Page 103 of River Wild

His lips press gently to my temple.

To my cheek.

My jaw.

His nose grazes mine.

I feel his warm breath against my lips.

“Carrie.”

I open my eyes. He’s staring straight into mine. Those dark depths of his are wide open to me in a way they’ve never been before.

Then, he closes them.

And presses his mouth to mine.

The softest of touches.

His lips brush over mine.

Once. Twice.

I sigh, parting my lips.

His tongue runs along the seam.

I curl my fingers in his shirt.

“Jesus, Carrie,” he groans.

I feel that groan everywhere.

He cradles my face in those big, talented hands of his and fits his mouth over mine.

My toes curl into the rug beneath my feet.

He kisses me hard and soft, all at the same time.

He kisses me like it’s all he’s ever wanted.

He touches me with reverence.

Like it matters.

Like I matter.

Then, Olive decides to start kicking. And I mean, kicks hard. River feels it.

He chuckles against my lips. “Feisty, like her mama.”

“Her?” I question.

“Definitely.”

His hand slides into my hair, bringing my head to rest against his chest. I wrap my arms around his waist.

“Carrie …” he says in a quiet voice, filled with something that instantly squashes my good feeling.

“Don’t …” I say quietly. “Don’t spoil the moment.”

So, he doesn’t.

He doesn’t say another word.