Montana Wildfire
“Of course, she could have been in a blizzard for all she would have noticed. Jake was kissing her—deeply, hungrily, as though he never intended to stop kissing her. His mouth ate at hers, devouring the giving softness of her lips. His hands stroked feverish paths up and down her arms. Her body burned for him to stroke her just as feverishly elsewhere. Everywhere.
If there was anything else in the world besides the two of them, Amanda didn't notice. She'd waited so long for this moment. She wouldn't let herself be distracted.
Jake's fingers, riding her waist, tightened as he deepened the kiss, lightened it, then deepened it yet again. Amanda snuck her hands under the collar of his shirt. The muscles gliding beneath her fingertips bunched and flexed with his every move, proof of his dormant strength. It was odd that she didn't feel frightened or intimidated by that, the way she had been by his fury. Considering the circumstances, she should be scared senseless.
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