Killian (The Sons of Dusty Walker Book 3) by Desiree Holt Page A

him, making no move to open her door.
    Say something , he told himself. Don’t stand there like a big jackass .
    “Uh, Killian?”
    He kick-started his brain. “Yes?”
    “Would you, uh, like to come in?” She licked her lip again. “Inside?”
    Holy shit! She had opened the gates of heaven for him.
    Don’t jump her bones the minute the door is closed. Try to restrain yourself. Make her feel special.
    Because she was. She most definitely was.
    He managed to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “Yes, Lexie. I’d like to very much.”
    When she placed the key in the lock and turned it, her hands were trembling slightly. He hoped it was caused by anticipation and not a sudden attack of nerves. He was nervous enough for both of them, a completely unfamiliar state of affairs. He was always confident and self-assured with women. He prided himself on knowing how to please a woman and satisfy her, to always put her needs first. Tonight, his confidence and skill would be more important than ever before, yet here he was, shaking in his boots like a horny teenager.
    He waited while Lexie put her key and her purse on the little table by the door, wondering how to make his first move. He didn’t have to wonder long. She turned to him, did the little thing with her tongue on her lip that made him hard as rocks, and stepped right into him. With a flip of her hand, she swept his Stetson off his head and placed it on the table beside her things. Then she stepped up close to him.
    “Got any more of those hot kisses, cowboy?” Her voice had a tiny quaver in it, and he was glad to realize she was as nervous as he was. As if they both sensed they were on the verge of something more important than casual sex.
    “As many as you want,” he told her, his voice low and raspy. Then his conscience stuck a pin in him. “Lexie, I need to tell you I don’t expect to be moving to Red Creek. When my week is over, except for the wrap-up—”
    “Ssh.” She touched his mouth with the tips of her fingers. “I know. And you should know I don’t usually jump into things like this. But Killian? I want to enjoy this—us—while you’re here. If that’s not—”
    “It’s what I want,” he interrupted her. “I don’t want you to think—”
    “I’m not thinking.” She gave him a smile, half-shy, half-vixen. “I’m just waiting for more of those kisses.”
    He banded one arm around her, pulling her tight to his body, and thrust the fingers of one hand through her thick curls. Cupping her head, he tilted it back enough to take her lips in a slow, smooth kiss. They were as soft as he remembered, delicious with the taste of strawberry gloss. He licked the seam, teased at the corners until she opened for him then swept his tongue inside. He tangled with her small tongue, coaxing it into an erotic dance setting every nerve in his body on fire.
    A tiny moan vibrated through him, and he realized it was Lexie making the sound. He deepened the kiss, sliding his hand up and down her back, drawing her more tightly against him. Her breasts were soft mounds pressing into his chest, making his nipples harden beneath his shirt. He lifted his head, breathing hard, and saw in her eyes a hunger to match his own.
    Taking a step back, he trailed kisses down the line of her jaw and the slender column of her neck before reaching for the buttons on her blouse. One by one, he popped them through the tiny buttonholes, peeling the silk of her blouse away an inch at a time. Lexie stood immobile while he slid the sleeves down her arms and pulled the garment away.
    Holy shit!
    She was a living wet dream, right in front of him. The swell of her breasts rose above the lace-edged cups of the low-cut bra, and the sheer fabric did little to conceal the darkness of her nipples. Unable to restrain himself, he cupped one luscious mound, lowered his head, and pulled the taut bud into his mouth, fabric and all. She gave her sensual little moan again and arched