Stop The Wedding!: Night Driving / Smooth Sailing / Crash Landing. Lori WildeЧитать онлайн книгу.
the night.
She succumbed. There was no excuse for it. She wasn’t proud of herself, taking advantage of a man who might very well be sleep-kissing, but she was helpless to resist.
Dumb. Dumb. She knew it was dumb. Even if he were fully awake and in charge of everything he was doing, she should not be doing this. Because she was in danger of losing her heart to this man whom she would never see again after Saturday and if she made love to him, she feared it would seal her fate.
Whoa. Make love? You’re just kissing the dude.
Yes, but she wanted to do so much more with him. Had wanted it for months. Her pulse pounded. She leaned forward, leaned into the kiss when she should be pulling away from it.
His mouth moved from her lips to kiss the underside of her jaw, turning her into liquid pools of pure heat. A soft moan slipped from her lips.
Stop it. Snap out of it.
Sounded good, but she so didn’t want to. Reluctantly gathering what little sense she had left, Tara twisted away from him. “Boone, wake up.”
“I’m wide-awake, sweetheart,” he said, moving in to feather his tongue along the outside of her ear. “You taste delicious.”
Sweetheart.
He called her sweetheart. Now she knew he had to still be asleep. Sleepy Boone might be all lovey-dovey, but Awake Boone would never call her sweetheart. He thought she was annoyingly cheerful. She got on his last nerve. Hadn’t he told her that on more than one occasion? And yet, and yet…hadn’t something been changing between them these last few days?
Her stomach fluttered and her fingers tangled up in his soft, shaggy hair. So easy. It would be so easy to just give in and let nature take its course. She’d been doing it all her adult life. Which was the problem. She always let life’s currents carry her without much thought for the future, and so far that hadn’t been such a bad thing. But she was older now and, well, she was ready for something more permanent.
Huh? When had that happened?
Probably the day she’d learned about her mother’s illness. Even though her mom had an excellent chance for recovery, something like this made a girl reevaluate her life. Made her realize what really mattered.
Family.
A husband. Kids.
Struck by the revelation, she unthreaded her fingers from his hair. She hadn’t even realized she was finally ready for a long-term relationship. Too bad her body ached for this short-term guy.
“Down, boy,” she said, her light-hearted tone belying the crazy gallop of her thoughts. Determined to stop herself from making a big mistake, she planted both palms against his chest and immediately got snared in his dark-eyed gaze.
He searched her face and she could see he really was wide-awake. A long minute ticked between them with nothing but the sound of their heavy breathing to break the silence.
“Please…” she croaked, the word a helpless plea for him to override her objections and just kiss her again anyway.
Slowly, Boone nodded, dropped his arms and settled back into the seat.
“You were having a nightmare,” she ventured.
“Yeah. I used to have them all the time in the hospital. Sorry you had to see that.”
“I’m not. I’m glad.”
“That I’m a monumental wreck?”
“That you’re human.”
He cracked a wry smile. “You had doubts?”
“C’mon. You’re intimidating. Decorated war hero.”
He shook his head. “It’s not like you think.”
“That’s what I want to understand.”
“War really is hell.”
“Then why did you do it?”
“Somebody has to.”
“You feel it’s your place to clean up the world’s ills?”
“Once upon a time I thought that,” he said, his voice filled with regret. “But I’m older and wiser now.”
She leaned over the console between them, having no real plan. She should have turned on her side in the seat, back to him and tried to sleep, but she did not. Instead, she hovered over him, almost daring him to do something about it.
Why?
The question got lost in the soft growl that escaped him as he sat up to claim her lips once more. The pressure of his diligent mouth absconded with her will, left her elated and giddy. His generous tongue eclipsed any lingering protests. Treacherously, she relished him, betraying what she knew was right.
Oh, Tara, you’re so easy.
He tugged her over the console and arranged her on top of him. She straddled his waist, knees digging into the seat on either side of him. He ran his palm up the back of her neck, held her head still while he fully explored her mouth with masterful strokes.
She made a soft mewling sound and sank into him, letting go of all resistance.
His other hand tunneled between them, reaching up under the hem of her T-shirt. His knuckles skimmed her bare skin. His fingers tickled their way up. She’d slipped out of her bra before going to sleep, so there was nothing between him and her.
She shivered against him. This was exciting. She hadn’t made out in a car since she was a teenager.
“Hmm.” The vibration of his sound hummed against her lips.
He pushed up her shirt and slowly peeled it over her head, exposing her to the air. Then he commenced blazing a moist, deliberate trail from her lips to her throat and beyond. He cupped her breasts, weighing them in his palms. He teased one nipple with his mouth, the other with his fingers.
She squirmed, her body alive with sensation. Eager to trace the muscles, she splayed her hands under his shirt and pulled another groan from his lips when her fingers made contact with his flat belly.
Their mouths met again in a fierce clash, hungry, desperate. The same frantic way they’d kissed that first time in the Nebraska cornfield. Had it only been last night? It seemed a lifetime ago.
Through the material of his pants, she could feel him growing rock solid between her legs. Everywhere he touched her turned to liquid fire—her lips, her skin, until she was completely unbalanced. She felt as if she were falling—through time, through space, through sensation after sensation.
He sucked her nipple, his hands wrapped securely around her waist, holding her in place, keeping her steady. Balanced. He brought equilibrium into her life.
She threw back her head, arched her spine, ground herself against him until he groaned aloud.
They were lost. Carried away on lust and the sexual tension that had been mounting between them for months. Tara was ready and beside herself with desire for him.
Boone’s impatient fingers plucked at the snap of her white denim shorts. She had no idea how this was going to work in the front passenger seat of her Honda, especially with him in a leg brace, but she was game to figure out the logistics. She tackled his zipper with the same gusto he went at hers.
She ached for him. Deep down. Hard and helpless. A pristine pain so sharp and pure it felt as if it could never be sated. It terrified her. This contradiction of what she wanted and what she knew was good for her. But she could not seem to swim upstream against the sexual force pushing her to merge with this man. She did not really want to resist. Not in her heart.
His hand slipped past her waistband, moved aside the skimpy material of her panties, his fingers unerringly finding her trigger. Passion seized her body, moved through her in escalating waves. She grasped both his shoulders,