The bourbon made me bold. All that talk of his abstinence had only served as foreplay to my drunken brain. I swung my leg over him and straddled his lap. His hands clamped around my waist to push me away, but it was a minute too late. My mouth was already on his and oh…it was as magical as I’d dreamed. That obscenely sexy pout with its too-full lips was made for my kiss. I traced my tongue along the seam of his lips and coaxed it to open for me. He gave a soft moan and I took advantage of it — covered his mouth with mine and slid my tongue inside. Dios. Never should’ve done that. That sound, the taste of him — malty with beer and bourbon — the rough, tender flesh of his tongue surrendering to mine. His big hands tightened, fingertips pressing deep into my hips.