by Sharon Kull

Created on: December 19, 2008

Excerpt from: The Woman Nobody Wanted.

Slowly reaching out, resting a hand gently on her shoulder, his head tilted, and a feeling of pride overcame previous doubt. Moving in for a brief kiss, Lane found his lips involved in a lock that he was powerless to fight against.

Misty whimpered as their bodies pressed close and shivers of anticipation leaped in. There didn't seem to be any rational explanation for the way she felt. Five years of believing that Lane Conder had all but murdered her parents, and his own, crumbled into nothingness. Deliberately tampering with brakes took a demented mind and cold-blooded heart. The man kissing her so thoroughly, absolutely didn't fit into either category. A life taking accident was just that, an accident. What he had told her about the accident suddenly rang true. So did the rush of affection she was now experiencing for him even though she'd only known him a few days. Most of the time he hadn't been anywhere around her. Even though she surely did not completely understand her behavior, and pushing back repercussions, floodgates of longing opened up. Misty was ready to give herself to this man.

Lane was driven by eons of instinctive desire, possessing the willing female was all that mattered. Opinions against her, because of her willingness to give up what should by all rights be a cherished infant, were mentally shoved into a securely locked chamber. With that, blood rapidly reached the boiling point, breathing became ragged and absolutely nothing else in the Universe mattered except taking what he suddenly so desperately needed. He wanted to strip away her clothing, only his fingers had become all thumbs? Or had the garments been sewn on her? Where the hell were the buttons on her blouse? More importantly, where the hell was the zipper on her pants? How the hell could he caress a fiery trail along her silky skin, if he couldn't get that skin naked?
Misty wished he'd quit groping her and yank her pullover blouse over her head, or slide up her denim skirt. Actually, she wanted him to do both. At least his questing lips were kissing her breath away, so she eagerly gave tic for tac.

Lane pressed for more body contact, which further hampered his effort to get her naked as quickly as possible, and before his own body got so fired up it would become a moot point.

Moaning softly, Misty quivered in anticipation when Lane scooped her into his arms, crushing her against his muscular chest. This was a delicious experience, yet there hovered

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