When Honey Got Married Read Online Free PDF

reward for that restraint came in Grace’s sigh as she melted a little more into him. There was no way she could be un aware of what she was doing to him. Her head was against his chest, where she could hear and feel the way his pulse had kicked up, and what was rapidly becoming the most raging hard-on of his entire life would be impossible for her to miss.
    Grace’s hand relaxed on his shoulder, her fingers smoothing over the muscles there, and each touch just stoked the fires more. His hand slid lower down her back to where the tank she wore had ridden up to expose a strip of flesh. He simply had to touch her, slipping his hand under the hem and splaying his fingers across the warm skin.
    Grace made a small sound—of pleasure? Protest?—and her fingers tightened enough for him to feel the bite of her nails.
    He had no idea how long they stayed like that, but when Grace began to stir, he realized the music had stopped. He’d been enjoying the dance, not just the anticipation of what might come next, and he was oddly loath to have it end.
    Her grip relaxed and she finally lifted her head to look at him.
    The sight nearly sent him to his knees. Cheeks flushed, eyes dark and sultry, that lush mouth only inches from his.
    “That was—”
    He didn’t let her finish. He’d fought as long as he could, and he needed to taste her more than he needed air. Whatever she was going to say was lost as he gave in and captured her lips.

Chapter Three
    Grace wasn’t actually surprised. A kiss was the next step in the natural progression of events. Food, wine, dance—all the hallmarks of a seduction in progress. She’d had every inch of him pressed against her, and his body’s intent had been very clear. She’d let herself enjoy it—telling herself it was only a healing victory for her teenage self and the final proof of how far she’d come from Gracie Lee—but the truth that this was far more about what she wanted in the here and now had dawned on her a minute too late.
    She wanted to blame the wine, but the truth was, she wanted that kiss, wanted to taste and feel more of this man, and when Beau lowered his head to hers, she’d met him halfway.
    And then she couldn’t think at all.
    The kiss sent a shock through her. While she’d pictured this moment, this kiss, a thousand times in her adolescent fantasies, the reality was…just more. Beau had been frozen in her mind at eighteen, but this was not the kiss of an eighteen-year-old boy.
    His mouth was hot and hungry and instantly addictive, and the kiss slammed into her with a force that left her knees week and her blood singing in her veins. It was demanding without aggression, easily coaxing a response that had her body pressed against his, wanting more. Wanting it all.
    As if he knew, the hands splayed across her back tightened, holding her steady, and the heat from those hands seared her skin like a brand. The gasp of shock turned to a hiss of pleasure as Beau’s lips moved to her neck, her collarbone, the sensitive skin of her throat. The warm softness of his lips soothed the rasp of his whisker stubble, and the mix of sensations left her sagging in his arms, struggling to stay upright.
    Then the wall was against her back, supporting her. The weight and pressure of Beau’s hips and chest kept her there as his hands tangled in her hair. He was an assault on her senses—the heat from his body, the scents of Cajun spice and vanilla on his skin, the taste of wine on his tongue as it slid over hers like a wicked promise.
    She was drowning in the sensations, and it was bliss. Oh, there was still a shred of her rational self shouting protests in a corner of her mind— You have to work tomorrow. With him. This is completely unprofessional. You barely know him. Remember how he humiliated you? Where’s your self-respect? —but they were all-too-easily ignored and dismissed by the feeling of his fingers digging into her hip, the labored sound of his breath, and the pounding