Free Against the Wind by Kat Martin

her a very great deal to make love with Jackson Raines.
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    Jackson cast a glance at Sarah, who rode in the passenger seat as they drove out of the hospital parking lot. “There’s something I need to do before we go home.”
    â€œWhat’s that?”
    â€œTake a look at your grandmother’s house. We need to see if there’s something there that might give us a clue who’s behind this.”
    â€œI know where the spare key is—if the door’s even locked. Gran figured living in a place like Sheep River, she didn’t have to worry about locking her doors.”
    â€œUsed to be that way. Unfortunately, times have changed.” As he drove toward the old woman’s house at the edge of town, Jackson glanced over at Sarah. He tried to concentrate on his driving and not think of the desire he felt for her that was growing all out of proportion. During the night just listening to her breathing as she slept against his shoulder made him hard. Her soft breasts had nestled against his arm, and desire clawed into his belly. He’d been hard off and on all night.
    Damn.
    He couldn’t remember when a woman had gotten to him the way Sarah Allen did.
    He amended that. As his brother had reminded him, the same woman had tied him in knots through most of his senior year. Though she had never known how strongly he wanted her, she had never been far from his thoughts.
    She wasn’t now.
    Christ.
    Boxing had taught him self-control and he prided himself on being a master. Unfortunately, when Sarah was around, that control grew thin and strained. Heflicked her another quick glance. He wanted to kiss her more than anything he could think of. He wanted to feel those soft breasts in his hands. He just flat out wanted her—to a degree that had rarely occurred in his orderly world.
    Jackson didn’t like it.
    Not one damned bit.
    They pulled up in front of Abigail Thompson’s little wood-frame house and he turned off the engine. He rounded the truck and helped Sarah down, tried to ignore the brush of fine strands of chestnut hair that floated across his cheek.
    His groin throbbed. When he looked at her again, she hadn’t moved, just stood there staring up at him as if she felt the heat pulsing between them. He couldn’t stop himself. He bent his head and kissed her.
    Soft, full lips. Cinnamon from the breakfast roll he’d bought her in the hospital cafeteria that morning. She softened against him and his body went achingly hard. He started to pull away, end the kiss while a thread of sanity remained, but her sweet mouth opened in invitation and his tongue slid inside.
    His arm went around her waist and he hauled her flush against him, deepened the kiss, lost himself in the taste of her, the feel of her slender body pressed the length of his. Her breasts were even fuller than he had imagined, softer, the tips like firm little berries. It was all he could do not to rip open her blouse and fill his palms, to bend his head and taste them.
    It took a moment before he realized she was pressing her hands against his chest, trying to break free of his hold.
    Instantly, he let her go.
    â€œGod, Sarah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I can’t believe it did.” He ran a hand along his jaw, felt the roughness of his morning beard. “I know the kind of man you were married to, the things he did to you. I didn’t mean to scare you. I don’t exactly know what happened.”
    The tension left her shoulders and a faint smile rose on her lips. “You’re a man. I’ve learned to distrust them. You scared me a little, but I think I mostly scared myself.” She reached up and lightly touched the roughness along his jaw. “It’s been a long time, Jackson.”
    His erection pulsed. He ached to kiss her again. Instead he stayed where he was. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Sarah. Not ever.”
    She studied him