“She [Angie] looked at the plate he’d set down. “You’re not hungry?”“I’m starving. Hungrier than I’ve ever been in my entire life.” He’d waited for weeks for the right time and even though it was the worst timing possible, he couldn’t wait a second more.Her jaw dropped as he took her plate from her wobbly grip.“I, uh, am in desperate need of a shower.”“Me too,” he whispered, then leaned in and pressed his mouth to her lush lips. She opened immediately for him, inviting his tongue and more as she sighed and sank closer against him. He thrust deep into her mouth, tasting the spicy sauce, tasting her, and plundered for more as pleasure washed over him like a benediction from heaven.”

“I’ve been dying to know,” he said again, “how you taste.”Oh, hell. Her right hand grabbed the back of his head, and she yanked him down toward her.Their mouths met. Open. Ready. Lips kissed. Tongues licked. And—damn!Yes, she wanted.The control she’d held so tightly began to crack. She jerked in her seat, struggling to press against him. He took her mouth. Tasted her. Tormented her. And she met him. No, she fought him, fought him for more.”

“The next thing she knew, he’d turned her so her back was against one of the wider trees. He stroked the hair back from her jaw and kissed her, his mouth hot and hungry. She returned the intensity, her arms around his shoulders, her fingers in his hair, her body pressed against him as if just that could ease the ache coursing through her. His hands molded her waist, bringing her closer, his tongue stroked between her lips in a rhythm that made every nerve sing.”

“He pulled her close and kissed her the way he’d been wanting to for weeks. There was the smallest of hesitations then she kissed him back, her body straining toward his almost desperately. She tasted of salty tears and need and he tightened his arms around her, wanting to take away the pain he’d caused her, needing to make things right between them.”

“You know what my favorite part was?" he says, stepping closer."Hmm?""We didn't fight. Not once. I hate fighting with you.""I do, too. It seems like a waste of time when..."He leans impossibly closer, holding her gaze. "When?""When we could be enjoying each other's company instead," she whispers. "But you probably don't enjoy my company here lately. I haven't been very nice-"He brushes his lips against hers, cutting her off. They're softer than he ever imagined. And it's not enough. Moving his hand from her jawline to entwine it in her damp locks, he pulls her to him. She tips up on her toes to meet him and as he lifts her from the ground, she folds her arms around his neck. Just as hungry for him as he is for her, she opens her mouth for a deeper kiss, pressing her soft curves into him. And Galen decides there is nothing better than kissing Emma.Everything about her seems made for him. The way her mouth moves in perfect rhythm with his. The way she combs her fingers through his hair, sending a stirring jolt down his spine. The way her cool lips ignite heat through his whole being. She fits in his arms, as if her every curve fills a place on his own body...”

“He pushed up onto his heels and then pulled her up against him, one hand cradling the nape of her neck, the other splayed wide over her back. His mouth came down on hers and right before he kissed her, he muttered, “Fuck, you’re going to drive me insane, I know it.”Then his mouth crushed down onto hers. His taste was different—darker.Her, she realized. He tasted of her.”