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There are no words.
Kissing West was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Just calling it a kiss feels like a disgrace.
His rough heat, the demon nip of his teeth, the way he growled into my mouth...
Holy hell.
I felt the warmth, the intensity, the electric desire clear to my toes.
I’m still feeling it now like honey and vinegar invading my veins, threatening to ruin my dating life forever. I can’t imagine any of the smart, cautious, and entirely too timid boys back in D.C. kissing like a freight train running me down.
You don’t find men who use their mouths like that in the capital.
Honestly, I can’t imagine anyone else feeling like a force of nature against my tongue, lashing me with lightning, and leaving me achingly drenched in the wake of a smooch that brushed my soul.
Don’t get me wrong; I’m not some pathetic virgin.
After West left for the Army and I left Dallas, I dated. I had a couple college boyfriends, but none of their game affected me anywhere close to the way his did this morning.
What would have happened if we hadn’t stopped? If that kiss was a marvelous prelude to his calloused hands snapping at my clothes, unwrapping me, pushing my thighs apart to sink down so deliciously on his throbbing—
“We need to stop at the hardware store first,” Weston says, ripping me from my thoughts. “They were closed yesterday.”
When I exhale, I’m shaking, hoping to God Almighty he doesn’t notice.
“That’s Dallas for you, huh?” I whisper back. “Everything’s either closing early or closed all day.”
He gives back a knowing smirk.
There are no big box stores that are open twenty-four hours a day here, and online orders take twice as long to show up. I don’t mind that when less stress and a more laid-back life is the tradeoff.
Never have.
“Are you changing all the locks?” I ask, studying his profile against the window. His face is chiseled enough to cut granite.
“Yep, and I want to check the windows. We’ll see if I need to add security there, too. I’m not risking any repeat prowlers.”
Content, I lean back against the seat and sigh.
“I’ve always loved her house. It’s peak Dallas, this beautiful century-old homestead that’s been through everything with this town from the pioneer days to the oil boom. Always thought it would make a wonderful museum.”
“You ever been upstairs?”
“Hmm, I don’t think so...why?”
He looks at me for a moment, frowning. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?” I blink at him.
“Aunt Faye’s house was the town’s clinic back around World War I,” he says.
My inner nerd does jumping jacks.
“What? No way!”
“Yes way.”
“Weston McKnight, you’d best not be kidding.” Shocked, I ask, “Why didn’t I ever know?”
