Page 32 of Native Hawk
It was the most unschooled kiss he’d ever received. Her lips were clamped shut and unmoving. Her eyes were wide open. And since she wasn’t sure where to put her nose, it was mashed up against his.
But for some crazy reason, it still made the breath catch in his lungs and the blood rush to his loins.
He couldn’t help himself. It was a simple case of action and reaction. Besides, it was only natural to try to fix what she was doing wrong.
So he tipped his head and used his mouth to coax hers open. He nipped gently at her lips, softening the contact, and she sighed against him. The desire behind that sigh was more intoxicating than the whiskey on her breath.
Her hands wandered up his chest, past his neck, to tangle in his hair.
He licked lightly at her mouth, then cradled her head in his hands and deepened the kiss. He let his tongue delve tenderly between her lips, feeling a shiver of lust go through her when her tongue made contact.
He intended to stop then. He’d given her the kiss she wanted. And though he was as randy as a spring bull, he knew when to call it quits.
But that was before the tempting little daughter of Eve tried to climb all over him. She rolled him onto his back and slung her leg over him, right where she shouldn’t. Still covering his mouth with eager kisses, she settled her weight on him, and he groaned at the exquisite sensation for a full two seconds before reason intervened.
“All right,” he bit out, forcing her off of him and clambering out of the bed. “That’s enough o’ that.”
He spared her one glance. Just as he expected, she looked shocked and bereft. But it couldn’t be helped. He was doing this for her own good.
He faced away from her so he could make his case without being moved to pity by the hurt in her eyes…and also so she wouldn’t see the ridiculous tent pole holding out the front of his drawers.
“Now, look, Miss Cat, I know you think you’re a fancy woman and all. But you just don’t have the makin’s o’ one.” He hoped she didn’t think that was an insult. “What I mean to say is, you’ve got a future, somethin’ to look forward to, a dream, arealdream. You should go after it. But not like this. This ain’t right.” He spoke over his shoulder. “Look, you can’t tell me you came all the way from Italy with a dream in your pocket and stars in your eyes, just to settle for toilin’ away in a bawdy house. Have a little patience,” he suggested. “Get work someplace else. A nice lady like you shouldn’t be sellin’ her virginity.” He sighed. “Sure, it’ll take some time to save up enough money for that sewin’ machine o’ yours. But in the end, it’ll be worth it. You’ll still have your self-respect. You’ll be able to hold your head up high. And one day,” he added, though the words stuck in his craw, “you’ll find the right man to love you and care for you, a man who’ll be mighty pleased to call you his wife. And you’ll be able to come to him, pure and sweet, not tainted by workin’ in a place like The Parlor.”
She didn’t answer him. Maybe he’d gotten his point across. He hoped he hadn’t hurt her feelings. But what he’d said was in her best interests. He’d hate to think that after he left, she’d fall prey to some gentleman caller who wasn’t so gentlemanly.
He turned back to her, careful to cover his raging erection.
“Understand, Cat?” he said softly.
There was no response.
“Cat?”
He moved closer to the bed.
The little darling was passed out. Her mouth hung open, and her limbs were splayed across most of the bed.
“Shit.” He’d wasted a perfectly good speech.
Rolling her onto her side of the bed, he climbed under the covers and turned his back to her. How he’d get to sleep with a stick of wood in his drawers, he didn’t know. But at least he’d wake with the knowledge he hadn’t compromised the soused little lady.
