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"No, thanks."
"When you left the hospital, you said you were going home to sleep."
"I was. But when we got there, Mother said we all should eat. Dodge volunteered to go to the store and get things for brunch. I volunteered to come and extend you an invitation to join us." She took a breath, knowing she was going for broke but willing to take the risk. "But inviting you to brunch was just an excuse. The real reason I came is because I want you to hold me."
It took him only one wide step to reach her. He pulled her against him and wrapped his strong arms around her. And for the longest time, that was enough, just being held. Then he tipped her chin up and kissed her with surprising gentleness. When he pulled away, he searched her eyes as though asking permission and must have seen in her gaze what he was looking for.
Dipping his head, he rubbed his lips against hers, then their open mouths fused hungrily. She slid her arms beneath his. Her hands met at his spine and held him fast against her. They shifted the angle of their heads several times but didn't break the kiss until he pulled away and pressed his lips against her neck just beneath her ear.
"Can we continue this with our clothes off?"
She made a humming sound that he took for a yes. Reaching for her hand, he led her from the kitchen, through the house, and into a spacious bedroom. She was impressed that the bed was made, but it wasn't for long. He flung back the covers, then returned to her and immediately began undoing the buttons on her blouse. He unclasped the front fastener of her bra and pushed aside the cups. He took her breasts in his hands as he kissed her again.
Lips, tongue, fingertips. They made her breathless, helpless, until she didn't even realize that the small sounds filling the quiet room were coming from her own throat. He continued caressing her with his mouth while his hands reached beneath her skirt. One splayed over her ass, the other slid into the front of her panties.
She whimpered, because he knew exactly what to do and how to do it well. The slip-slidey play of his fingertips soon had her gasping. "Stop. Ski. Stop."
"No," he murmured, his lips moving against her nipple.
It felt too good. The pressure of his fingers, the barely-there caress of his thumb. She began rocking against his hand, riding it. Urged on by his fervently whispered encouragement, she let go of all control and allowed the pleasure to surge through her. Tidal waves of it battered her until she was limp and clinging to him.
He eased her back onto the bed and smoothed the hair off her face. He kissed her lips softly, then removed each article of her clothing. Never breaking eye contact, he stood at the end of the bed and peeled off his T-shirt. He unbuttoned his jeans with a practiced hand, then pushed them down and stepped out of them.
He'd been wearing nothing underneath them, and that incredibly sexy sight caused a purling sensation deep inside her. He crawled over her until he was levered above her, bracing himself on stiff arms. His frank study of her body made her feel hot with shyness, but she wanted to touch him, so she did. His eyes closed and his breath became rough and loud, then hissed through his teeth when her thumb glanced the most sensitive spot and came away damp.
When he pressed inside her, she bit her lower lip to keep her moan fractionally contained. His arms relaxed. She welcomed his weight all along her body. Instinctually she pulled her knees back to take more of him, and he responded not only with his body but with a rumbled litany of vulgarities--the blunt, elemental language of a man totally absorbed in the moment, in mating.
Ski was on his back, holding Berry close. They lay with legs entwined. He was relaxed, but his body continued to buzz with sensations that occasionally sparked and sizzled along his nerve endings. No wonder. The object of his lust was naked, in his bed, and she was incredible.
"I love that you kissed me."
Her husky voice sent a dart of renewed desire through him. He turned his head to look at her.
"During it, I mean. That was very nice. Sexy, absolutely. But also"--she lifted her face to look at him--"awfully sweet. Special."
It had been meaningful to him, too. Never before had he kissed a woman, really deeply kissed her, while actually fucking her. Berry probably wouldn't believe him if he told her that. It was too soon to be telling her things like that. For that matter, it was too soon to be feeling things like that for a woman he'd met only four days ago. But that's how it was.
&nbs
p; Looking at her now, he realized how goddamn great it would be to wake up every morning for the rest of his life and see her face on the other pillow. Thinking about it gave him an ache deep in his gut. Felt like yearning.
"Tell me," she said, "did you learn that wicked language in the Army?"
"Oh hell," he groaned. "What'd I say?"
"You don't remember?"
"I was preoccupied. If my language was offensive, I apologize."
She gave him a naughty smile. "I kinda liked it."
"Hmm?"
"Hmm."
They kissed lazily. Eventually she was the one to pull back. "Did you also get your scar from the Army?"
He looked down at the raised, jagged line along his thigh. Well-trained surgeons had tried to clean it up, make it less unsightly, but it still looked like his flesh had been pried open with a rusty, old-fashioned can opener and then sutured with barbed wire. "I should have warned you."
