that he was forced to drop his hand.
Cool, common sense was the order of the day, she reminded herself. He was in trouble—that was the reason her vision had brought her to him. She didn’t yet know why, but she doubted fate had reunited her with Jackson Colton just so she could get a reminder of how a man’s touch could stir her. She’d found that out years ago. That knowledge had left her with a bruised heart. She wasn’t likely to ever forget that experience.
She shoved the key into the door’s lock, then swung it open. Before she could slide behind the wheel, Jackson’s hand settled on her shoulder.
“Cheyenne?”
She closed her eyes for an instant, then turned to find him standing only inches away. His face was bathed in a mix of moonlight and shadows; the woodsy scent of his cologne drifted to her on the cool, night air.
“Yes?”
“I’m glad we had the good luck to run into each other.” As he spoke, he ran a fingertip down her jawline.
The lightning response of her body to his touch sent a wariness through her that had her wanting to back away. Even if she chose to retreat, it wasn’t an option, she realized. She was trapped with him in the small V formed by the side of the car and the open door.
Her breath shuddered. Her gift of sight, not luck, had brought them together tonight. Destiny would guide them from here. “I enjoyed talking with you, Jackson.”
“Talking was good.” His fingers closed over one of her hands. “At my uncle’s party, I wondered if your skin felt as soft as it looks. Tonight I found out it does. Now I’m wondering if your skin tastes as rich as it feels.” Moonlight glittered in his gray eyes when he pressed his lips deep in the center of her palm. “It does,” he murmured.
Her heart shot straight up and lodged in her throat. “I don’t think…” Her voice trailed off when his lips brushed across hers, soft as a whisper.
“You don’t think what?” he asked, touching his mouth to hers again with a lightness that had the blood pounding in her head.
She had ignored her physical needs for so long, she had forgotten what it was to want a man. One man. “I…don’t know…what to think.”
“Me, either.” One of his hands slid beneath her heavy braid to cup the base of her neck. His fingers felt cool and strong against her heated flesh. He lowered his lips to within a whisper of hers. “Why don’t we forget about thinking and just let ourselves feel?”
Softly, slowly, his mouth roamed over hers, sending thick, liquefying pleasure seeping into her. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her hands went limp; in the recesses of her mind she heard the jingle of metal when her keys hit the pavement.
“You stir something in me, Cheyenne,” he murmured as his mouth took hers, warm and coaxing. His fingers stroked the back of her neck. She didn’t need a vision to see the teasing image of what his hands could do to her body.
Her arms moved upward; her fingers locked tight on his shoulders. Beneath her hands she felt the bunch of muscles that veered toward a hard, dangerous strength. Passion came to life inside her like a fire that had been smoldering beneath cold ash. Her lips parted beneath his, opening, accepting, urging.
His arm slid around her waist, drawing her closer until she fit tightly against his hard, lean body. His mouth became more greedy, taking her deeper, demanding equal response. Her legs trembled, and blood swam so fast in her veins that she could hear the roar of it in her head. A low moan sounded in her throat while reason slipped against the pull of need.
Desire gripped her as if it had claws. His mouth continued its assault on hers, seducing her senses, peeling away the layers of caution that guarded her secrets.
An alarm sounded somewhere in the recesses of her dazed mind.
The will to survive smothered the yearning for pleasure. She hadn’t come here tonight to be kissed. She was here because the man whose mouth was currently ravishing hers was in trouble and fate had brought her to him.
“Stop.” She dug her fingers into his shoulders. “Jackson, we need to stop.”
“Why?” His voice was a raw whisper as his mouth trailed down her jaw, nuzzled her throat.
“I… Because.” She flattened her palm against his chest, forced him back. Breathing jerky, she stared at him while every pulse point in her body hammered. “Just…because,” she managed in a hoarse whisper.
“Well.” He expelled a ragged breath. “I guess that’s as good a reason as any.”
“I…” She waved a hand vaguely. “We don’t even know each other.”
His smile was slow and potent. “Seems to me we’re working on changing that.”
When he reached to touch her cheek, she jerked her head back. “I have to go. Now. Right now.”
“I didn’t mean to come on so strong.”
He bent down, scooped up her keys, then stood with them in his hand while his concerned eyes skimmed over her face, lingering on each feature. “It’s just that you’ve been in my thoughts for so long. I still can’t quite believe you’re here tonight.” He handed her the keys, his fingers sliding against hers. “With me.”
She stared into his face, the shadowy lights of the far-off street lamps emphasized his ruthless good looks. She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip, bringing his taste back to flood her mouth…and a swell of fresh desire into her system that made her legs go weak all over again.
“Good night.” It didn’t matter that her voice was unsteady. What mattered was that she get into her car before her wobbly legs gave out.
“Good night.” The eyes that had looked so rock-hard in her vision were now the color of smoke. “I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”
“Yes.” She was reasonably sure her system would have settled by then.
It wasn’t until she pulled the Mustang out of the lot that she released the breath she’d been holding. Whatever trouble Jackson Colton was in, it had brought her to him. Until she knew why, she needed to keep a clear head. Then, when the knowledge came, she would be capable of putting two rational thoughts together. Unlike she had been while wrapped in Jackson’s arms.
When she turned onto the winding coast road she flexed her fingers against the steering wheel, pleased that her hands no longer trembled. Her breathing had evened. Finally.
Before this night, only one man had ever rocked her senses and taken her so swiftly toward the edge of control. After she’d given herself to him and told him about her gift, he’d looked at her as if she were crazy. Even now, the memory of the names Paul called her had her blinking back tears.
Holding a part of yourself back wasn’t deception, she reminded herself. It was self-preservation—as she’d learned through hard experience.
With Jackson, she would let fate take her hands and lead her.
And she would hold her secrets close.
Three
Jackson knew the drive along the dark coastal highway should have calmed him, helped his thoughts steady. Instead, his mind was as restless as the sea that churned against the ragged cliffs edging the shoreline.
How many women had he kissed? Slept with? He neither knew nor cared. He’d indulged in nights of mutual pleasure, then walked away unscathed. Tonight he and Cheyenne had shared a few kisses, nothing more. They’d been exceptional kisses, but kisses all the same.
Why, then, while he held her in his arms, had he been hit with aching desire when he had expected to feel the usual careless, carefree passion? The memory of her hot, unrestrained mouth pressed against his crept into his mind like a seductive phantom. He wanted her taste again. Wanted to hold her. Wanted her. Just her.
“Dammit.”