Free The Virgin's Night Out by Shiloh Walker Page B

seemed to draw him even closer. When he brought a hand up to fist in her hair, she reached for him, only to stop.
    This was insane.
    Slowly, he ended the kiss, lifting his head to study her. In his blue eyes, she saw the echo of the need storming inside her. She’d dreamed about him. Night after night. Wished for him, day after day. What she felt, it wasn’t love, but she thought maybe it could be.
    Already, the emotions she had for him were stronger than what she’d felt for Rodney and it wasn’t just because he made her body sing. She’d felt something toward him even when they were just exchanging letters—admiration, yes, but there was something about the words he’d written, the careful guarded way he’d expressed himself that made her wonder—did he feel the echo of the loneliness that had too often haunted her?
    “What is this?” she asked softly as he cupped her face, his thumb tracking over the curve of her lip.
    He stared, seemingly obsessed with the way it looked as he touched her. “This…” Boone shook his head. “It’s an obsession.”
    With a groan, he let go of her hips but he didn’t move away. He braced his hands on the counter on either side of her, pinning her in.
    She found surrounded by him.
    She would have even enjoyed it if she hadn’t seen the reluctance in his eyes. He wanted her…but he didn’t like it.
    “And what do you think we should do about it?”
    Boone’s eyes roamed over her face. “What I think…I think I should get the hell out of here, walk away. You should forget you ever saw me, that you even know me.”
    “Just like that?” She tightened her hands on the edge of the counter, an ache settling inside her chest at the thought of it. Forget that night existed? Not likely. “Why?”
    “Because this is no good.” He slid his hand up her back.
    She went still at his touch, but he didn’t seem to notice. He smoothed his hand around her torso and then up, catching a heavy lock of her hair in his hand. “Well, I’m no expert, but it felt pretty good.”
    With a ragged breath, he shook his head. “I don’t need to think about how good it felt. I’m already going insane, thinking I imagined that night. Nothing can feel that good. That perfect—but that doesn’t mean this, you, me, is any good.”
    “I’m not following.” She reached out and fisted her hand in his shirt. “It’s not like I’m asking you to marry me or anything. But you…we already sort of know each other. I like you. We…um…”
    “Being good in bed doesn’t mean this is good.” He pushed his hand into her hair. “My job takes me everywhere and I never even know if I’ll come back. If I disappeared? There might never be answers. A smart woman doesn’t get involved with a guy like that.”
    She licked her lips. “Then…” Why was it so hard to force the words out? He’d said almost exactly what she’d expected to hear. That was why Taylor had quit working in the field. He wanted his wife to know he’d be there.
    Sloane wanted the same thing.
    “Maybe you should go then.” She continued to stare at his chest. “I generally consider myself a smart woman.”
    His hands fell away.
    She was a smart woman—naïve at times, but smart. She knew what he was telling her. She’d be smart and protect herself, her future baby…
    After this —
    He backed up and she shoved off the counter. “You should go,” she said again, her voice firm.
    “I will.” He gave her a short nod and his face was calm, relaxed. He managed a faint smile. “Sloane—”
    The boots she wore had a solid, two-inch square heel. They were comfortable to walk in and they kept her warm on cooler days. They also made it possible for her to press her lips to the corner of his mouth. “After this.”
    Then she turned her head more fully and covered his mouth with hers.
    His groan, harsh and deep, rumbled out of his chest as he banded an arm around her waist and pulled her up against him. She opened for him and