The Doctor Wore Spurs. Leanne Banks

      “He was an idiot.”

      “How do you know?” she whispered, appalled at the burning sensation behind her eyes.

      “He had you forever, but he let you go,” he said, then his mouth touched hers.

      His lips were warm and searching. She felt the same searching inside her. He brushed against her lips back and forth, coaxing, inviting. Jill opened, and he tasted her and she tasted him. She tugged gently on his bottom lip, and his groan vibrated in all her secret places. He pressed his chest against her and she immediately felt her nipples harden. His hand molded her jaw, caressing her. His tongue teased her, her brain clouded with his musky masculine scent, and she wanted more. She wanted his strong arms around her, his hard body pressed against hers. She wanted the rush and heat of passion. She wanted to make him lose his cocky control, and she wanted him to make her lose hers.