“I must think about something else for a while. But then I remember his warn arms and his big strong legs touching mine and how hard and wide his chest was and how hot his kiss was, and I got outside and feed the chickens. They are getting mighty fat.”

“Kiss me," he growled."I shouldn't—""I. Don't. Give. A. Damn."Well hell. My lips touched his—barely. I pulled back and looked at him—unfamiliar, dangerous, and so exciting. I devoured his mouth without thinking. Don't think, just touch. I ran my fingers across his strong shoulders and down his arms. His skin felt hot under my hands, his body hard. He sucked in his abs so I could get into his pants, if I wanted to. I slid one hand over his stomach and under his jeans, touching his hard cock, smiling when he groaned.”

“I stare at his chest. I can't seem to make my eyes move away. When I seen him without his shirt before, back at Hopetown, all I noticed was the scars. But now all I can see is how lean an strong he is. With wide shoulders an arms roped with muscle. He ain't got no hair on his chest, not like Pa an Lugh. My fingers itch to touch it. Find out if his skin feels as smooth as it looks.”

“We kiss again and this time, it feels familiar. I know exactly how we fit together, his arm around my waist, my hands on his chest, the pressure of his lips on mine. We have each other memorized.”

“How about that one? Is that a constellation?" I asked, pointing upward. We were down in the small valley where the truck was parked. Alex sat leaning against a rock; I was between his legs with my back against his chest, his arms around me as we stared up at the stars."Yeah, that's the Seven Sisters, the Pleiades." He bent his head, and I caught my breath as his warm mouth nuzzled at my neck. I hadn't gotten even remotely used yet to how good it felt to be kissed by Alex."It's so sexy how you know all of this," I said when I could speak again."Yeah?" I heard the grin in his voice. "I know the summer constellations, too. Will that get me bonus kisses?""I think it might, actually.”

“I still remember "the mighty Cros" visiting the ranch in his van. That van was a rolling laboratory that made Jack Casady's briefcase look like chicken feed. Forget I said that! Was my mic on?”