“I’m a grown woman. I certainly don’t need permission from Faron or Garth to give you a simple little good-night kiss.” Tate Whitelaw stepped closer to the tall cowboy and slipped her arms around his neck. The bright light over the front door didn’t quite reach to the corner of the railed porch where she was standing with Hank.Hank took advantage of Tate’s invitation, drawing her into his arms behind one of the massive fluted columns that graced the front of the house and aligning their bodies f...rom breast to hip. She was uncomfortably aware of his arousal, since only two layers of denim—her jeans and his—separated their warm flesh. His mouth sought hers, and his tongue thrust inside. It was more than a simple good-night kiss, and Tate suddenly found herself wishing she hadn’t been quite so encouraging.“Hank—” she gasped, pulling her head back and trying to escape his ardor. “I don’t think—”Hank’s arms tightened around her, and Tate found herself in a wrestling match.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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