the floor.
Whip took the shotgun from her hands and uncocked it with a few swift, easy motions. When he replaced the weapon on its pegs over the door, Shannon numbly noted that there was blood on both of his hands.
Whip saw the look on her face when he turned back to her.
«It’s all right, honey girl,» he said. «You don’t need the shotgun. I won’t hurt you. I’m just trying to answer your question about what I want from you. But I don’t have any words to tell you…»
Callused fingertips lightly traced Shannon’s hairline, the rims of her ears, the dense mahogany eyelashes quivering against her cheek, the trembling line of her lips, the pulse beating frantically in her throat.
«Are you truly afraid of me?» Whip asked huskily.
Shannon shook her head. «N-no.»
«You ought to be.»
«Why?»
«I want what I first saw in your walk,» he said simply.
«I–I don’t understand.»
«Neither do I. I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you, all at once, no thought, no caution, no right or wrong, nothing but a hard need riding me all day, every day. And the nights…Jesus. The nights are pure, undiluted hell.»
Shannon tried to speak. No words came out of her dry throat.
Whip’s thumbs traced her mouth, caressing it as intimately as a kiss. Her softness lured him, and her heat, and the ragged sigh she finally gave, a sigh that was also his name.
«You have a walk like honey,» Whip said huskily, bending down to her. «Kiss me, Shannon. I want to find out if your mouth is half as arousing as your walk.»
Shannon made a soft, startled sound when Whip’s teeth nibbled at her lips and his tongue probed the corners of her mouth. Tingling sensations rippled through her, shortening her breath until she felt dizzy. Her hands went up to his arms, anchoring her in a world that was dissolving beneath her feet one frantic heartbeat at a time.
«Whip?» she whispered raggedly.
«That’s it,» he said against her mouth. «Open those soft lips a little more. I have to taste you.»
«Taste me?»
«Yes. Now.»
Whip’s tongue slid into Shannon’s mouth, caressing her, tasting her with a hushed intensity that made her tremble. An answering tremor went through Whip.
Curious, Shannon looked at him. His forehead was creased and his eyes were closed. His cut, bleeding hands held her face as though she were more fragile than a butterfly’s wings. Despite the potent hunger that tightened every muscle in his body, Whip’s mouth only sipped lightly at hers.
Beneath her hands, Whip’s arms felt like steel bands. His muscles were corded and his breath was ragged. He could have taken whatever he wanted from her much more easily than he had subdued Prettyface. Shannon knew it.
And so did Whip.
Yet still he demanded nothing of her. He simply asked, coaxed, mutely pleaded to be allowed into the lush darkness behind her lips.
Shannon sighed and gave Whip what he desired. His tongue glided over hers, coaxing her to touch him in turn. The caress was tantalizing, irresistible, as warm and gentle as sunrise itself.
A small sound came from the back of Shannon’s throat as she understood Whip’s silent message. He was telling her without words how much he wanted her and how careful he would be if she gave herself to him.
The thought of such a tender sharing took the world from beneath Shannon’s feet. Her fingers dug into Whip’s arms as her knees loosened.
«Whip?»
Shannon’s muffled whisper was barely understandable. Whip was tempted to ignore the question in her tone, but didn’t. Despite her previous assurances, he was afraid that fear rather than passion had caused her fingers to clench around his arms.
Reluctantly Whip lifted his head and looked down into Shannon’s dazed blue eyes. When she still didn’t speak, he nuzzled the corner of her mouth with his mustache.
She smiled slightly and kissed the rough silk mustache that was caressing her. Whip eased the tip of his tongue into the corner of her smile. Then he probed between her lips several times, slowly, easing in and out of her warmth, teasing and tasting her lightly, hotly.
Shannon made another throttled sound and shivered.
«What is it?» Whip asked in a low voice. «Are you afraid of me after all?»
She shook her head. While she did, she watched Whip’s mouth, wondering how anything that looked so hard and sharply controlled could feel so soft and wild against her lips.
«I —» Shannon blinked, touched her tongue to the corner of her mouth, and whispered, «I feel dizzy.»
Whip’s smile was dark, swift, very male. Shannon’s eyes were a smoky sapphire that sent tongues of desire stabbing through him. His own eyes became a smoldering quicksilver as he watched Shannon lick her lips again.
«Dizzy,» Whip repeated huskily.
She nodded and touched the tip of her tongue uncertainly to her lips.
«Put your arms around my neck and hold on,» Whip said. «I’ll make sure you don’t fall.»
As Whip spoke, he drew Shannon’s arms around his neck. The movement brought her up on tiptoe and pulled her against his body. Her breath came in with a soft, ripping sound that acted on Whip like a shot of whiskey.
«Now we can do this properly,» Whip said.
«What?»
«Lick your lips again, honey girl. I’ll show you.»
Shannon hesitated, then did as Whip asked.
No sooner had Shannon’s tongue touched her lips than Whip bent down and caught her mouth beneath his. His tongue pressed into the moist darkness behind her teeth, caressing her even as he filled her. He felt the hesitation of her body, the quick intake of her breath, and then the trembling pressure of her tongue against his in secret caress.
Whip made a low sound and gathered Shannon even more closely along his body. His tongue began a sultry rhythm of penetration and retreat, return and withdrawal. After a few moments her arms tightened around his neck, lifting her into the kiss.
Without realizing it, Shannon opened her mouth more. She wanted to know every bit of Whip’s mouth, from the satin just behind his lips to the velvet of his tongue. Hungrily she probed the heated darkness that lured her unbearably.
The world spun swiftly around Whip as Shannon give back the deep kiss. His hands went from her shoulders to her thighs in long, slow sweeps. Fingers widespread, he measured the feminine elegance of her back, the lush flare of her hips, the siren call of her breasts pressed more closely against his chest with each stroke of his hands.
When Whip could deny himself no longer, he allowed his hands to slide along Shannon’s ribs until his thumbs met at the bottom of her breastbone. Without warning his hands shifted, cupping soft, taut flesh.
A threadlike groan was dragged from Whip when he discovered that Shannon was even more womanly beneath her men’s clothes than he had guessed. Her softness filled his hands.
Probing, caressing, his thumbs circled Shannon’s sensitive nipples. They blossomed in a rush that sent a fierce answering fire through Whip. Delicately he caught the tips of her breasts between his fingers and squeezed.
Shannon made a high sound of surprise as desire splintered through her, tightening her body, arching it against him in a wild caress. Her nipples had been transformed by Whip’s touch. Now they were hard peaks that stood out proudly against her old flannel shirt, begging for Whip’s hands, his mouth, his passion.
«Honey girl,» he groaned. «You could set fire to stone, and I’m one hell of a long way from stone.»
