Page 39 of Puppy Love

He stared at her with a look so staggered she almost feared she’d gone too far. Pushing Harrison a little bit outside his comfort zone was fine—in fact, it was the only way she was going to get through to him—but she didn’t want to push himaway.

Then he dropped his mouth to hers, and she realized that he wasn’t going anywhere. There was no time to revel in that searing heat of his or the way his body felt against hers. There was no time to do anything, really, besides accept the demands he made, one after another.

One hand was in her hair, his fingers tugging at the short strands. His other hand wound toward her lower back, pulling her flush against him. His lips bypassed the playful nuzzling stage and pressed her own open, allowing him to sweep his tongue into her mouth until her head swam with possibilities.

In other words, hekissedher—not just a sample or a nibble, but a hot, throbbing, full-body demand that left her weak in the knees. It was also tender in ways she hadn’t been expecting.

She would have had difficulty pinpointing exactly how that tenderness was taking shape. It was the way he cradled her in his arms, his body making a nest for her to burrow into, her limbs coiling into the warmth of him. It was the way his kiss moved away from her lips and along her jawline, soft pecks and light nibbles giving over to what she could have sworn was an actual bite on the curve of her neck. That was whatreallygave the show away.

He was tasting her, sampling her, devouring her.

Sophie had been kissed plenty of times before. In fact, she’d started young. The teenage cancer ward was a breeding ground of exploratory vice, so many of the kids unsure how much time they had left that they weren’t leaving anything—including sex—up to chance.

But this?Wow.She wasn’t sure she’d ever been devoured before.

“Holy crap, you’re good at this,” she said, and turned her head to give him better access to her neck. She also buried her hands in his hair, holding his head in place in case he got any funny ideas about stopping before things got really interesting. “Amazing, actually. Do you practice on your pillow at night or something?”

It was a good thing she’d had the foresight to hold on to him, because he tried lifting his head at that. “Yes. I routinely make out with my pillow. That’s what we Sleeping Beauties do.”

She moaned, letting him know she wasn’t about to let him put a wall up against what had to be one of the hottest make-out sessions she’d had in a long time—or, you know, ever. She also pressed her hips against his, doing a lot more than moan when the hard line of his groin hit her right in the sweet spot. Would it be awful if she gyrated against him a few times? Just a little?

“Lucky pillow,” she said, and this time, she was the one doing the kissing. She had to hitch a leg around the back of his thigh and tug on his hair to reach his lips, but it was well worth the effort when his mouth opened to let her in.

Harrison’s hand naturally found its way to her leg, his wide palm searing her skin through the see-through panel. The sensation of tingling, liquid heat didn’t abate any as his hand began moving in a determinedly upward direction, skimming along the rounded curve of her thigh until he was almost in derriere territory.

“Why, Harrison Parks,” she chided—as much as a woman could chide when she was climbing a man like a tree. “Do you also feel your pillow up like that?”

“Every chance I get. Fortunately, it’s not made of memory foam.”

Oh dear. Harrison had just made a joke. He’d made a joke while his body burned against hers. She wasn’t sure she could take this much novelty at once. The only solution, she decided, was to make a mad grab for the bottom of his T-shirt. As long as she was being shocked with revelations, she might as well get a glimpse of his abs too.

But he stopped her just as she managed to snake a hand against the flat, muscular plane of his abdomen. She caught a glimpse of the patch on his stomach where his pump attached, but that was all before his free hand pressed over the top of hers.

“I’m not some sad, solitary charity case, Sophie.”

She knew, in a second, that she’d pushed too far. Instinct told her to say something playful and light, anything to get him back to the serious business of kissing her, but she took a deep breath and met his gaze instead. His eyes were still steely, still gray, but they weren’t nearly as hard.

Swallowing heavily, she said, “Of course you’re not.”

His fingers tightened around hers, their hands near enough his waistband that there was no mistaking how much sexual urgency pulsated between them. “I’m serious. I know I’m not good at people, and I can come across all wrong sometimes, but I don’t want you to think I’m…” He frowned, struggling to find the right word.

“Desperate?” she ventured.

He halted. “I’m not desperate.”

“Alone?”

“Iamalone most of the time, but I’ve always been that way.”

“Human, then,” she said, refusing to let him close back up. “Human and fallible and in need of a little comfort from time to time. Just like the rest of us.”

It took him a long time to answer.Toolong, making her fear that she’d made yet another misstep, forcing him to withdraw once more into his hard shell. But he drew a deep, shuddering breath and said the words she’d been waiting her whole life to hear.

Well, almost.

“No one is like you, Sophie,” he said. “Thank God for us all.”

Instead of backing away, he lifted his wide palm to her cheek. She readied herself for another kiss. Half of her hoped it would be one of those hard, fierce ones. The other half yearned for something tender and slow. But as they stood there together, Sophie’s head cradled in Harrison’s hand, all she got was a long, lingering stare.