Free Miss Lizzy's Legacy by Peggy Moreland

was nothing but a product of her own overactive imagination.
    But then his lips met hers and she lost the ability to reason. Warmth. Heat. A taste that made her thirsty for more. His kiss was everything she’d remembered, imagined...and more. Her lips parted in response to him.
    Judd had meant to plant an innocent kiss, take his apology and get the hell out of Dodge. But something happened between intent and exit that kept him glued to that spot of carpet, his hands at her waist, his mouth pressed against hers.
    He’d kissed a lot of women in his day, some whose names he couldn’t even remember, but none with the passion this woman possessed. At the first touch, she had his heart slamming against his rib cage and his blood temperature shooting up about ten degrees.
    An ache throbbed to life deep within him. To ease it, he caught her hips in his hand and dragged her close. He tasted as well as felt her moan of pleasure seconds before she tore her lips from his. The sting of disappointment at her withdrawal hit him sharp and fast.
    She pressed her forehead to his, her chest heaving, her fingernails digging into his biceps. “I was afraid of that,” she murmured.
    â€œAfraid of what?”
    She lifted her face, her eyes as wide and as full of fear as a rabbit’s caught in a beam of headlights. “Afraid that it was as good as I remembered.”
    A chuckle rumbled low in Judd’s chest. He didn’t know if the reaction was from relief—to discover that she was as affected as he by the kiss—or the openness of her admission. Whatever the reason, he hugged her tight against him. “Did you expect less?”
    â€œNo,” she whispered against his chest. “But I’d hoped.”
    He levered a finger beneath her chin and lifted, tipping her face up to his. The heat radiating from her eyes made his own burn in response. “Is the experiment over?”
    Her lips trembled a one-word response. “Y-yes.”
    â€œAnd the results? Were they what you wanted?”
    â€œYes.” She saw the flicker of knowledge in his eyes, telling her he knew she lied. Already regretting her impulsive request for him to kiss her, she dropped her gaze and swallowed hard. “No,” she murmured.
    â€œMaybe we should give it another try.”
    Her gaze flew to meet his. “No, please—” But his lips were already on hers. His hands slid down her back again to cup the cheeks of her backside. His knees bent slightly as he dipped to match the length of his body to hers. Desire sliced through her, sharp and biting.
    He rolled his hips from side to side in a maddeningly slow rhythm, his groin rubbing against hers, the swell of his manhood as evident to her as the dig of his belt buckle against her waist.
    Passion became something tangible, something she could taste, feel...a need that cried out for satisfaction. A sob welled in her throat.
    This shouldn’t be happening, she told herself even as her fingers moved to his chest. This man was all but a stranger. Stephen should be the one kissing her this way, Stephen who evoked these feelings in her. Nice, safe Stephen whom she’d known most of her life. Why couldn’t he make her feel this way? Yet, she’d kissed Stephen a thousand times and not once had she ever wanted to fling aside convention and roll naked with him on the floor.
    But she wanted to with Judd Baker. She wanted to go on kissing him until somehow he quenched this thirst. She wanted to feel his skin heat beneath her hands. She wanted to feel the strength of his muscles tighten against her bare skin. She wanted—God, how she wanted.
    Judd wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore. He’d thought it was to give her a kiss, get his apology accepted and get out, but that purpose was slowly going up in smoke to be replaced by a stronger desire to make love to this woman. And that was something that hadn’t happened to him in a long time.
    His