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“Want to fight with me, do you?”
“You’re better than the droid.” She stepped back, began to circle him. “Marginally.”
“And to think some men come home after a day of work and are greeted by their woman.” He rolled up to his toes, and back, glad he’d changed with the idea of a workout. “A smile, a kiss, perhaps a cold drink.” His grin flashed. “How tedious for them.”
She lunged, he countered.
She kicked out, her foot coming within a half-inch of his face. He slapped it away, then swept her standing leg out from under her. She went down, rolled, and was up again in seconds.
“Not bad,” she acknowledged, and scored a hit mid-body before their forearms slapped together in a block. “But I was holding back.”
“Can’t have that.”
She came in on a spin—left hook, right cross—that would have knocked his head back if she’d connected. His backhand stopped a hairbreadth from her nose.
With the droid, she’d have pounded and gotten pounded in return. But this—the demand for control—was more challenging. And a hell of a lot more fun.
She got under his guard, flipped him, but when she leaped on the mat to pin him, he was already up again. She had to somersault aside, and came up just enough off balance to give him the opening.
Her breath whooshed out as she hit the mat, flat on her back, with his weight pinning her.
She stared up into his eyes as she got her wind back, lifting a hand so she could trail her fingers through the wonderful mane of black hair that nearly hit his shoulders.
“Roarke,” she murmured, and with a little sigh, tugged his hair to bring his lips to hers.
And when he relaxed, started to sink into her, she scissored her legs, arched, and flipped him over.
She was looking in his eyes again, and grinning as she pressed the point of her elbow lightly to his throat. “Sucker.”
“I do tend to fall for that one, don’t I? Well then, it appears you’ve taken this—” He broke off, winced.
“What? You hurt?”
“No. Just must’ve jammed my shoulder a bit.” He rotated it, winced again.
“Let me take a look.” She eased back, shifting her weight.
And found herself flat on her back under him again.
“Sucker,” he said and laughed when her eyes went to slits.
“Foul.”
“No more foul than the seductive murmur of my name. You’re down, darling.” He touched his lips to the tip of her nose. “Well pinned.” His fingers linked with hers as he held her hands down. “Now I’m going to have you.”
“You think?”
“I do. Victor, spoils, all that. Not going to be a sore loser, are you?” he asked with his mouth rubbing hers.
“Who says I lost?” She arched her hips. “Like I said, you’re better than the droid.” She arched again. “Touch me.”
“I will. Let’s start with this.”
His mouth came down on hers, warm and soft, sliding her into the kiss, deepening it until, once again, she lost her breath.
“It’s never quite enough,” he whispered, trailing his lips over her face, down her throat. “Never will be.”
“There’s always more.”
