Laura Altom - Blind Luck Bride

She took a long time drawing her next breath, praying the additional air might still her frenzied pulse. Rats. No such luck. “Dallas, please…”

“Please what?” he said, his breath hot against her neck, her right ear. “Please, kiss you? Please slide my hands up your shirt? Please take you back to our poor, lonely suite?”

Without waiting for her reply, he did slip his hands under her shirt, and such was her shock—not to mention secret, aching delight—she froze, allowing him to skim his open palms up her torso until finally reaching her silk-covered breasts. The heat of his palms caused her nipples to traitorously swell, and she deeply, honestly searched for a reason to push him away. But in the end, the only dizzying thought that sprang to mind was that Dallas was now her husband. She was his wife. And if they stayed their current course, no matter how impossible it seemed, every dream she’d ever had would be well on its way to coming true.

Skimming her hands to his back, she arched into him, licking her lips before darting her gaze to make one last check they were alone. However wary she might have been about ever again opening her heart, the attraction drawing her ever-closer to her husband was a powerful thing. Two seconds later, when Dallas still hadn’t crushed his lips to hers, she decided to live life on the edge by cupping the back of his head and drawing him to her, finishing the job herself.

Dear Lord, Finn thought on the heels of a groan. Had he ever partaken of a woman so sweet? Lilly’s kisses tasted like ice cream and cotton candy. Bubble gum and red hots. She was the most honeyed, most indescribably delicious thing he’d ever tasted and he couldn’t wait for more. Damn Mitch. Finn had won his part of the bet fair and square. Whatever happened between Lilly and him from this point on was gravy—or maybe that should have been chocolate sauce!

“Oh, Dallas,” she softly crooned. “You have such a way with kisses.”

Screech. There went those damned mental brakes.

Like fingernails on a chalkboard, Lilly’s calling him Dallas grated his nerves. That’s it. Once and for all, they had to establish the perimeters of their relationship—not that they even had a relationship—but before he made love to her, which he fully planned to do by the end of the day, Finn wanted to hear his name spilled from those full, pouty lips.

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