Bet it on my Heart

“Are you a gift from God or do they make all the men like you around here?”

“What’re you talking about?” he asked with a chuckle, threading his fingers through hers and pulling her close, navel to navel.

“You ride a horse like a Trojan warrior,” she pointed out. “You happen to look like one, too, minus the hat and boots. You’re ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent charm. And you also happen to be a fabulous dancer.” She tilted her head curiously. “All that’s missing is ‘Great Kisser.’”

He lowered his lips. They brushed hers as he murmured, “Got that covered.”

Her eyes drifted to a close while he lingered a breath away, teasing her. That fresh smell of his wrapped her close and warm. “Of course, you do.” Her lips parted under his to accept the full depth of his smoldering kiss. The hands she’d twined at the nape of his neck fell limp on his collar. Her head bowed back into his cupped palm as his tongue danced over hers in firm, languid strokes.

Heart pattering, breath stalling, she hardly noticed the hum that escaped her throat. His hand was trekking down her back, long fingers inciting the skin underneath the zipper of her dress. The song ended, but she didn’t break away from him when applause sounded around them and people began to nudge past them on and off the dance floor. His hands gripped her hips as the kiss intensified.

Good God.