The moment I crack open a new book, I always rush through the beginning, the budding relationship between the hero and heroine, and anticipate that spontaneous moment when one of them makes their move. The First Kiss. The first turning point in every story.
Every week here on the blog, I’ll be sharing First Kisses from my books and those of other authors.
Frustration raced through his blood. She acted as though nothing had changed. Her only nod to caution when she roamed the countryside was the six-shooter she had belted around her hips. She refused to understand that a weapon wouldn’t protect her in every scenario. He tried to hold back the words that would reignite their last argument, but couldn’t.
“That gun won’t solve everything.”
“Between that and my good sense, you need to trust that I’ll manage.”
I trusted your judgment before and nearly lost you. Matt almost snapped at her. Instead, he chose another approach and managed to speak evenly. “And yet you were caught out in a storm that anyone could see has been brewing for hours.”
Her eyes warmed. “Believe me, I took note of the weather,” she unstrapped her gun belt, slung it over a chair back. “But I thought it worth the risk to see you.”
Heat shot through him even as Matt shook his head. “You’re trying to distract me from my point.”
“You know what you’re doing.”
“I wasn’t denying it,” Claire smiled, “I wanted to know if I was succeeding.”
He leveled a look at her. His tone flat, “Yes you are.”
“No, it’s not. You’re smart and skilled but you’re a-”
“Woman?” Her eyes seemed to darken.
“I’m glad you noticed,” Her words were silkily smooth as her fingers moved to the top button of her bodice.
Stunned, his gaze followed the movement. Words died on his tongue. Lips still parted, his heart skipped a beat when she started unfastening her green as grass blouse. Although he’d tried hard to bury it, the desire for Claire burned as strongly as ever. He’d missed her so much.
His hands curled into fists. They would be husband and wife now if only she would… He tensed, rigid as a board.
Silent, her gaze steady on his, she ignored him, freeing one button after another until the material parted. His gaze moved down to the shadowy valley between her breasts, enticed. The sight tantalized him for some seconds before he took action. He closed the distance between them and grabbed her wrists.
“I said stop.”
“Why?” Claire pressed closer.
Matt brought her arms down to her sides, releasing her only in order to reach up and pull her clothing back together. She rubbed her length against him, not discouraged in the slightest amount. His breath quickened. Her firm bounty slid against his hand. The touch of her bare flesh stole any rational thought he had left.
Heat coursed through him. His fingers moved in the barest motion of a caress. Her sigh feathered his skin. Before he had time to think logically again, she stood on her toes, looped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to cover his mouth with hers.
Her heart raced. Held in the circle of his arms, his body felt lean and strong, the embrace shot pleasure along her nerves. Her fingers played with raven black hair, neatly trimmed and combed in place as always, which made her want to ruffle it wild.
Eagerly, her hands moved, stroking broad shoulders then down over arms of muscle gained by hard labor. Despite long hours upholding the law, Matt often helped his parents on their farm. He’d told her that the mindless chores helped him keep life in perspective. She found that selflessness as attractive as the physical form the work produced.
Claire broke off the kiss. For a second she admired the man who’d stolen her heart. His handsome features were tense, his expression creased in serious lines. Eyes of light brown with flecks of green and gold focused on her. His lips parted. She shook her head, forestalling his speech.
Guided by instinct, driven by longing, Claire nibbled along his jaw. His rapid breath rewarded her. Fingertips touched her face. She looked up, into his eyes. Shivers shot down her spine as desire intoxicated her.
The need to touch him became irresistible. With one hand, Claire plucked at the buttons of his faded flannel shirt. Soft fabric parted and she slipped her fingers inside, sweeping them over the bare plains of his stomach and then up over his chest.
“Want me?” Her tone was bold, certain of his answer.
His hand gripped her chin. “God help me, yes.”
As sheriff of Silver Creek County, Matthew Marson’s job is to look after his town. But when he fails to protect the most important person in his life, Claire, from an attack, Matt feels as though he will never be able to forgive himself.
Her husband-to-be’s newly found overprotectiveness drives the headstrong Claire from his arms. She can’t see a future with a man who won’t allow her to follow her dreams.
In a small town where everybody knows your name and your business, it’s impossible for the pair to stay apart, especially as Claire finds that she can’t completely turn her back on the lawman that she loves.
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About Lori Connelly
I was born and still live in Oregon. Despite being a good student, my teachers complained about my tendency to daydream. The tales dancing through my imagination were frequently far more entertaining than real life. As far back as I can remember I made up stories, to calm my sister after a nightmare, entertain myself in boring classes and write in countless notebooks, many never again to see the light of day. I earned a BS from Eastern Oregon State College and married my best friend almost twenty years ago. I’ve three brilliant, handsome sons, one amazing daughter-in-law, a beautiful granddaughter and two spoiled dogs. When not writing I love to read, hike, camp, rock hound, and take long walks with my husband just after it rains.
Find Lori around the web at the following locations. Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Goodreads | Harper Impulse | Wattpad | Written Fireside