Spicy Excerpt from PROMISES LINGER

Copyright © Sarah McCarty 2004
All rights reserved

He stepped into the room, bringing the fresh scent of morning with him. Beneath his hat, his storm cloud eyes glittered with emotion. Her heart dropped into her stomach. She searched the small kitchen for a weapon. Unfortunately, in order to secure a pot or knife, she'd have to come within his reach. Where was her brain this morning, angering a man to the point she'd needled Asa? If she wanted to be so stupid, the least she could have done was to arm herself while she was at it.

He stopped when they were toe to toe. Her feet betrayed her resolution to show no fear. She took a step back. Asa took a step forward. Her rear collided with the kitchen table. His hand reached out. She closed her eyes and braced for the blow.

It was the longest time coming. In the eternity in which she waited for his fist to make contact, his scent surrounded her. The heat of his body scorched her nerve endings. His chest brushed against hers. The briefest of contacts and then nothing. No pain, no bruises. Just nothing. She opened her eyes.

"I forgot my lunch."

"Oh." For the life of her, she couldn't think of anything. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead. She felt her heart pounding. No doubt her pulse was visible in her throat.

"I forgot something else." Slow and easy, his drawl made a mockery of the fear that parched her throat.

"What?"

He shifted the sack containing his lunch to his left hand. His right came up to slide slowly around the back of her neck. His smile was as lazy as his drawl. "I forgot my goodbye kiss."

"Oh."

He tugged and she went. His thumb tipped up her chin. His head came down. She closed her eyes when his lips touched hers.

There was none of the force she expected. No probing with his tongue. There was just the sweet, light rubbing of his lips on hers. He eased back. Disappointment at the separation tripped over her defenses. Opening her eyes, she looked into his. His gaze was intent. His thumb pulled her lower lip free of her teeth and slid across the moist interior. "You want to kiss me back?"

Did she? She slid her arms around his neck as her breasts swelled and plumped in anticipation. "Yes."

His thumb slipped into her mouth. Her lips closed reflexively around it. His groan vibrated again her hardened nipples. His eyes were glued to the sight of her lips wrapped around his thumb. "Damn, I love your mouth."

"You said that before."

He smiled moving his thumb in and out of her mouth sending tingles down her spine. "You'll probably hear it a time or two more."

She caught his thumb with her teeth. Holding his gaze, she sucked lightly on the salty flesh.

"Damn!" There was a soft thump as his lunch hit the floor.

He didn't look mad anymore. Elizabeth couldn't contain her smile as she swirled her tongue around the rough pad. It wasn't her imagination that he jerked against her.

"Jesus!" Do that to my cock and I'll be your slave for life."

Two things hit her at once. Shock at his wording and satisfaction on finally knowing what men called their things.

"You liked it last night when I kissed you there?" The question obviously threw him for he stared at her open mouthed, but not a word passed his suddenly tight lips. She dragged her hands to the buttons on his shirt and slipped her fingers between the flaps. The hair on his chest tickled her fingertips. "You liked my lips on your cock?"

His breath drew in on a harshly. He released it on a rough laugh. "Yeah."

"Then why did you pull me away?"

She popped the top two buttons of his shirt and her smile broadened as he seemed to freeze into a statue. Against her stomach, his cock pressed demandingly. Above her head, his breath sawed in and out of his lungs in desperate anticipation. His hands fell from her face. They landed by his sides, briefly touched her hips, and fell back to his sides again. He clearly didn't know what to make of her boldness. She kissed his chest through the vee of his shirt. She decided she liked him off balance.

With the tip of her tongue she tasted his flesh. He tasted as fresh as he smelled. He tasted of pure, unadulterated, clean masculinity. His big hand came up and cupped the back of her head, pressing her against him.

"You're killin' me darlin'"

"I'm just kissing you back."

"You're playing with fire."

She cut him a glance through her lashes. "Not yet, but I intend to."

His hand never left her head as she kissed her way down his torso on her slow drop to the floor. Until her knees hit the wood planks, she wasn't really sure she was going to go through with it, but when she saw the extent of his desire for her, remembered the night before, the power that had been hers those few brief moments she'd had him in her mouth, she knew what she wanted. His fingers clenched in her hair, stopping her from moving forward.

"You don't need to do this."

It was a long trip up to his face. A long pleasurable trip. Her husband was one finely put together man. She moistened her lips with her tongue. "Don't you like it when a woman kisses you there?"

His eyes closed and his head tipped back like he was struggling for control.

"I've never asked a woman to do that."

She paused, returning her gaze to the front of his pants. "I was the first?"

She might have imagined it, but his cock seemed to be reaching for her through the heavy denim.

His "yes" was a harsh hiss of sound.

She liked knowing that. With one finger she reached forward and traced the contours of his shaft. His hips bucked helplessly beneath her touch. A woman could get addicted to having a man react to her like this, she decided.

"I liked it," she confessed in a barely discernible whisper.

"What?"

A quick glance determined she had his full attention. She didn't know if he truly hadn't heard or was shocked at what she'd said. She did know, however, that she wanted to taste his cock again. This time at her pace, without his interference.

"I liked it," she repeated clearly.

She was lifted from the floor by two large hands on her shoulders. She looked up to find his dark eyes glittering with emotion, the dark almost swallowing the silver.

"What?" she asked on a twinge of unease.

"I'm thinking I might like it, too."

In the time it took her to blink, he had her up and sitting on the table top. It was going to be tough to accomplish what she wanted from here. It took all her composure to point that out without stammering or crumpling into a ball of embarrassment. He didn't appear to notice. He merely flashed a grin and chuckled when she groaned. For once he didn't argue her avoiding his gaze. It should have warned her, but she was too caught up in mortification to pay attention until it was too late.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when his cool hands captured her ankles. As she scooted back, she asked, "What are you doing?"

With a tug he undid her efforts and had her posterior teetering on the edge of the table.

"Thought I'd have a bit more breakfast," he answered, stepping between her calves, completely unconcerned with her skirt riding up past her knees.

She tried to push the material down, but she wasn't too effective as she had to use one hand to balance on the table top.

"This isn't seemly," she pointed out desperately as he stepped between her splayed thighs. Her skirt continued its upward climb.

His "I wasn't going for seemly," was completely unconcerned with the fact that her skirt was now above her thighs and sunlight was highlighting every wrinkle in her pantaloons.

He paused. "Now there's a problem."

What on earth could he be seeing as a problem. Down there?

On second thought, she didn't want to know.

The jiggle he gave her legs as he reached for something in his pocket upset her balance. With a gasp, she felt her arms give out and she landed on her back.

"Now that's a sight."

She was sure it was. It wasn't every day a woman found herself laid out on the kitchen table in broad daylight, with her skirts hitched up around her neck and a fully dressed man standing between her thighs staring at all there was to see. She squeezed her eyes shut. The one corner of her soul that wasn't writhing in mortification wished heartily she'd put on her fancy underwear this morning. The silk ones with the expensive lace.

Something cool and narrow touched her thigh. She jerked upright only to immediately fall back. "Is that a knife?"

"Yup." His drawl was unconcerned. His hand on her midriff stopped her next lunge.

"Just lie still darlin' and we'll be getting this problem out of the way."

"I assure you I don't have any problem down there." At least, she hoped not.

The knife began an upward slide. She heard the hiss of material parting and suddenly had an excellent idea of what he thought was a problem.

"Are you crazy?" she gasped.

"Nope."

"I can't be naked in the kitchen!" There was a light tug as the knife hit the thickness of the drawstring waistband and then the cool waft of the morning air on her hip.

"I wasn't shooting for fully bare assed."

As if that was some comfort. "I absolutely refuse to allow this to continue." The knife slid under her opposite leg and slid through the cotton like it was nothing.

"It's a little late to be complaining."

Not in her book. While he was distracted returning the knife to its sheath, she wiggled toward the side of the table and freedom.

He stopped her simply by using his grip on her legs to pull her hips back towards him. "Hold still, darlin'. I've never done this before and I'm real interested in getting it right."

She glanced at his face and immediately wished she hadn't. He was looking at her. There. She squeezed her eyes tightly closed as if she could somehow block out the image of his expression. Hard, tight. Intent. Lustful.

Nothing could block out the sensation of his calloused fingertips drifting up her sensitive thighs until they reached her hips. She couldn't suppress a shiver and the goose bumps that sprang up along the path his hands had taken. His thumbs drew circles around her hipbones, grazing the creases in her thighs. With each pass, little sparks of sensation migrated inward from the spot. Her woman's flesh felt tingly and started to swell. The only thing that saved her from complete mortification was the fact that her pantaloons still preserved her modesty.

She hadn't even gotten the prayer of gratitude formed in her mind before that thin cotton was whisked away. Her eyes sprang open. Out of the corner of one, she saw the white fabric drift to the floor.

"Oh my God!" She gasped in shock, her hands flying to cover her privates. "What are you doing?"

As she watched, he lowered himself to his knees. His face was just above her hips, within inches of her most private place. Between the curves of her breasts, she met his hot gaze. Before her scandalized eyes, he tipped his hat back, and smiled. "Why darlin', I'm planning on getting acquainted with your sweet little pussy."

"You most certainly are not!" She jerked to a sitting position, aided by the way his big hands anchored her thighs.

He glanced up as she propped herself up on her elbows. "You planning on watching?"

"Oh my--no!" She took a swing at him. All she accomplished was to knock off his hat.

"A pity." He was totally unrepentant. "I think I might have enjoyed that."

As she glared at him, he leaned forward. She felt his breath on her pussy a second before the touch of his tongue.

He touched, swirled, and then slid through the soft folds in a leisurely lap.

It was like watching a train wreck happen. Her dignity and reputation were going to hell in a hand basket and all she could do was stare. Fascinated.

She thought he would be repulsed, but instead he seemed enthralled. Looking up at her, he ran his tongue around his lips, as if collecting every morsel of her flavor. His gaze was serious. He held hers as he leaned forward again. And very slowly, deliberately, he stuck his tongue out. It seemed to take forever for his tongue to reach her. Her breath caught in her throat as he rested it against the pink flesh swelling at the top of her pussy. She stopped breathing all together when he fluttered it there, shooting a maelstrom of sensation from her groin through her body. She tried to shift away, but he followed, sucking the flange of flesh into the heat of his mouth. Her world reduced to a spiral of sensation that started out narrowed and intense and spread outward like wildfire throughout her body. She wanted to pull away. She wanted to shove closer. She settled for a combination of the two.

"What are you doing to me?" It took a tremendous amount of concentration to get the question out.

He lapped at her pussy, delving, swirling and dipping through folds as if searching for every drop of cream. "I'm making you feel good."

Lord was he making her feel good. "This has got to be a sin."

"Maybe." He slipped his big hands under her rear. and pulled her down until her hips rested on the edge of the table. "Come here."

"Why?" She should have known the man would answer with complete embarrassing honesty. She just felt too exposed to be blase?. And she wanted

He tilted her hips up. "Because I want to lap up all the delicious cream I can convince you to give me."

"Oh God." The soft thunk the back of her head made as it fell back to the table was just one more sensation in the cacophony going off in her body. "You can't be serious."

She'd barely survived what he'd done so far.