Never the Twain
East Meets West in a Sensual Contest Where Love is the Prize.
eBook ISBN 978-1-60174-028-1
"... a story sure to keep the reader smiling as you read about these two headstrong characters as they fight their attraction to each other while fighting to maintain their own needs. 4 Blue Ribbons!"--Chrissy Dionne, Romance Junkies
The farther he withdrew, the harder she tried to pull him close.
So she flirted.
God help her, Genille Enderby Forsythe flirted! She batted her big brown eyes and pursed her pink little mouth. She waggled her bottom at him in a shameless manner. She even contrived to brush her breasts against his elbow as they walked.
Despite generations of New England restraint bred in her bones, Genny behaved worse than the most brazen hussy in a Nineteenth Century dance hall. She removed her shirt, ignoring the goosebumps as the still chilly May breeze hit her bare arms. And she hoped he noticed the effect that same breeze had on her nipples, not at all concealed under the light knit tank top.
His glare grew as hot as it had been cold an instant before. Before she knew it, Genny was captured in the vise of his arms, wedged between unyielding barn siding and an equally hard body.
One hand caught her chin, forcing it up, while the other cupped her bottom in the most outrageous...the most lascivious...the most...
His mouth slanted over hers and his tongue demanded entrance. Genny met him with equal desire, pulling him within her mouth until her lips felt bruised against the sharpness of his teeth. Eyes open, she watched his face darken, shared the contagion of his desire.
He tasted of coffee; he smelled of sagebrush. The two blended and mingled, filling her mouth and her nostrils with his essence. Probing, sipping, gulping, and seeking, his tongue explored her mouth while his hands roamed over her body. Fleeting pressures on her buttocks, on the sides of her breasts, on shoulder blades and spine left a trail of heat that spread inward until her whole body ignited spontaneously.
"Soft. So soft, like silk," he murmured against her mouth. "I've wanted my hands on you ever since..."
She ground her hips against his and felt the strength of his arousal against her hypersensitive belly. His thighs were hard against hers, his chest a wall of muscle and bone crushing her breasts in welcome, exquisite agony.
Genny tugged at his shirt where it tucked into his Levi's, pulling it free so her hands could touch his naked back. Not satisfied, she pushed her fingers under the belt sitting low and tight against his hips, seeking the rounded strength of his buttocks, even as she felt his fingers fumbling at her bra clasp.
"Let me—" she heard herself say, not sure what she wanted of him, but knowing she wanted...wanted....