Free Whistlin' Dixie (Tempered Steel Book 1) by Maggie Adams Page A

telling her that the time for reconsidering had past.
    His free arm reached up to discard the towel that hid her damp tresses from his probing eyes. Threading his fingers through her golden curls, he followed a winding path with his hands down the small of her back. Lifting one curl, he brought it to his lips then placed it with reverence on her bared breasts, smiling slightly, remembering his fantasy dream of just a few days ago. As he gazed at her beauty, he silently acknowledged that reality, in this instance, was a thousand times better.
    His gaze returned to her face after a moment. He inhaled her scent. She smelled of lavender and vanilla. Sweet. She licked her lips in anticipation, her tongue darting out to skim across her upper lip. His hands moved to her face, cupping her cheek. He groaned and lowered his lips to hers, crushing her against him, securing her in place.
    He plundered her tender mouth. This was no gentle kiss like before. This was full of pent-up passion and promise; his lips crushing, demanding entrance which she willingly supplied. She had every right to be frightened at his intensity, but he made sure she was being inundated with so many other, more exciting feelings that required her attention.
    She opened her mouth wider and his tongue swept in again. He crushed her to him, his tongue mimicking the love play he hoped they would soon be sharing. Her hands crept up from his shoulders to wind around his neck, pressing even closer to him, yet it wasn’t close enough. He rained kisses along her cheek or jaw line, down her throat, and across her collarbone as she drew in a ragged breath. Dixie threw back her head and moaned when he plucked at her silk clad nipples. Mac pulled the robe completely off her. She gasped when he let his whiskers scratch her soft skin. He nuzzled the creamy breasts his hands had freed. When his cheek lightly grazed across one turgent peak, Dixie cried out softly and pulled slightly away from him, arching her back over his braced arms and lifting her breast for more of his caress.
    “Did you like that baby?” He smiled and repeated the tender gesture. When he took the sensitive but into his mouth, she flinched. Mac grasped her butt and lifted her higher, pushing her more firmly against his hardened manhood. She wrapped her legs around his waist, nestling herself against him, opening to his touch. The scent of her arousal propelled Mac’s need out of control.
    Mac knew he couldn’t stand much more of her sweet, uninhibited response. He began walking toward the back of the house, breaking their kisses only when he had to gauge the direction of her bedroom. He toe-opened the first door with this foot, noting the masculine design. Dammit! Jamie’s room.
    Dixie pointed to the door at the end of the hall. “There.”
    Mac made it in two strides, pushing open the door, and once again taking her mouth in fierce possession. He tore his mouth away to look over his shoulder and find the bed. A single lamp was aglow on the nightstand beside the huge four poster bed that dominated the room. The soft pale sheets were turned down, and the drapes closed against the noises of the street outside.
    Mac settled Dixie gently on the down comforter, taking a moment to view her completely. He drew in his breath sharply as he gazed at her innocent beauty. Her eyes were half closed, and her blonde hair was spread across the pillows in wanton disarray. Her lips were swollen from his kisses, her breasts blushing pink from his whiskers, her nipples erect and begging for his mouth. Her hands were grasping fistfuls of the sheet as her hips undulated rhythmically searching for his touch.
    Mac stared at her uninhibited display of passion. She was lost in a haze of desire. He had made her feel this way. She was beautiful. She instinctively lifted her arms to welcome him, wanting more. God, he was the luckiest man in the world.
    He leaned down to trace her aereola, so pink and perfect, with one finger. Dixie