Free Friends and Lovers by Diana Palmer

one. It’s been such a long time since I’ve been this close to any man.”
    “And what’s been happening between us is pretty new,” he added with a faint smile.
    She glanced up at him with the old sparkle in her green eyes. “I’ll bet this is a new twist for you,” she said with sudden realization.
    He cocked a dark eyebrow. “What is?”
    “Having potential conquests try to break down doors getting away from you.” She let her hands rest against his warm shirtfront, savoring the smooth feel of it. “I imagine you have to beat them off with sticks most of the time.”
    “I’ve found a few hiding under the bed,” he chuckled. “But you don’t fall into the category of a ‘conquest.’ Or a one-night stand. Or a casual affair.”
    She caught his silver eyes and searched them. “Then what am I?”
    He drew in a deep, slow breath while his hands tightened, drawing her closer. “Something mighty special, if you must know. I trust you.”
    She laughed. “I
used
to trust you,” she said with a wicked look.
    “You liked kissing me,” he challenged, looking down at her arrogantly. The mustache curled. “That’s why you ran like hell. But you didn’t stay away long, did you?”
    “No,” she admitted. She let her forehead rest against him, and it was like a homecoming. “I hate the way it’s been between us these past few weeks. The arguing, the remoteness…I thought about being without you forever, and I couldn’t bear it.” Her fingers clutched the fabric of his shirt and her eyes closed. “I had to know if you were mad at me.”
    “So you came rushing over with a twelve-pack of beer in the middle of the day?”
    “Something like that.” She sighed, and then smiled amusedly. “When I saw you coming, I wasn’t sure whether to give it to you or throw it at you. You looked dangerous.”
    “I felt dangerous. Ask Josito how I’ve been this past week.”
    “I hear the rubber tree’s made the endangered species list at your house,” she murmured.
    “So has Josito, if he’s been crying on your shoulder,” he informed her.
    “Don’t pick on him. He’s nice.”
    “So am I, as long as you’re around,” he said.
    She drew back to study his craggy face. “Not always,” she murmured, her eyes finding secrets hidden in his.
    He touched her mouth with a long, gentle finger and traced its soft red contours, watching it intently. “Men are notoriously not nice when they’re aroused,” he murmured.
    “I wouldn’t touch that line with insulated gloves,” she informed him. “Do I get a second cup of coffee, or had you planned to carry me off to your cave by the hair of my head?”
    He laughed shortly. “I wouldn’t pull out a single hair if it cost me one of my prize bulls,” he said, reaching to bury his hands in it. “I love the feel of it, the wildflower smell of it.”
    “Poetry?” she whispered.
    His eyes met hers. He was so close that she could see the lines beside them, the thickness of his dark eyelashes. His chest rose and fell quickly, roughly where her hands rested. “The only lines that come to mind are about the Light Brigade—want to hear it? Or would you rather I make it up as I go along?”
    The contact with his big, warm body was having its usual devastating effect on her. Her lips parted as she watched his head bend.
    “It’s…like a drug, isn’t it?” she whispered as his mouth brushed against hers.
    “What is?” he murmured, pressing his lips to her cheeks, her closed eyes, her nose.
    “Kissing,” she replied. Her fingers brushed against the buttons on his shirt and she wanted suddenly to touch him with a hunger that made her tingle all over.
    “Ummmmm,” he replied, more interested in learning the contours of her face with his lips than in conversation. He bent suddenly and lifted her clear off the floor, moving toward the sofa with her.
    “Go slow with me,” she whispered, burying her face in his warm throat. “It’s been a very long