Page 25 of The Texas Ranger: Saddled Up
His thumb stopped moving. “I like you,” he admitted.
“I like you too.” She gave a tiny giggle.
“Aasia, you certainly are amazing,” he said right before he released the last chain and he kissed her.
~*~
Bear had always praised himself for having self-control.
That was no longer true.
He had shitty self-control because the last thing he should be doing was touching Aasia, but the only way would have been to sever his hand from his arm.
He couldn’t take his mouth off her. If heaven had a taste that would be her.
Why in the hell would he break his rule to never get involved with someone he had investigated?
Technically, he’d never investigated Aasia. Fletcher had been the target. If Bear had dove deep into Aasia’s past he would have found out about the foot pics.
Her hands were in tight fists, clenching his shirt, holding onto him like a lifeline as if she feared he might disappear.
He’d never expected to feel like he did at that moment. He hoped she wanted things to escalate as much as he did. Whatever that tiny gasp was that crawled up her throat and he swallowed with his kiss he hoped it was a silent invitation to allow things to heat up.
Her hips brushed his swollen zipper, causing a guttural reaction within his body. He threaded his fingers in her hair, tugging on the satin soft strands, then pressed the pads of his fingers into her scalp for a massage.
Her hand covered his zipper and he moaned. His jeans were being stretched to capacity, testing the seams. She squeezed and kneaded him through the denim, making him harder until he got so close to coming that his balls ached.
Then her hand slipped away and she took a wide step back.
What the hell?
He blinked three times, keeping her in focus, trying to piece together what just happened.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
His shoulders dropped as her sudden distance became a cold icy blast of air across his body.
Her eyes were wide. Her lips parted. She was now taking large gulps of air, followed by her hand planting over her mouth. Red crimson color filled her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell.
“Are you okay?” He watched her closely, reaching out to touch her arm.
She lowered her hand. “I drank too much. I’m feeling dizzy. Disoriented.”
“Are you going to get sick?”
“N—no. Maybe.” She brought her hand back up and pressed her fingers to her temple. “Y-yes. I think I am.” She tookseveral backward steps toward the bushes and darted behind them. Almost at once he heard her gagging and retching.
Fuck!
“Need some help?” he called out. What was expected of him? Should he go hold her hair? Leave her alone? Maybe she was embarrassed if he watched her puke. So he went to his truck, grabbed a handful of takeout napkins from his console and took them to her, staying enough distance away so that he didn’t cause her any distress.
He waited and when he heard her emerging from the brushes, he turned to her.
“I’m drunk,” she said as she took the napkins and wiped her face. “I’m so sorry. How embarrassing.” She balled up the dirty napkins and tossed them into the nearby dumpster.
“Nothing to be embarrassed about. We’ve all been there. A time or two.”
“I-I want you to know that I enjoyed the kiss. I think it was that last drink.”
