Page 61 of Missile Strike

“You are one of the bravest people I know, Bella. Most people who’ve been through what you have would have retreated from the world. You’ve forged your own life, your own career on your terms.”

“You’re wrong,” she breathed, though a traitorous part of her wanted desperately to believe him.

She covered his hand with hers, trapping his warmth against her skin.

His eyes darkened.

If she could live her life with no fear, what would she do?

The answer sat right in front of her.

Bracing a shaky palm on his shoulder, she leaned in. Pressed her lips to his.

Soft.

Masculine.

When he didn’t move but didn’t push her away, she summoned the courage to trace the seam of his lips with her tongue.

He let out a soft grunt and opened for her.

Emboldened, she explored his mouth, tasting beer and a trace of mint he must have popped into his mouth after the pizza.

His fingers slid beneath her shirt, pulling her against him. He joined the kiss, using his tongue and lips to steal her soul.

Danny kissed like it was his favorite thing to do in life, and he’d studied the art extensively. She’d hoped youth and inexperience had colored her memories, but no one had come close to making her this needy with just a kiss.

Her grip on his shoulder tightened as she cupped his jaw and swung a leg over his thighs, straddling him.

He shifted beneath her, the hard length of him pressing into the vee between her legs.

Liquid heat flooded her sex.

She moaned.

The sound seemed to snap Danny’s restraint. Strong arms wrapped around her, and suddenly she was beneath him, pressed into the couch cushions. His mouth traced her jaw and neck, alternating between gentle kisses and sharp little bites that made her shiver.

A hand closed over her breast.

Need filled her. She arched, rubbing herself against him, uncaring that she was violating her own boundaries where he was concerned.

Danny tore his mouth from hers.

“Bella.” His voice was a guttural rasp in her ear. “If we don’t stop now, I’m going to fuck you, right here on this couch.”

Her nipples tightened beneath his palms.

He could make her forget everything but the rush of pleasure she knew only he could give her.

Then he stilled. His head lifted.

Guilt.

Regret.

The emotions tangled in his expression doused her libido like a bucket of cold water.

She wouldn’t be his regret.