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A ragged sound escaping him, Luke rises, picking up Sal like she’s a feather in his arms.

Twining her arms around his neck, she kisses him. Again. She can’t get enough. Of him. On her lips.

They crash through the screen door and into the house, slamming back against the wall. Picture frames slap the floor. The screen door rattles like a tin can. Sal breaks the kiss, gazing at him with heavy-lidded eyes. “Think we can knock this old house over?” she asks breathlessly.

“We’re sure as hell gonna try,” Luke says, burying his face in her hair. Sal grins and moves in for a kiss, her mouth brushing against the scruff of his cheek. She dips her head. Nips at his throat, his Adam’s apple.

A guttural groan rips forth from Luke. Hoisting Sal higher in his arms, he takes the stairs two at a time. Sal presses herself in closer, holding tight against him.

In the bedroom, Luke sets Sal gently on the end of the bed. Reverently, he kneels before her. Once again, his mouth finds hers. His hands find her too.

Hooking a finger through the loosened strap of her dress, he drags it down. Then, Luke’s warm hand is cupping her breast, filling his palm with her teardrop shape. His thumb brushes over her soft pink nipple, delicately until it forms a hard peak.

His slow caress sends Sal. Has her body singing just like a tune.

“Oh Jesus,” Luke grits out, his eyes dark with desire. “Sal, you’re perfect.”

Then, sliding closer, Luke dips his head between her breasts. Her nipples pucker under the heat of his exulted exhale. Taking her breast in his mouth, he sucks. Sal moans and arches into him, trying to absorb every single ounce of Luke’s touch. His lean, muscular hands, long fingers used to strum his guitar, gentle and calloused, run over her body like velvet.

A soft sigh escapes her lips. Sal nearly goes limp, puddling onto the floor, but she holds on, digging her nails into Luke’s shoulder as she gives herself over to the sharp need stoking every single one of her desires.

If Luke’s job is to drive her in-fucking-sane, well, tonight’s the night. She’s never felt this way before. For so long, she’s been cut off from any sort of pleasure, of happiness. Tonight Sal wants to find that with Luke. Hell, she’s a goddamn married woman. She’s got needs. Wants. She wants Luke.

Now.

Suddenly, brazen with desire, Sal slips her hands down his broad shoulders to his chest, her fingers working frantically at the buttons on his shirt. She yanks it off, revealing a lean, toned body. Muscles like taut ropes, tan as the golden fields.

Then, dragging her eyes away from the vision that is her husband, she slides close and licks the side of his face. Her tongue scraping his grizzled cheek. He tastes like salt. Like sweat. And Sal pulses in a soft spot down below.

Pulling back, Luke grins, wide-eyed. Wondrous. His expression changed. In love to roguish lust.

“Sal ...” Luke’s voice is husky On his face is a question. A devastatingly hot one.

Without hesitation, Sal nods. “Yes.”

Whatever he wants to give, she is his. She’s all in. She wants Luke. This. Them.

Her consent is like a starter’s pistol.

His dark eyes burn, wild.

Sal gasps as Luke suddenly grips her hips and tugs her into his body. Her thighs straddle his hips. Her eyes call him closer. Roughly, Luke shoves Sal’s dress up over her hips, tearing off her panties. Sal laughs, surprised and yet delighted. The ferocity of his want, his burning touch, is nothing like she’s ever known.

Then, Luke lays her down on the bed, soft covers beneath her. His lean hands slide between her thighs, parting them gently. As if on instinct, Sal props her feet on his broad shoulders. She glances up at him, his dark eyes glowing as he lowers himself in front of her.

I liked this, she thinks, hearkening back to another life, but still the same body.

She still responds the same way she used to. Has the same needs. And under Luke’s strong hands, his long fingers, Sal’s being driven utterly crazy. His eyes tell her he knows every inch of Sal, knows what makes her tick, hum, scream.

And he’s going to give it to her.

The understanding has her slowly coming undone. She trusts this man like she’s never trusted anyone.

Pulling her legs around him, Luke buries his face between her legs. He inhales silk and slick wetness. Sal whimpers. Her hands clench sheet corner. Her entire body lengthens, trembles, as Luke works her over with his tongue. It slips and slides and teases her clit, both ravishing and relishing.

Sal shakes on the bed. Every nerve in her body on red-hot alert. Ready to explode any second. One thing’s for certain. Luke knows what he’s doing. He’s all smooth moves and hot-as-hell confidence.

A wild moan escapes her lips. Sal’s eyes flutter and roll upward. Her hands release the sheet, moving to tightly grip Luke’s hair. He shudders under her touch, uttering an exclamation of fierce approval.

“Don’t stop ... ,” Sal moans. “Please, Luke, please ... oh ...”

She feels the smile on his face as he picks up speed. One hand grips her hips, the other reaches up to tenderly palm her quivering stomach. Luke circles his tongue. Soft, sensual strokes.

Warmth rises in her body like the licking flames of a fire. Her toes curl. Her back arches, Sal pressing herself deeper into Luke, as she begins that slow roller-coaster roll to the promised land. And then, she’s there. Her lips part and her eyes widen as tremors rock her body. From her mouth comes a soft cry of ecstasy. She’s shaking, riding each wave as it comes to her.

Whimpering, finished, exhausted, Sal goes liquid against the bed. She’d slide off too, simply collapse to the floor in a pulsing puddle, but Luke scoops her up in his arms and settles her back against the pillows.

She lies limply in his muscular arms, her eyes semi-slitted as she gazes contentedly up at him. When Luke leans in for a kiss, Sal grins. Wrapping an arm around his neck, she whispers in his ear, “It’s about goddamn time you took me to bed, Luke.”


Tags: Ava Hunter Nashville Star Romance