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his jaw and cheeks were rough from a day's growth of beard.

He cupped her cheek, caressed her ear and jaw, gazed into her eyes and angled his forehead to touch hers.

Pulling in a breath, he did think and wonder about her. About them. Where this would go.

But the thoughts were quickly diminished when he brought his mouth over hers and gave her a slow and arousing kiss that trapped his heartbeat, causing his breath to come out in a muted hiss. Heat expanded in his lungs. He angled his head to take her parted lips fully, completely. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, danced with hers.

Natalie's body arched to his. His fingers tightened around the curve of her shoulder, pulling her closer as he eased back on the sofa's cushions, taking her with him so that she lay on top of him.

Her arms lifted and fit snugly around his neck as she kept him close. As their tongues touched, discovered, he tasted her warmth, the moist heat in her mouth. Her lips were so soft; they fit perfectly next to his. Exploring, arousing, tempting.

His hands slid down her back, slowly tracing the curves of her waist and hips. He cupped her behind, keeping her next to him. A hard heaviness pooled in his groin.

He wanted far more than to taste her mouth. He imagined what she would be like naked, envisioned the shape of her breasts and curve of her bare waist. The swell of her hips, the patch of hair between her legs.

Raw with need, it took every ounce of control not to undress her.

He could do just this. Kissing. Savor it. Her lips pressed against his. Her tongue sliding over his.

His fingers tingled, he felt her trembling. So it wasn't just him. She was affected, too. This was different, he knew it.

His mouth grazed her soft skin at the corners of her lips. He nipped and sucked her lower lip, teasing. She moaned. He didn't loosen his hold on her, kept her pelvis to his. Hard. Firm. Unrelenting.

He lost himself in his wants, her needs. Kissing. Just kissing.

The enjoyment of it was pure and new. He lost track of time.

When he released her mouth, she gasped for breath and he let her go. She rolled onto her side, tucked her head in the crook of his shoulder and laid her arm over his chest.

"You kiss…good," was all she managed, her breathing choppy.

His every muscle felt taut, tense—but with a pleasure-pain that he held in check.

"You kiss good," he said, a smile on his mouth. He pushed her hair from her forehead, held her tight and tried to slow his breathing down.

"I've never been kissed like that before," she admitted in a wondrous tone.

That broadened his smile. "I'm glad."

"Me, too. Sort of. Makes me want it some more."

He chuckled. "Okay."

She looked at him. "But not right this second. I have to catch my breath… I have to…" She brought a hand to his cheek, touched him. "You are so damn good-looking."

"So are you."

"Oh…God, no. It's you." She licked her lips, sucked on the lower one as if to taste him there. "You're good-looking and young and… what am I doing here?"

"You're relaxing."

"If this is relaxing, I don't ever want to stop."

He smoothed her hair, brought her closer. "Close your eyes. Feel your heartbeat. Remember how it feels to relax."

"Mmm."

Stroking her hair, the shell of her ear, he kept her next to him until the last thing he consciously remembered was the sweet fragrance of roses curling in his lungs, taking him to places he had never been before. Giving him good thoughts to close his eyes to.

Peace and contentment washed over him.

And at last, he slept. Soundly. Deeply.

With Natalie Goodwin in his arms.

Chapter Seventeen

For Here or To Go?

"Austin, stop it…I'm trying to study." Cassie's plea for him to stop nibbling on her ear didn't have much of a threat to it. She liked it when he kissed her like that, but she really was trying to memorize her notes for an art history test.

They were in her dorm room lying side by side on the narrow bed, shoes off and their legs entwined. She wore crew socks and so did Austin; he kept rubbing the top of her foot with his toes.

"But you taste so good," he said, his breath warm against her skin.

"Mmm." Her moan was covered by his mouth over hers and he was on top of her before she could protest.

Their make-out sessions had been getting progressively more carried away. She didn't know how much longer she could hold out. She thought she loved him, maybe not "in love," but she did love him.

She'd only known him a short time, but she'd fallen hard.

She recalled that day at orientation when she'd first seen him. He wasn't her usual type. Tall, thin, quiet in ways she was outgoing. He had spiky hair, a crooked nose and slightly crooked teeth. The clothing style he chose wasn't what she'd ever pick out. Baggy pants, big sweatshirts. But he had a great body underneath. He'd been on the high-school gymnastics team. That "pretty boy" sport didn't seem to fit him, but he'd done well and had taken home a state-championship medal in two events.

He didn't hang with the popular crowd at school, didn't care about that. Which was what drew her to him. She'd never been one of the "It Girls" in high school; thought they were stuck up, and most of them were on birth control and not virgins.

She loved the color of his eyes. They were gray, like the silver lead of a pencil—expressive as if he could create scenes with a glance, a look. She couldn't define it— but when he looked at her, she melted. Just melted.

And when he kissed her…

She kissed him right back.

His tongue entered her mouth, his hand fell on her breast and he squeezed. Then he did that thing with his palm, lower, between her legs. He was the

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