there, in a place no man had ever touched. Eyes wide, she muttered, “What are you talking about?”

“You have such a sexy body.” That taunting fingertip dipped slightly into her cleavage, causing her heart to pick up a quick, almost frantic beat. “And these breasts…so plump when you’re so trim everywhere else. So soft when you’re mostly firm. I just wondered if Mother Nature had really been so generous, or if you’d had a little help.”