mean,” he said softly, all signs of amusement gone now.
Fire zipped straight from her lips to her breasts, making them tingle. Desire struck Jane hard, rendering her self-control totally inoperative. Her towel and shampoo fell unnoticed to the ground. Those perfect artist’s fingers traced her jaw, then slid lower to curl around her neck. His gaze holding hers captive, he pulled her closer, then leaned down to align his mouth with hers. Jane’s breath caught in expectation of his kiss. She prayed he wouldn’t be interrupted this time. His warm breath whispered across her lips.
“I’m going to kiss you, Jane,” he murmured before allowing the first, gentle brush of his lips. He cupped her face with both hands, paused two beats to give her time to protest, then settled his mouth firmly over hers, making good on his warning.
Too many sens ations to name bubbled up inside her.
She knew she should stop this. It wasn’t right. She knew better. But the feel of his lips against hers, his hands caressing her face so tenderly—she couldn’t bring anything that felt this wonderful to an end. She wanted more.
Hesitantly, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, she allowed herself to respond. Her palms molded to his broad chest. The feel of heat and rock-hard muscle made her quiver. His now familiar male scent filled her lungs. Her fingers fisted in the soft cotton of his T-shirt, drawing him closer. She wanted to feel his body against hers, to saturate her senses with Tom Caldwell.
His tongue traced the seam on her lips and Jane’s pulse raced. Tentatively, she opened for him. Tom filled her with his taste, hot and excited. A sound, her moan of approval, echoed between them. Her heart pounded with the dizzying emotions raging through her veins. Somehow his hands found their way to her hips. He lifted her against his full erection. She moaned again…felt her body moisten in anticipation.
Tom stilled.
His taunting mouth moved away from hers ever so slightly, but the feel of his uneven breath against her ultra-sensitive lips sent renewed desire rushing through her. She needed more. She wanted more. But he had stopped. She held on tightly and braced herself against the cry of protest that that swelled in her throat.
He pressed his forehead to hers and let go a mighty breath. “How am I supposed to just walk away after that?” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. Those magic fingers of his found their way back to the pounding pulse point at the base of her throat.
Sh e chewed her lower lip until it hurt, the pain jerking her back to reality. “We shouldn’t have done that. It was a mistake.”
He tensed. She felt the almost imperceptible change even before he straightened, moving slightly away from her.
“Look at me, Jane,” he commanded, his voice still soft despite the tension now radiating from him.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. His gaze was as uncertain as hers surely was.
“Now tell me it was a mistake.”
She ordered her fingers to relax their hold on his shirt and dropped her arms to her side. Reality hit her like a tidal wave. She flinched. “It was a mistake,” she forced herself to say, though her words lacked the conviction she knew she should feel. “In the Army we would call it—”
“I know what you would call it,” he said sharply.
Jane blinked at his curt reply. “I’m sorry,” she offered. She was a highly trained soldier. She had spent years training to react on instinct, not emotion. This shouldn’t have happened. It was her fault.
Tom plowed his fingers through his hair and released a shaky breath. He shook his head slowly from side to side. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I was out of line.” A half-hearted smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “It won’t happen again.”
He looked so sincere, yet so confused. She ached to put everything else aside and learn the pleasures of knowing this man fully. She produced a weak smile of her own, and pushed away
Fire zipped straight from her lips to her breasts, making them tingle. Desire struck Jane hard, rendering her self-control totally inoperative. Her towel and shampoo fell unnoticed to the ground. Those perfect artist’s fingers traced her jaw, then slid lower to curl around her neck. His gaze holding hers captive, he pulled her closer, then leaned down to align his mouth with hers. Jane’s breath caught in expectation of his kiss. She prayed he wouldn’t be interrupted this time. His warm breath whispered across her lips.
“I’m going to kiss you, Jane,” he murmured before allowing the first, gentle brush of his lips. He cupped her face with both hands, paused two beats to give her time to protest, then settled his mouth firmly over hers, making good on his warning.
Too many sens ations to name bubbled up inside her.
She knew she should stop this. It wasn’t right. She knew better. But the feel of his lips against hers, his hands caressing her face so tenderly—she couldn’t bring anything that felt this wonderful to an end. She wanted more.
Hesitantly, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, she allowed herself to respond. Her palms molded to his broad chest. The feel of heat and rock-hard muscle made her quiver. His now familiar male scent filled her lungs. Her fingers fisted in the soft cotton of his T-shirt, drawing him closer. She wanted to feel his body against hers, to saturate her senses with Tom Caldwell.
His tongue traced the seam on her lips and Jane’s pulse raced. Tentatively, she opened for him. Tom filled her with his taste, hot and excited. A sound, her moan of approval, echoed between them. Her heart pounded with the dizzying emotions raging through her veins. Somehow his hands found their way to her hips. He lifted her against his full erection. She moaned again…felt her body moisten in anticipation.
Tom stilled.
His taunting mouth moved away from hers ever so slightly, but the feel of his uneven breath against her ultra-sensitive lips sent renewed desire rushing through her. She needed more. She wanted more. But he had stopped. She held on tightly and braced herself against the cry of protest that that swelled in her throat.
He pressed his forehead to hers and let go a mighty breath. “How am I supposed to just walk away after that?” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. Those magic fingers of his found their way back to the pounding pulse point at the base of her throat.
Sh e chewed her lower lip until it hurt, the pain jerking her back to reality. “We shouldn’t have done that. It was a mistake.”
He tensed. She felt the almost imperceptible change even before he straightened, moving slightly away from her.
“Look at me, Jane,” he commanded, his voice still soft despite the tension now radiating from him.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked up at him. His gaze was as uncertain as hers surely was.
“Now tell me it was a mistake.”
She ordered her fingers to relax their hold on his shirt and dropped her arms to her side. Reality hit her like a tidal wave. She flinched. “It was a mistake,” she forced herself to say, though her words lacked the conviction she knew she should feel. “In the Army we would call it—”
“I know what you would call it,” he said sharply.
Jane blinked at his curt reply. “I’m sorry,” she offered. She was a highly trained soldier. She had spent years training to react on instinct, not emotion. This shouldn’t have happened. It was her fault.
Tom plowed his fingers through his hair and released a shaky breath. He shook his head slowly from side to side. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry. I was out of line.” A half-hearted smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “It won’t happen again.”
He looked so sincere, yet so confused. She ached to put everything else aside and learn the pleasures of knowing this man fully. She produced a weak smile of her own, and pushed away
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