She sat on the edge of their four-poster bed, her hip snugged against his, her smooth hand on his cheek. Her long, loose hair tickled his bare chest. He was aroused, conscious of her breasts, her waist. She smelled of new rain. He wanted her to slip off her cotton dress and lie naked with him. He reached for her, but as soon as his hands clasped her arms, she moved her palm to his chest and pushed him back down on the bed. “Buck. Wait. Listen to me.” He shook his head to clear it of dreams, of desire. He forced himself to look into her face instead of down the front of her dress, at the slope of her lovely neck and the rise of flesh. Nipples he knew by touch and taste. “Yeah. What?” “I got saved tonight.” “Saved? From what?” “Sin. Eternal fire.” “Since when are you worried about that?” “We’re all sinful.
