"Are you ready to leave then?" His fingertips pressed against her blouse, feeling the muscles of her back as that small tremor washed through them again.
"I'm ready." Resignation filled her tone and her expression. Once again that strange, saddened little moan whispered past his ears as the air around them grew heavy with arousal. Hers and his. She was fighting the strength of her response to him, holding herself carefully back from him, refusing to relax in his embrace as her eyes swept quickly over the room.
Embarrassment? As though she wasn't quite certain that she wanted others to know her weakness, her arousal.
Lance waited until her gaze returned to his before speaking again.
"My place is just a few minutes from here. Are you ready to go?" he asked softly, knowing it was going to happen and damn if he wasn't looking forward to it. He took her hand and led her from the dance floor as the music paused. "You could follow me, or I could drive you back here in the morning for your vehicle," he suggested as they stepped out of the bar.
"Could we take my Jeep?" She paused at the steps, staring into the darkness around them. "I'd hate to have it towed."
She was sure her new boss would just love having to get his deputy's vehicle out of impound if it was towed away. She'd prefer not to start this little working relationship off on the wrong foot. The next six months were going to be hard enough as it was.
"Sounds good to me." He nodded carefully as she pulled her keys from the inside of the tote she carried on her shoulder and handed them to him.
"The blue Jeep." She nodded to the wide-track, sporty Wrangler across the lot. Keeping her hand in his, he led her across the parking lot. He unlocked the passengerside door for her, letting her move between the door and the seat before he caught her hip with one hand and turned her to him.
He felt her tense, as though she still wasn't quite certain of what she was doing. It was obvious that leaving a bar with a stranger wasn't a commonplace occurrence for her.
"Are you sure?" He lowered his head until his lips were inches from the soft curves of hers, the scent of her wrapping around him, the smell of honeysuckle and a tint of clover infusing his senses.
"No second thoughts." Her breathing was rougher now, her lips parting as Lance allowed his hands to settle on her bare waist, to feel the incredibly soft flesh beneath them.
The temptation of those lips was too much to deny. He lowered his head as her hands fluttered against his chest, the feel of them sinking past the cloth of his shirt as he fought to rein in his desire.
Just a kiss, he promised himself as he touched her lips with his. He was the sheriff; he couldn't get caught necking in public. But one kiss surely wouldn't hurt. Or so he thought. Until her lips parted on a soft little gasp, and her tongue touched his. The subtle taste of honeysuckle was stronger here, sweet and clean as it fueled his hunger.
Lance felt her hands slide up his chest, move to his neck, then bury themselves in his hair as a soft moan vibrated against his lips. He kissed her with soft greed, reminding himself each second that it could go no further. He could kiss her. Just a taste before the main course.
As his lips moved over hers, he found his hunger for her surging, overtaking his common sense and his control. His hands slid beneath her top, stroking the satiny flesh until they filled with the firm mounds of her breasts. And she was arching to him, her soft cry muffled by his suddenly devouring lips.
His tongue pushed against hers, twined with it, drew it to his lips and suckled it into his own mouth as she arched against him.
She tasted like hot, needy sex. Like a temptress made for lust, built for endurance and pleasure. And if he wasn't very, very careful he was going to end up fucking her right there in the parking lot.
"We're getting in trouble here." His hands slid from her breasts to her rear, gripping the snug curves and moving her against his thigh as his lips trailed over her jaw to her neck. Lance nipped at the fragrant skin there as he felt the heated, cloth-covered curves of her pussy riding his thigh. She was panting for breath now, flushed, a soft dew of perspiration covering her skin.
"This isn't natural." Her voice was dazed, thick with need as he stroked his lips and tongue over her neck, heading for the valley of her breasts and the soft flesh he knew he would find there.
She was softer than any other woman he had ever touched. Sweeter. Hotter. And he was one second from ripping his jeans open, lifting her to the seat and fucking the hell out of her.
"I'm sure it is." Lance licked at the dampness between her breasts, tasting honeysuckle there as well. Damn, he was developing a fondness for honeysuckle. If only the taste wasn't so subtle. Then he could fill his senses with it, sate his need for it. He flexed his fingers in the curves of her ass as he helped her ride him, swearing he could feel the damp heat of her pussy searing him through her pants and his jeans.
"You taste as sweet as summer," he growled. Her lips were at his forehead, pressing against him tentatively, causing him to pause in this frantic desperation to taste as much of her as possible, returning to him a measure of control.
Her lips touched him with feeling. He could feel it in the soft breeze that wrapped around them, the whisper of confusion and lost dreams in the air at his ear. As though she had never willingly touched before.
CHAPTER 2
"Shhhh." Lance's soft croon whispered over Harmony's distraught senses as his head lifted from the curve of her breasts.
He lowered her shirt, the distracting touch of his hands on her breasts easing the arousal threatening to overwhelm her.
She stared up at him, dazed, as his hands pressed her hair back from her heated cheeks, before he placed a tender kiss on her lips.
"In you go," he whispered.
Moving his hands to her hips he lifted her to the seat before picking up her purse from the pavement to hand it in to her.
She had lost her only protection as he held her? Her tote held her knife and the small gun she carried when she couldn't wear her weapons. She never let it off her arm unless absolutely necessary. And she had never, ever dropped it.
She flinched as the driver's side door opened and he got in. She could smell him, an intoxicating blend of the night and the seasons merging into his scent.
"Ready?" His voice was dark, the rasp of a sexually aroused primal male ready to claim a female.
She lifted her head, inhaling deeply as her gaze met his."I'm ready," she whispered.
She was past ready. Her body was screaming for him now. Her senses were dazed, her mind in upheaval. She couldn't think of anything past his touch, gorging herself on him, sating the hunger raging in her flesh.
She had gone from a lifetime of never caring either way if she lay beneath a man, to being suddenly desperate to feel him covering her.
Lance started the vehicle and pulled out of the parking lot as Harmony kept her peripheral vision trained on the small mirror at the side of her door. She could see no evidence that they were being followed, but her nape prickled in awareness. Unfortunately her survival instinct was squelched the moment Lance's hand moved from the gearshift to lift hers from her lap.
"Your hands are soft." His voice was a bit unsteady, his lust rising as he laid her hand on the gearshift, covering it with his own as he drove.
"Thank you." She had learned how to flirt within a year of her escape from the labs. She knew the word games, the social repartee that kept men at a distance. But none of it came to mind now.
All she knew was the pulse of her heartbeat in the stiffness of her nipples, in the engorged bud of her clitoris and her hungry vagina. She was so wet she could feel her own juices dampening the silk of her thong and the rasp of the swollen folds of her pussy against the ultrasoft denim she wore.
His thumb caressed over hers, the faintly calloused flesh exciting sensitive nerve endings as Harmony fought to catch her breath.
"Is this your first time to Broken Butte?" His voice was quiet in the confines of the vehicle.
Harmony shifted in her seat, swallowing tightly as she frowned at the oddly sweet taste filling her mouth. She wanted his taste. The rich earthy essence of the wind and the land against her tongue.
"Yes." She breathed in deeply, closing her eyes briefly in an effort to maintain her control.
She had never been on such an edge. She didn't feel wholly herself, and that was damned scary. She had never been out of control. She processed information quickly and her decisions were ones she knew had merit.
This hunger had no merit, it made no sense. The completely illogical clawing need was throwing her mind and her body into havoc.
She had never given her status as a female much consideration, until now. Now she could feel the weakening arousal, the pulse of melting flesh between her thighs, a hunger to submit, to be possessed.
"Have you been here long?" His thumb drew circles at the side of her hand, caressing and massaging as she turned slowly to him.
She just needed one more taste. Her breathing was heavy, labored as he flicked on the turn signal and turned off the main road onto a graveled drive. It stretched ahead of them, never ending, and the wracking desire filling her senses was finding no relief.
"I haven't been here long," she whispered in reply, her gaze centering on his lips. "Kiss me again, Lance."
His grimace was tight, pained.
"If I kiss you again, I'm not going to make it to the house before I have you beneath me."
"I don't care." She really didn't care. All that mattered was that kiss, his touch. His hand tightened on hers briefly before he lifted her fingers and laid them back in her lap.
"We're almost at the house." His voice was as strained and tense as she felt. "Just another minute or two, sweetheart."
He shifted in his seat, obviously hoping to relieve the pressure of his jeans on his erection. She could smell his hunger wrapping around her.
Harmony closed her eyes, fighting to hold back, to wait, just a few more minutes. Her dazed senses were demanding, this strange, unknown arousal so imperative every inch of her flesh ached for his touch.
And she was on fire. She felt as though she were in the midst of a fever, flushed, so sensitive that the air inside the Jeep seemed too heavy to breathe.
"God, the look on your face." His voice was strained as the Jeep accelerated. "You're killing me here."
She opened her eyes, laying her head back on the headrest as she watched him through drowsy eyes.
"What do I look like?"
"Hungry," he whispered. "So aroused and hungry that you make me ache to see you sated."
Could she be sated?
"I want you now," she said softly. "And that terrifies me. A bit," she acknowledged with a wry smile.
Life had to mean something to you for you to fear the consequences of your actions. Her own life had never mattered much beyond fulfilling her responsibilities to others. Until now.
Living meant pleasure now. It meant his touch, his kiss, an adventure in sensation she had never imagined she would find.
"There's the house." He nodded ahead as the headlights picked up the faint outline of a single-story ranch. The sprawling design looked lazy and comfortable, the porch light bathing the front of the house in a gentle inviting glow.
Lance pulled the Jeep to a stop beside the cement walkway that led to the porch. Pulling the keys free of the ignition, he turned to his guest and watched her silently. Her pale green eyes stared back at him from drowsily lowered lids as the flush on her cheeks and the swollen curves of her lips attested to her arousal.
He was in agony himself. His cock was like a wedge of iron in his pants, hot and throbbing in need to bury itself inside her. His tongue ached to taste her. The taste of her just might well be addictive. He was tormented with the memory of it—the subtle sweetness, the hint of heat.
"Are you ready?"
She nodded back, her expression somber as he opened his door to step out of the vehicle. But he paused. Just one taste. They were close enough to the house. He could surely keep his control long enough to taste her one more time.