Should've Been a Cowboy. Vicki Thompson Lewis

made sense again. Kissing her was, he realized, his favorite thing to do. Cancel that. His second favorite.

      She nestled against him and her body aligned with his as if they’d held each other only hours ago instead of months. His body remembered the fullness of her breasts, the curve of her spine, the press of her thighs. Predictably, within seconds of beginning this mistake of a kiss, he wanted to make more mistakes, bigger mistakes, juicier and more satisfying mistakes.