The memory that Wade had Jo tied up upon the grassy plain just the day before never entered his mind. Nor did the fact that a killer with more Federal Gold than most banks still roamed the wild countryside. Sense and place dissolved inside Wade's mind, leaving only the beautiful brunette before him in the darkened hallway. A warmth seemed to glow from Jo's eyes, one met with equal brilliance behind Wade's that threatened to slip shut as their faces drew near. The way Jo's fingers grabbed and crept up his sleeve betrayed every emotion that coursed through Wade's body. His own fingers toyed with the thin fabric shirt Jo wore, reaching slowly until making contact with her lower back. He paused only to hear her question, one which made his lips lift in lopsided amusement.<br/><br/>"You," he answered softly.<br/><br/>The man's word came on whispered breath, venting warm as his kiss gradually grazed the lower region of Jo's plump, upper lip. Unhesitating, the contact came with the careful ease exhibited by a thief in the night. The idea never entered Wade's mind, nor the irony of what his intentions incurred. Wade Tillman chased men through the heat and horrid blaze of gunfire to bring people to trial -- not for justice, but for money. Every man, woman, and child that he captured had either stolen or killed to merit being noticed and pursued; crimes committed in cold blood, and sometimes passion. He finally realized what that must have felt like, because nothing could have deterred Wade from stealing what he felt was rightfully his: Jo. The way she looked up at him struck Wade as pleading, and a balloon in his stomach collapsed at the knowledge that she wanted what he did ... possibly more so. He wouldn't deny either of them a moment longer, and found immediate reward amidst his blissful, newfound damnation.<br/><br/>The slight contact of Jo's lips electrified the man, leaving Wade wanting so much more. The hand at Jo's lower back tugged as his own pelvis advanced to make the contact he had been dreaming of since they first met. It was true -- much as he had tried to deny it, Wade had fallen in love with Josephine Bryson, and she learned of the depth of his feeling when his kisses returned to linger upon making unmistakable, needful contact. They breathed, and Wade could already taste Jo in his mouth. Her air filtered into his lungs, becoming a part of him and that thought made Wade's heart beat faster. Their hips shifted against one another, Wade harboring no intention on retreating and his fingers dragged lightly up Jo's back to mingle into her soft, dark hair.<i>How I've wanted to feel you, </i>Wade released upon enjoying her sensations.<br/><br/>Several toying kisses -- quiet and respectful -- prefaced the kiss that Wade Tillman made to claim his woman. Wade gaze into her entrancing eyes, his own full of want and need. He uttered quietly, devotedly.<br/><br/>"You."<br/><br/>His reiteration came as his fingers reached up to lightly hold her chin in place. A heated urgency lit behind his lips, and a hint of passion flowed in every movement of his mouth as it latched onto hers. The hum he let slip past vibrated their union, and the tips of their tongues flicked in accidental ecstasy. Wade had never kissed a beautiful woman before ... hell, he'd never really kissed a woman. Not in that way. The one whore he bought had kissed his neck, but the boys in his posse warmed his against returning the sentiment lest he wanted canker sores for a month. His mother really didn't count, as they only shared pecks on the cheek -- something that ended when Wade felt he had turned into a man; how he regretted being so unapproachable to the only woman he ever loved. Those were all in the past, as opposed to Jo who remained indelibly in Wade's present. The man fought a war of attention, keeping one ear open for sounds of footsteps, while easily -- too easily -- losing his mind and soul to Jo. He could taste her saliva then, which he swallowed and willingly partook in.<b><i>Mine</i></b>, he declared in the restless privacy of his mind. They broke off, noses skimming along their bridges like a tandem rope that kept them from drifting too far apart. It was Jo's eyes that locked him in place, and he stared at the rancher's daughter, waiting to see if she wanted to continue, leave, or slap him silly.