trust her instincts.
She clung to him as he taught her the intricacies of kissing, the rhythm, akin to dancing or fencing, a series of parries and thrusts. A charged current leapt between them like electricity dancing between two magnets. She knew she ought to push him away, but she couldn't. Her body answered only to this intense attraction.
He broke the kiss, gasping. Had he forgotten to breathe, as well? Her mind reeled from a lack of oxygen. Before she regained her wits, he trailed soft kisses across her cheek, whispering words she didn’t understand. Whatever the meaning, she sensed he was praising her.
Sunlight danced in the leaves above her head and the creek sang near her feet. It was all part of the magic spell he wove, and she didn’t want it to end. She let her head drop back as his lips burned down her neck. His touch awakened every nerve, stirring her from what seemed to have been an eternal sleep. Waiting…waiting…for the kiss that would bring her to life.
He captured her face in his hands, covering her mouth with his as he pressed her down onto the soft grass. The blades felt cool in comparison to her fevered skin. She drank his kisses, intoxicating as her father’s best brandy. Just a taste made her insides melt and sent warmth rushing through her veins.
Sliding her fingers through his hair, she brought him closer. He stretched out on top of her with a groan. She ought to be scared witless, yet she felt strangely in control. He’d succumbed to her, not the other way around. Her breathing quickened as she ran her hands over his shirt, feeling the play of muscles in his shoulders and back. He was made so different from her, and yet they seemed perfectly fitted.
"Redbird," he murmured.
Kate’s heart preened at the moniker, which conjured the image of a fiery-haired goddess. She loved the way he said it in his southwestern drawl tinged with a hint of foreignness.
He cupped her breast and gently squeezed. Not for the first time was she glad she eschewed corsets. Only her shirt and camisole stood between them, although even that seemed like two layers too many. His thumb found her nipple and he caressed it until it stiffened.
She arched her back as tendrils of pure pleasure snaked through her. How could something so wicked feel so good?
He continued to stroke and play with her breasts until she was gasping for air. Never had she given a man the kind of liberties she was giving him. But then, no man had given her this kind of pleasure. Some part of her—the irrational, rebellious part—wanted to experience it. His fingers went to the buttons on her shirt. Now he’d undress her, then she would feel his hands on her bare skin, feel his kisses…
Yearning became an insistent ache. Desire swelled like waves whipped up by a strong wind, tossing her to and fro. Her whole body shook with uncontrollable tremors.
Passion. It was exhilarating. Overpowering. Terrifying.
What had made her think she could bend such a powerful force to her will? If she didn’t stop him, she was in danger of being swept out to sea.
Desperate, she grabbed for his gun.
###
Jake reacted instinctively. He clamped his hand over hers the same moment she wrapped her fingers around the handle of his revolver. Surprise swept away the sensual haze. By Thunder, she'd almost done it again, not with a rock this time, but with his gun.
Furious, he wrenched her fingers off the weapon, pinned her hands to the ground, and brought his face to within an inch of hers. "Is this how you get what you want?" he snarled.
Her eyes grew round, the black centers crowding out the blue like storm clouds covering the sky. She looked as horrified as poor Redbird of the legend must’ve been when that poisonous snake showed up at her door.
Jake released her and jerked to his knees, muttering. Crazy . He had to be. That was the only explanation for why he'd confuse desperate sex with desire. He’d never wanted a woman like he wanted this
Learning to Kill: Stories