STORY EXCERPT

Paige turned to Sara. “I’ll go up the middle. You take the first aisle.” Paige pulled her into a quick hug. “Thank you so much for helping me.”

Sara stared, shocked at her friend’s uncharacteristic show of affection as Paige walked away, quickly disappearing into the crowd of rednecks, cowboys, and hunters. If this event was taking place in the woods, most of the participants would be invisible, since they were wearing various versions of camouflage.

Hitching her bag higher on her shoulder and tucking it against her body, Sara waded into the crowd. Most of the booths on the first aisle contained crates of ammunition, so she picked up her pace. The sooner they located the right booth, the sooner she could get out of this nightmare. Ever since that Christmas shopping trip when she was ten and got separated from her mother, Sara avoided places like this. Places where bodies brushed against each other simply by walking in different directions. Too many people in one enclosed area gave her the willies.

She rounded a corner, barely avoiding a family of pink and green camo—Really? Pink and green camo?—and found herself against a brick wall.

Wait.

A breathing brick wall.

She raised her eyes, looked past the shiny silver belt buckle, and moved up to the taut black shirt covering an amazing six-pack of abs. Nice chest. Wide shoulders.

Finally seeing the face, Sara jerked back.

Too late.

Strong arms wrapped around her before she could run.

“Hello, Sara.”

“Let me go, Kale.” Why had all the air disappeared from her lungs?

She squirmed, but there wasn’t enough room between their bodies to maneuver. “Let me go, you son of a bitch.”

“Sara, please. There are kids here. I just want to talk to you.”

Finally getting an arm between them, Sara found enough space to take a deep breath. “Well, that makes one of us. And I don’t want to listen.”

“Honey—”

“Don’t call me that.” Where in the hell were Paige and Emma when she needed them?

Kale kept one arm around her and used his free hand to lift her chin, forcing her to look at him, and Sara punched him in the gut, furious at his control of her.

Useless, since her hand was stinging and he wasn’t reacting at all.

“I’ve been trying to reach you for the last week. You won’t answer my calls. Or my texts. Or my e-mails. You’ve avoided me at every turn, but I refuse to give up.”

Why did his voice cause such havoc in her brain? Three years of heartache should have prepared her for this meeting. Not so. The rich tones, the soft Texas accent—all country-boy gentlemen—were wearing her down.

With a quick shove, she slipped out of his grasp and took off down the next aisle. Where in the hell were Paige and Emma? Her bag slapped against her hip then slid off her shoulder and began to swing as she dodged through the crowd. Rounding a corner, Sara bounced off a couple of oversized, overindulged hunter-types and spun back the way she’d come. With no idea which direction she was moving, she tripped over a display and felt her momentum leading her body astray. She was falling face first into the crowd.

Sara collided with a warm, solid body on her way to the floor. But the floor never arrived. Instead, she found herself sprawled on top of someone.

A man.

A solid, well-defined specimen of a man, who cupped the back of her head to hold her close.

She looked into gray-green eyes. At one time, she’d thought they were the warmest, kindest eyes she’d ever looked into, and she’d planned to look into them for the rest of her life.

But he’d screwed that up royally.

The hand on the back of her head tightened, pulled her closer, and Sara couldn’t focus on anything but his proximity. She couldn’t breathe, but she could clearly feel. Every ridge of his body, every inch of hers, was connected. His lips met hers in a searing kiss, melting her resistance during that moment in time. God, she’d missed the feel of his mouth on hers.

A high-pitched whistle and a catcall or three bounced around the crowd.

Reality flooded in, reminding her of the past.

She scrambled off him, moving fast enough to avoid his hands. Sara grabbed her purse and looked for an escape route.

“Help me out, fellas. Don’t let her leave,” Kale asked the crowd.

Before she got too far, the grinning men surrounded Sara. She spun and checked every angle while fishing her phone out of her bag. Speed dial to Paige and Emma went to voice mail both times she tried. Damn it, she was stranded at this damned gun show, all alone in a sea of camouflage. By the time the texted reply arrived, Kale was right beside her.

Sorry. This is for your own good. Please don’t hate us.

ADULT EXCERPT

She started at the top of her blouse, slipping each button free in her own sweet time, until the shirt fell open. Her fair skin shone in the waning light coming through the window, forcing air to stagnate in his chest. Damn, she was beautiful. Sara slipped the sleeves down her arms and left the blouse in a puddle on the bed.

But she left the bra on, every cherry-red inch of it, while she toed off her shoes. When she reached for the zipper of her jeans, Kale sucked in a painfully inadequate amount of air and waited to see if the bra came with matching panties or, Lord have mercy, a burning-hot thong.

He had no doubt she was watching him sweat, since she took forever and a day to lower the zipper. Before he could see the panties, Sara slid off the end of the bed and turned away from him, giving Kale a teaser of a show. When the jeans finally eased down her hips, he hissed.

The satiny red fabric barely covered her ass, and Kale fought the urge to lay his cheek along the curve of hers. Instead, he turned her to him and nudged her to the bed.

Kneeling at her feet, he tucked his fingers into the waistband of her jeans, his knuckles brushing down smooth, feather-soft skin from her hips to her heels. Kale tossed the pants behind him and traced back up her leg with his fingers and his tongue.

“Damn, woman. You’re giving me a heart attack.” Kale covered her mound with his palm, letting the heat of her soak into his skin. But the contact wasn’t enough. His mouth took the place of his hand, and Sara flinched, cried out with what he hoped was pleasure.

“Let’s get rid of these. Hot as they are, I’ve got to have what’s underneath.” He made quick work of freeing her from the panties, taking care to keep them in one piece even though ripping them off was appealing.

Maybe next time.

Sara sat up as the red undies hit the floor. “Too fast, Kale.” She rubbed her hand across her face and into her hair.

Face flushed, her eyes beginning to glaze, her words were at right angles to the signals her body was putting out. But he stopped. He would not take advantage. She deserved better than being manipulated.

“You set the pace, Sara. Tell me what you want, honey.”

“Kiss me?” She was trembling, aroused and unsure, hesitation in her eyes. Kale didn’t want to touch her until she made a decision. Until she invited him.

“Where, Sara. Where do you want me to kiss you?” Her expression was killing him, and mind-numbing lust was working its way along every inch of his body.

Sara’s hand lifted, took his, and brought it to her mouth for a soft kiss. She exhaled across his wet skin and lowered her lids when he groaned.

“Honey, you’ve got to help me. I’m dying here. Tell me what you want.”

When she didn’t respond, he cuddled her face in his hands and laid his lips on her soft mouth. She opened for him immediately and he drove deep, tasting, exploring until he retreated from lack of oxygen. Looking for her reaction, Kale was bowled over. Trust and lust were the only emotions in her expression.

“Kiss me, Kale, kiss me everywhere.”

He started with her mouth, cherishing her trust, then nibbled on her bottom lip, her chin, and sucked gently at the base of her throat until he couldn’t wait any longer. Reaching behind her, he released the catch of her killer bra and eased the straps down her arms. A flick of his wrist sent it to join the other clothes in the pile.

Her breasts were calling. And he was sweating with anticipation. Kale cupped them in his hands, felt their weight and the tight prodding of the nipples. He had to taste them.

One lick.

Another.

A repeat for the other breast.

Sara’s moans and sighs were like music to him. A siren call. She was reeling him in without even trying. He wrapped his lips around one of the dark-pink buds and suckled, feeling her body respond.

Sara began to sag, her body going limp from the onslaught of his voracious mouth, and Kale slid an arm around her torso to support her. Slowly, he lowered her to the bed and licked his way down the slight swell of her belly, spending a few minutes worshiping each little indentation, kissing the smattering of freckles he found. His fingers wandered through her soft curls, parting them in anticipation of his favorite treat.

Separating the lips of her pussy, Kale licked up the wet slit, taking in the taste of her. Sweet, creamy syrup coated her lips and his. Sara’s hips moved, lifted to him as if begging for more, and he gave her what she needed. He explored until he found just the right spot then carefully scraped his teeth against that ultrasensitive bundle of nerves.

He could feel, and taste, how close she was, and he wanted her climaxing over and over, until she couldn’t think of anything or anyone but him. He wanted her to crave him and the pleasure he could give her.