Free Challa by Linda Mooney Page B

cold and trembling when he kissed her. Challa reacted, pulling back slightly, but only slightly.
    Compton kept a tight rein on his emotions, and an even tighter rein on what his body demanded that he do. It would take very little effort to push her down across both seats, but he wasn’t about to jeopardize their budding relationship with any crass actions or threatening moves. No, if it took handcuffing his wrists to the gun rack behind the seats, Compton swore to himself he would take things as nice and easy as he could physically manage in order to win her trust.
    In order to win her.
    It took him all of two seconds to learn that Challa had not kissed many men, if any. Her mouth was responsive, yet she timidly imitated his actions. On the plus side, her lips were growing warmer. In fact, the steam coming off their clothing was leaving a thin film of moisture on the windshield and windows.
    Her hands continued to press against his sternum, her fingers clutching his button-down, short-sleeved shirt as if she was afraid he would let her go. Her breathing was steadily growing faster and shorter, and she moved closer to him.
    The interior of the truck smelled like one vast pool of fragrant honeysuckle warmed by the sun. Not cloying, but light and sweet. He doubted it was her perfume, but he couldn’t rule out the possibility of it coming from her clothing, or her soap or shampoo. But there was no doubt in his mind that the scent was as much a part of her as her skin, her hair, and her lips.
    Her tongue licked the corner of his mouth. Compton felt his erection shift in his lap, nearly standing on end like a loaded missile. Beneath his hands he could feel her skin and the thin dress she wore. The flex of muscle beneath the incredibly soft texture of her back was like a potent drink going straight to his head. Besieged by the hundred and one sensations of her mouth, her skin, her body, her hair, her breath, her fingers, her hands, and her scent, Compton moaned.
    Challa gasped in reply. The next thing he knew, her arms went around his neck, and she was pressing her whole body along his.
    Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…
    The words slid through his mind like a litany. This woman wanted him, and by her responses alone he could tell she was just as inexperienced as he was in the art of lovemaking. Maybe less, maybe more. But he would swear her trembling and hesitant kisses were not the actions of a woman who frequently gave herself to any road show Johnny who waited after the end of each performance for a chance to get to know Challa the Alien Girl…and hopefully get a piece of ass in the bargain.
    Yeah, Compton. And what do you think your chances are you’ll actually get laid?
    The snarky comment had the same effect as a cold shower. Compton regretfully pulled away from Challa’s full lips as a groan rattled in his chest. He bowed his head, to feel her lightly kiss his forehead.
    “Compton?”
    Looking back into her face, he cupped her cheek with one hand. “Challa, listen.”
    “I never th-thought…” She hiccupped, and a teardrop slipped down her face. Another drop glittered like a faceted diamond on her long, dark red lashes.
    Compton paused and debated whether to tell her what he’d felt he had to tell her. That he wasn’t quite the man she may believe he is. That he had a history she had to know about if they wanted to take this relationship any further.
    Especially if their relationship was going to become sexual.
    If it could become sexual.
    Another thought surfaced, and Compton found himself at a loss for words. What were the chances Challa was a virgin?
    Almost like a second thought, he remembered what she had started to tell him. Breathe, Compton. Breathe and concentrate on what she’s trying to say.
    “You never thought what?” he whispered, wiping away the runaway tear with his thumb.
    “I never thought I would find you.”
    “What are you talking about, Challa? I don’t understand.”
    Her chin was