The Shifter's Kiss, Book 1 (5 page)

But honestly, she was afraid she was going to pass out or get sick if this took too long. That creme brulee wasn’t really sitting so well with the tequila… Time to throw it into overdrive.

From
“Amy, Halfway Home Book 2”

“Ah,” he said. He walked around the bench and slid in next to her. He was just a few inches away. She could smell him - that old smell like salt and baseball mitts. She remembered him over her, dripping sweat from his chest onto hers in the dusty light of an afternoon spent in his attic room.

Her belly twinged and she exhaled slowly through pursed lips.

“I am so, so happy to see you,” he murmured.

She felt herself leaning away from him. She wanted to suck in her tummy, but knew it would be no use. Maybe sitting up straighter.

As if he read her discomfort he said, “You look amazing. Like a woman.”
Like a woman?
she thought. Fifty pounds later, she finally looked like a woman?

From “Ruby, Halfway Home Book 3”

“Ow,” she said softly as he drew his thumb across her bloodied lip. She caught a glimpse of his face in the moonlight. He was smooth, shiny like a polished stone. Though he was bald, his face seemed surprisingly young. His eyes were glittering in the light.

He slid his hand to the back of her neck and pulled her face down to his, flicking out his tongue to lick the wound lightly first, then pulling her onto his mouth and kissing her, hard. She found it difficult to breathe.

Suddenly he changed… no longer apathetic and stone-like, he was grinding against her, pulling her weight onto his hips. She felt completely electrified, sensing her whole body at once, fingertips to toes. Everything was zigzag lightning bolts and sprays of electricity.

From “Waiting for David” (Collected works:
“The Boy, Louis and Other Stories”
)

He shifted his weight, pushing her back onto the sofa and lying next to her, hard against her. He reached down to stroke the back of her knee. He kissed her deeply, breathing hard through his nose and sucking, then nibbling on her lower lip. His hand stroked and circled her knee, then slid up her thigh, under her skirt. She tried to push her knees closed and opened her eyes.“Wait a second,” she breathed. “Wait.”

He stilled his hand where it was, warm and strong and dry on her thigh. He searched her eyes. “It’s all right,” he whispered. He kissed her gently on the cheek and forehead, whispered in her ear, “This is amazing. I don’t want to stop. Please don’t make me stop.”

Trina felt his breath in her ear and shuddered. It was so strange to feel someone so in sync, to kiss someone so instantly in tune with what she wanted. She relaxed her knees slightly. He buried his face in her neck and bit her gently. She realized she was raising her hips to him as he stroked her thigh up and down, teasing, reaching farther up each time.