The Real Thing by Barbara Delinsky

Author:Barbara Delinsky [Delinsky, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781466849792
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2014-04-01T07:00:00+00:00

6

HIS MOUTH TOUCHED hers lightly at first, brushing her lips, sampling their shape and texture. Then he intensified the kiss, deepening it by bold degrees until it had become something positively breathtaking.

Deirdre could barely think, much less respond. She’d known Neil was going to kiss her, but she’d never expected such force in the simple communion of mouths. He drank from her like a man who was dying of thirst, stumbling unexpectedly upon an oasis in the desert. From time to time his lips gentled to a whisper, touching hers almost timidly in reassurance that what he’d found wasn’t a mirage.

His hands framed her face, moving her inches away when his mouth would have resisted even that much. “Kiss me, Deirdre,” he breathed, studying her through lambent eyes.

His hoarse command was enough to free her from the spell she’d been under. When he brought her mouth back to his, her lips were parted, curious, eager, and she returned his kiss with growing fervor. She discovered the firmness of his lips, the evenness of his teeth, the texture of his tongue. She tasted his taste and breathed his breath, and every cell in her that was woman came alive.

“Deirdre,” he whispered, once again inching her face from his. He pressed his warm forehead to hers and worked at catching his breath. “Why did you do that?”

Deirdre, who was having breathing difficulties of her own, struggled to understand. “What?”

“Why did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Kiss me!”

The haze in her head began to clear, and she drew farther away. “You told me to kiss you.”

His brows were drawn together, his features taut. “Not like that. I expected just a little kiss. Not … not that!”

He was angry. She couldn’t believe it. “And who was kissing whom first like that?”

His breath came roughly, nostrils flaring. “You didn’t have to do it back!” Shoving his large frame from the bed, he stormed from the room, leaving Deirdre unsure and bewildered and, very quickly, angry.

She sat up to glare in the direction he’d gone, then closed her eyes and tried to understand his reaction. Though she’d never, never kissed or been kissed that way, she wasn’t so inexperienced that she couldn’t see when a man was aroused. Neil Hersey had been aroused, and he’d resented it.

Which meant he didn’t want involvement any more than she did.

Which meant they had a problem.

She’d enjoyed his kiss. More than that. It had taken her places she’d never been before. Kissing Neil had been like sampling a rich chocolate with a brandy center, sweet and dissolving—yet potent. He went straight to her head.

She touched her swollen lips, then her tingling chin. Even his beard had excited her, its roughness a contrast to the smoothness of his mouth. Yes, he was smooth. Smooth and virile and stimulating, damn him!

Dropping her chin to her chest, she took several long, steadying breaths. With the fresh intake of oxygen came the strength she needed. Yes, they were stuck under the same roof. They were even stuck, thanks to a matching stubbornness, in the same bed.

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