Prince Not Quite Charming: A Morning Glory Novella by Liz Talley

Author:Liz Talley [Talley, Liz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Prince Not So Charming
Publisher: ARTalley Books
Published: 2017-02-13T18:30:00+00:00

Clem moved his lips against Frances’s, savoring the taste of sweet wine and all that was Frances. She was an oxymoron—everything a woman should be. Soft, warm, and willing. Edgy, assessing, and stubborn. She was sugar, spice, and sometimes not nice, but so damn right in his arms.

“I like how you take my breath away,” he said against her lips.

“Yeah?”

“I’m starting to appreciate city girls. Y’all don’t pussyfoot around, do you?”

Frances smiled against his lips, one hand tangling in the hair that had grown too long at his neck. The scrape of her nails against his flesh sent chill bumps down his spine. “Well, we don’t cotton to pussyfootin.’”

“Exactly.”

He scooted back from the edge, dragging her across his lap. “You look incredible in this dress. But you know that, don’t you?”

Frances’s face glowed in the moonlight. Chunks of inky hair had fallen from the clip and swung to frame her face. It struck him at that moment he could actually fall in love with her. Maybe it was more than at that moment. Maybe it was a truth. Perhaps that’s where he was—on the precipice of falling for Frances, a woman highly wrong for him in almost every way.

“I wore it for you,” she whispered.

“Because you knew it would drive me crazy. I nearly punched ol’ Lon just for looking at you. You almost got to experience a bona fide bar fight.”

Frances stroked his cheek. “God, why do I like you so much?”

“’Cause you have a secret fetish for country boys.”

“I’ve been found out,” she said, pulling his head down.

He kissed her hard, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her against him. She opened her mouth and he took advantage, delving into the heat of her. He curled his hand around her ass, stroking her, enjoying the suppleness of her beneath the hem that had hiked up.

She grabbed his free hand and placed it on her breast. “Touch me, Clem. I need to . . . I need . . . you.”

Her breast filled his hand and desire slammed into him like a linebacker on a blitz. He slid her off his lap and rolled her over onto the pier, cradling her back with his arm. He didn’t stop kissing her as his free hand found the side zipper of the dress.

One quick motion downward and she was half-bared to him. Frances was so exquisite she nearly took his breath away.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, ripping his lips from her, watching his fingers make their way to the peak of her breast. He’d seen many women, but at that moment, none were so absolutely perfect for him. She glowed alabaster in the moonlight, a goddess awakened.

Eyes dilated, lips ravished, breathing erratic.

Exactly what a man wanted to see at such a moment.

But . . . Frances had said she didn’t want to go there. Her earlier protests made him hesitate. He knew he could have her right there on the pier. The dilated pupils, panting breaths, and two glasses of wine told him as much.

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