Free Before the Rain by JoAnne Kenrick Page A

what I’m doing, dunno what you’re doing to me.”
    He smacked a kiss on her lips, fast and surprising.
    She hooked her hands around his neck and parted his mouth with her tongue, daring him to kiss her good and kiss her hard. Instead, he let out a moan so deep, so guttural that his sound echoed through her and settled deep into her soul. Drenched in desire, she gave in to him with a reckless abandonment. Goose bumps rippled across her chest and tingled at her hardened nubs, and her sex swelled.
    His hardness pressed against her, making her crave him all the more.
    He peeled her off of him and sighed. “You wanna know why I’m so happy tonight, why I’m not the Dylan Mostyn you thought you knew? The rude farmer you love to hate?”
    “It’s because you’ve had a drink or two or five. And to be honest, you’re a better man for it. And darn can you move.”
    “We’re both a little drunk, but on lust not booze.”
    “Perhaps.”
    “I don’t even think I like you.”
    “I know, right?” She squeezed her eyes tight shut. Blubbering something about her own confusion, she crumpled into him and wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzling into him. “We really do love to hate each other, don’t we?”
    “You’re upset?” He eased his fingers between her locks and combed through her hair. “Shh. You don’t need to speak, Chantilly. But know I’m here for you.” He kissed the crown of her head once and then again.
    How sweet he was, which didn’t help clear her head a darn diddly bit.
    Thunder sounded ahead, and the lights flickered.
    She quivered. “We should go inside.”
    “ Ia , we should.” He swept a finger across her cheek, wiping away her tears and trailing his touch down to her lips, lingering. Wanton.
    “I want to kiss you again, so bad,” she whispered.
    He tugged at his collar and undid a button, revealing a hint of dark chest hair. “Damned if I don’t wanna kiss you, too. There’s something drawing me to you, pulling me in and making me wanna touch you, to imagine what it’d be like to be inside you.”
    “Dyl.” She dragged a finger over the top button and flipped through the opening, exposing more of his manliness. Maybe to torture herself or to prolong their twisted game of foreplay, she twirled her touch into his curls and moved to the next button, toying with the plastic closure. “The sexual tension between us has been palpable since the get-go.”
    He grabbed her hand and stilled her finger, his grasp tight, commanding. “We should shag,” he declared and used his free arm to pull her in closer so his chest pressed against hers. His heartbeat thrummed hard and vibrated against her palm. “I need to think straight again.”
    “Best. Idea. Ever,” she said, her voice breathy and her hands shaking.
    He pressed his mouth against her forehead and cupped her face. “So we’re doing this?”
    Lust raced through her and caused her to tremble. She tried to speak, but instead she stammered, “Y-y-yes.”
    He curled his hand around hers and stood. “Not here, though.”
    Head whirling with hope, she leaned into him. “Dyl, I’ll burst if you’re not inside me soon.”
    The door opened and the din of the pub spilled into their private moment. Dylan stepped back and released his hold, slipping his hands into his pockets.
    Zoe zoomed her gaze in on who had caught them.
    Betty.
    She stood in the doorway, hands on hips and nostrils flaring. “Hey, Sandy and Danny, the people are waiting.” Her pitch rose with every word. “Time to sing.” The woman glance from Zoe to Dylan and back again. “This won’t do. This won’t do at all.”
     

Chapter Nine
     
    Thunder boomed overhead, and a crack of lightning split open the sky.
    Another clap of thunder echoed through the pub. Everyone gasped then cheered about a lock-in and carried on drinking.
    “What’s a lock-in?” she whispered to Dylan.
    He grinned. “It’s when they lock the doors, and the pub stays open well after