Page 17 of Untamed Heart
He stilled for a moment, surprised, but as I pulled back, locked into his gaze, it was him that leant into me instead, his other hand working into my hair as he kissed me right back. His lips were soft, but the need was hard.
Even through the whiskey, the jet lag – the swirling emotional mess of the past couple of days – I felt something I knew I’d never felt before. This man,God, this man, was like a flame on the edge of a taper, the edges black and smouldering as the fire caught hold. It grew, flaring brighter until it roared through me.
My fingers fisted his shirt and pulled him in closer still as I leant back and let myself become crushed between his body and the cold wall behind. The feeling dragged me under, both of our breathing between the kisses becoming ragged, a necessary frustration in the frenzy. His hand brushed the skin in the gap between my top and jeans, his fingers resting there briefly before inching upwards, grazing the band of my bra, my hand almost reaching to unhook it myself. His skin against mine had fire breaking out on the surface, just as it raged inside.
It was as though he was a fever, invading every cell in my body. My body reacted; goosebumps formed and I shivered.
‘Cold?’ he murmured, letting up for a moment, both of us trying to catch our breath.
I shook my head. ‘Not that kind of shiver.’
He dipped his head, the most heart-achingly beautiful smile crossing his face.
I groaned, resting my head against the wall and shutting my eyes.
‘I can’t believe I’m saying this but I think I need to go.’
With my eyes still closed, I felt his lips brush my ear, his hand now fully on the bare skin of my waist.
‘Maybe you should – we’ve both had a lot to drink . . .’ he began, and although we were still standing in the restroom corridor for all to see, the fire roared in my ears and instead, I just . . . let go.
This time the kiss was fierce, surprise in his response at first, then it deepened. His mouth eventually left mine and travelled down my neck, his tongue leaving a trail of sparks across my skin. My hands reached his belt, pulling us together, evidence of his own feelings as rock hard as his abs, pressing against my thigh. I had never wanted anyone like this, not even in my wildest, romance-book-reading mind.
The door opened, music flooding the corridor and wrenching us apart.
The guy who’d opened it immediately veered away with a wry smile, tipping his hat to . . .
‘Wait, I don’t even know your name?’ I said, pressing my fingers to my lips, now tingling from the force he’d applied.
He laughed, still holding my waist.
‘I’m Cole. And you are?’
‘Lottie. Nice to meet you.’
His smile was kind, but his eyes burnt with the need I’d just felt in his jeans.
‘So, what’s a British girl doing in a cowboy bar?’ he asked, sudden curiosity taking over, his hand shifting off my skin.
I sighed. The moment was over. Time to escape the questions.
‘Long story. I better go.’
He hesitated, then nodded, shifting aside to open the door for me.
We crossed the bar and made it outside, the chill night air forcing me to hug myself tightly.
‘I’ll walk you home,’ he said, holding up his hands at my arched eyebrow. ‘Believe it or not, I was raised to be a gentleman.’
I laughed and he gave a sheepish smile, half hidden as he looked down, the brim of his hat concealing his face.
‘I’m at the motel,’ I replied, pointing down the street. ‘It’s just one crossing and a short walk. I think I can make it.’
‘If you’re sure.’
Nodding, I hesitated, wanting to kiss him again but not trusting myself. He seemed to be having a similar battle, his body turned towards me but his hands rammed in his pockets as though he felt the same.
‘Night, cowboy,’ I said as the crosswalk turned green, the frigid air somehow sobering me up enough to turn without wobbling and walk across the road.
