Page 81 of Native Hawk
They didn’t even make it to the bed.
Drew rained kisses all over her face and neck and shoulders.
She clawed at the buttons of his shirt.
He slipped his fingers down the front of her dress, and she sobbed, puckering instantly at his touch.
She thrust her fingers into his lush hair and feasted on his mouth.
He rubbed his hand firmly over the front of her skirts, delving between her legs.
She moaned, pressing her palm hard against his trousers.
He answered with a groan, backing her against the wall.
But deep in her heart, she knew she dared go no further. Their passion was like a wildfire, burning out of control. If she continued, there would be no stopping.
She couldn’t give him what he wanted, what they both wanted. Not yet. Not until she was sure he was hers for good.
So she rested one hand on his shoulder and murmured, “We must not.”
“Aw, Cat, don’t tease me.”
“I do not mean to, truly.”
He let out a breath that was half a sigh, half a growl. Then he backed away, running both hands through his hair.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly, then gave him a hopeful smile. “I promise it will be worth the wait.”
He nodded, then mumbled, “If my balls don’t turn blue and fall off first.”
He adjusted his trousers, trying to hide the bulge there, and put his hand on the doorknob.
Then, remembering, he dug in his pocket and tossed a pouch of coins onto the bed. “Twenty-four dollars. That should move the weddin’ date up a bit.” He gave her one last longing look. “Good night, Cat.”
