It wasn't a first kiss for either of them, but it was the first kiss between them. A kiss that should never have happened yet she didn't want it to end.
Charlie wasn't even sure who initiated it. One moment found them engaging in their normal not-quite-friendly, yet not-exactly-hostile bickering. The next found her pressed back against the rickety modified truck chassis, her hands trapped between them.
Shoving Monroe away was the smart course of action and it was Charlie's intention, until her eyes locked with his. The depths of his azure gaze held her mesmerized; she felt a shiver run down her spine at their intensity.
He must have felt her reaction, she realized, as she watched a slow grin spread across his face, framed by ridiculously sexy dimples. There should be a rule against a simple rearranging of facial muscles producing such a transformation, from scowling psychopath to a walking orgasm in two seconds flat.
It had a way of screwing with a woman's resolve, as heat and want rushed to her core.
"Bas…"
The brush of his lips against hers brought whatever she was about to say to an end, but it didn't silence her. She moaned her response as she opened her mouth to him, allowing him freedom to explore her, taste and tease her.
She wasn't sure how long the kiss lasted; it seemed like forever and like an instant all at once. But when they finally broke apart, both panting and breathless, she found her arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers buried in his untamable curls.
Stepping out of his arms, pulling his hands out from under her tank top, was an exercise in will power until now she didn't know she possessed. His hands reached for her briefly, then dropped to his sides, fisted into the fabric of his trousers.
"We won't make it to Willoughby this way," she called over her shoulder, as she climbed up onto the driver's perch. She thought she heard him mutter something, but chose to ignore it, even if she could no longer ignore her attraction to the man sitting beside her.