Page 95 of Bone’s Choice

I shook my head. “No.”

His brow furrowed.

I almost laughed. “That came out wrong.”

His mouth twitched.

“I mean, I don’t want you to stop.” That was clearly all he needed.

Bone kissed me. There was nothing hesitant about it.

His mouth came down on mine, and I grabbed the front of his shirt. Bone’s arm locked around my waist and hauled me tighter against him.

His other hand slid into my hair and I opened for him. His tongue swept against mine, and a sound escaped me before I could stop it.

Bone answered with a rough groan that I felt as much as heard.

Jesus.

I’d wondered more than once what kissing Bone would be like. My imagination hadn’t come close.

His beard scraped against my skin as he changed the angle of his mouth. My fingers curled tighter into his shirt, and I pushed up onto my toes because apparently being plastered against him wasn’t close enough.

His hand tightened in my hair and the kiss deepened. I curled my fingers harder into his shirt, barely noticing the motorcycle cooling behind us or how quiet the road had become. And the very obvious evidence that I wasn’t the only one getting worked up.

We finally broke apart. Barely.

His forehead rested against mine and both of us were breathing hard. “Still want me inside?” he asked.

I stared at him. “That is a very stupid question.”

He grinned. “Keys.”

“Right.” I dug into my purse and my hands were shaking. I found the keys and hurried toward the porch.

Bone followed.

I reached the door and attempted to put the key into the lock.

Missed.

“Shit.”

Bone moved in behind me and his hands landed on my hips.

I missed again.

“You’re not helping,” I muttered.

“Not trying to.”

His mouth touched the side of my neck.

I sucked in a breath. “Bone.”

“Door, Hazel.”

“I’m trying.”