Romance Writer

His breath whispered against her hair and along the top of her ear. It was warm and felt like the echo of a caress, and River’s body reacted with an instinct as old as her wiccan deities, luring her to move closer to him. To press her chest flush against him.

She wanted to run her nose over his throat and breathe him in, but before she could, he swept away those wispy tendrils of hair around her face with the flat of his hands and tilted her head back.

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Then his breath was on her lips, and he smelled of home and peace and of two souls fused throughout fate. Along with that spicy undeniable aroma of Alex that made River’s legs tremble.

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His lips swept over hers and she wanted to catch them with her own, but he was too fast. She twisted her hands in the soft cotton of his grey t-shirt and tried to pull him closer, but his smile was teasing and with a shake of his head, he said, “Uh uh, witch. Be patient.”

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It made her heart leap that he used the word witch as an endearment.

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“I don’t like being patient,” she said, her voice breathless, then she demanded, “Kiss me.”

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He gave a groan that sounded closer to a growl. “I never can seem to resist you.”

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Good. It was only fair because she felt exactly the same.

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He lowered his head, and then his mouth was on hers. His lips moved in a way so familiar to her now that it was like a brand on her past and her future, and yet still, every time, even after hundreds of kisses, it was as breathtaking as their first.

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River knew that she would always feel this way about him, and not just because he was her soulmate, but because he was Alex. He was her laughter, her joy, her desire, her passion, her contentment and her excitement. She loved him, and he was hers.