A Midsummer Night's Kiss (Howertys #1)

Chapter 13: A Midsummer Night's Kiss

Dear Diary,
I was wrong... So very, very wrong.

The moment his lips brushed against hers, Angel knew that kissing Nathaniel Howerty would be nothing like her previous experiences. Even though their lips were barely touching, her entire body hummed in sudden awareness.

She leaned into the kiss, raising her hands to bury her fingers in the soft hair at the back of his head. With a groan, he moved his hands away from her face and slid them down along her back to pull her closer, pressing her intimately against his lean frame. Her soft curves fit perfectly against the hard planes of his body, and the closeness sent heat coursing through her.

When his tongue gently caressed her lower lip, she allowed him entry without hesitation. He took immediate advantage, deepening the kiss, igniting something that had lain dormant deep inside. It was intoxicating and frightening at the same time. She'd never felt like this. This need to be close to a man, to feel his lips on her. His hands. She never wanted it to stop. Timidly she tried to return the kiss, causing a low sound at the back of his throat, and he pulled her even closer, grinding his hips against hers.

A spear of pure pleasure shot from the junction of her thighs throughout her body, and the force of it surprised her so much that she tore her mouth from his and opened her eyes to stare at him. He stared back at her, still holding her close, his eyes impossibly dark in the dusk. His breath was laboured, just like hers, and for a moment she could do nothing but stare at the man who had just given her the best kiss of her life. So this was what everyone raved about. Now she finally understood.

Finally, he released her, and she stumbled back. Touching her lips with trembling fingers, she marvelled at the contrast of the cool silk of her gloves compared to the hot pressure of Nathaniel's kiss.

"I beg your pardon," he mumbled, his eyes not leaving her.

He was so handsome where he stood, the semi-darkness of the evening making him seem like some dark, sensual spirit of a maiden's dream. Her body still hummed from the unfamiliar sensations and feelings, and she could not find her voice. The silence seemed to frustrate him, and he ran a hand through his black hair, mussing it up even more than before.

"Christ," he muttered. "I never meant to..." He groaned. "I'm so sorry, Angel. That went too far."

"I... It's fine," she whispered.

"I don't know what came over me," he continued, sounding angry with himself. "I was only going to give you a quick peck."

"It's fine," she said again, her voice a little louder this time.

"No, it's not. I frightened you."

She smiled wryly. "No. You just surprised me a little."

He reached out to touch her face. "Even so, I apologise. I took advantage of the situation when you had asked me for a simple favour."

"I didn't mind," she admitted, and somehow managed to meet his eyes without blushing.

They stared at each other for a moment, and she wished he would kiss her again. She wanted to experience it one more time. When he leaned closer, she thought she'd got her wish, until he quickly pulled away and took a few steps away. With a curse, he turned his back to her.

"Nathaniel?"

"Please go back inside," he said, his voice hoarse.

"Are you all right?" She wasn't sure what was happening. Why wouldn't he look at her? Standing straight as a board, he looked uncomfortable, and she wanted to ease his tension. Torn between wanting to go to him and wanting to run from the unfamiliar sensations he provoked in her, she moved towards him and reached her hand out to touch his arm. He whirled around and stared at her, his dark eyes burning.