knees digging into the seat on either side of him. He ran his palm up the back of her neck, held her head still while he fully explored her mouth with masterful strokes.
She made a soft mewling sound and sank into him, letting go of all resistance.
His other hand tunneled between them, reaching up under the hem of her T-shirt. His knuckles skimmed her bare skin. His fingers tickled their way up. She’d slipped out of her bra before going to sleep, so there was nothing between him and her.
She shivered against him. This was exciting. She hadn’t made out in a car since she was a teenager.
“Hmm.” The vibration of his sound hummed against her lips.
He pushed up her shirt and slowly peeled it over her head, exposing her to the air. Then he commenced blazing a moist, deliberate trail from her lips to her throat and beyond. He cupped her breasts, weighing them in his palms. He teased one nipple with his mouth, the other with his fingers.
She squirmed, her body alive with sensation. Eager to trace the muscles, she splayed her hands under his shirt and pulled another groan from his lips when her fingers made contact with his flat belly.
Their mouths met again in a fierce clash, hungry, desperate. The same frantic way they’d kissed that first time in the Nebraska cornfield. Had it only been last night? It seemed a lifetime ago.
Through the material of his pants, she could feel him growing rock solid between her legs. Everywhere he touched her turned to liquid fire—her lips, her skin, until she was completely unbalanced. She felt as if she were falling—through time, through space, through sensation after sensation.
He sucked her nipple, his hands wrapped securely around her waist, holding her in place, keeping her steady. Balanced. He brought equilibrium into her life.
She threw back her head, arched her spine, ground herself against him until he groaned aloud.
They were lost. Carried away on lust and the sexual tension that had been mounting between them for months. Tara was ready and beside herself with desire for him.
Boone’s impatient fingers plucked at the snap of her white denim shorts. She had no idea how this was going to work in the front passenger seat of her Honda, especially with him in a leg brace, but she was game to figure out the logistics. She tackled his zipper with the same gusto he went at hers.
She ached for him. Deep down. Hard and helpless. A pristine pain so sharp and pure it felt as if it could never be sated. It terrified her. This contradiction of what she wanted and what she knew was good for her. But she could not seem to swim upstream against the sexual force pushing her to merge with this man. She did not really want to resist. Not in her heart.
His hand slipped past her waistband, moved aside the skimpy material of her panties, his fingers unerringly finding her trigger. Passion seized her body, moved through her in escalating waves. She grasped both his shoulders, holding herself aloft over him while he explored her tender feminine folds.
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