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She drew in a deep breath, her nostrils flaring, when he dragged his teeth over her bottom lip. The scent of bergamot reminded her of the leather bomber jacket she had seen on his barstool. She imagined wearing it now with nothing. Just her skin and the cool leather and Cass’ skin.
His breath smelled like whiskey, a scent Marlowe was familiar with and yet it was so new here tonight, on this beautiful stranger. She craved his kiss now to taste him, to sample Lockland and Wilderness Trail from his lips, his tongue.
She parted her lips, and finally, finally, Cass swept his tongue over her mouth. Marlowe dug her fingers deeper into his shoulders, that spark of anticipation burning in her knees now. Making her weak.
Swoon.
This beautiful man was making her swoon.
She smiled but quickly lost herself again, her lips parted under his. He stroked her tongue with his, first with depth and drama and then playfully. When he retreated, Marlowe nipped at him and then rubbed her tongue over the spots her teeth had captured.
He pulled away, tipped his head back to study her face. She fought the frantic need to throw herself at him, to wrap her legs around his waist and hold on. One kiss. Three songs. How many minutes had she lost to that one kiss?
How long would she ache for the next one?
What would she do tomorrow when she woke up without him? And if it wasn’t tomorrow, it would be the next day. Cass—she didn’t even know his last name—was only visiting. A Bourbon Trail tourist hanging out with his buddies. And yet, for the last several moments, Marlowe had believed she was kissing the love of her life, her soulmate.
“I have never been so mesmerized by anyone.” His voice was still small and gruff, like it pained him to speak.
Marlowe quirked an eyebrow at him. “I thought the same thing earlier tonight when you were with your friends.”
8
Cass
“I don’t do this,” he said apologetically. Marlowe sighed softly and rested her cheek against his.
“You’re leaving.”
“Sunday.” He slid his arms around her and held her close. “I wish I could stay.”
“Me too.”
“Can I tell you something?”
Marlowe drew back to look him in the eye and nodded.
“I don’t do one-night stands.” He dragged his hands up over her sides, the curves of her breasts so tempting again. “I think they’re cheap. I think human connection should be worth more. You deserve more than that. And I do, too.”
A smile played at her lips. Cass wanted to kiss her again.
“No one has ever said anything like that to me in my life.”
“That’s just wrong,” he said quietly.
“It’s okay.” She shrugged, that smile finally taking control of her lips. “I do okay here in this little life.”
“You do.” He nodded. “I see that. It’s part of what attracted me to you.”
“Do you think you’ll ever come back to the Bourbon Trail?”
“Yes.”
“You said you’re not that into bourbon,” she reminded him.
Cass shook his head. “Still not. But I would like to come back for you.”
“Like you would come back, what? Every six months? And kiss me until I see stars? And then leave again?”
