Friday, 16 July 2010
Her accusation made Lucky’s hackles rise and his blood boil. "Are you calling me a coward?"
Bridget's chin jutted forward. "Aren't you?"
"Shoot no. I'd stand up to the Devil's top hand any day in the week." That sounded like such a childish, shallow boast. Lucky pointed an index finger in Bridget's direction. "You take that back."
"Why should I when it's as plain as the nose on your face that you and both your brothers are scared silly of your little old aunt."
Lucky's simmering anger exploded into fiery rage. Nobody called Lucky Livingston a coward and got away with it. He moved with lightening speed to stand directly in front of his accuser. Pulling Bridget to her feet, he locked his hands around her shoulders. His intent was to make her take back her degrading remark and to demand that she apologize. That was before he touched her.
Bridget's shoulders straightened. Defiance was written in every of her small taunt body. The fear that trembled in her voice gave lie to her brave declaration. "I'm not afraid of you."
Such defiance, such challenge, and such sweet innocence; Lucky's mind disengaged and his body took command of his senses. He lowered his head and captured her little bee-sting lips in a softly seductive kiss. Under the impact of his sweet assault, her mouth trembled, and then opened, allowing his tongue to enter, probe and plunder. He pulled her into his arms as she melted into his embrace.
After long blissful moments, Lucky broke the embrace, sat on the couch, and pulled Bridget down beside him. He had to stop this before passion slammed reason's door and he was lost forever to the demands of desire. "Maybe I should be afraid of you."
Bridget laid her fingers across her trembling lips. "Why did you do that?"
Old smooth-talking Lucky looked into that sweet, startled face and was as tongue-tied as a schoolboy. Without a second thought, he blurted out the truth. "I don't know, but I wish I hadn't."
Tears sprang to Bridget's eyes. "What a rotten thing to say."
He had messed up again. "I didn't mean it that way."
"What way did you mean it?"
"I didn't mean it at all. Is that good enough?"
Obviously, it wasn't. Tears flooded Bridget's eyes. "Does that mean you didn't mean what you said, or does it mean you didn't mean what you did?"
"It means both. I shouldn't have done what I did and I shouldn't have said what I said about what I did." Lucky shook his head. He was as confused as a goat on a shag rug.
"Then why did you?"
Reason returned slowly and with it came a sobering thought. Why should Bridget complain about him kissing her when she had kissed him back with a vengeance? Lucky smiled. "Did you mean what you did?"
Bridget blinked in surprise. "What did I do?"
Lucky pulled her back into his arms. "This." He brought his lips down on her upturned mouth and kissed her with an expertise that left them both breathless. Leaning back, he smiled, "You meant it."
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