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She was staring.
Stop staring.
“Mia.” There it was—her name in those growly tones again. Now she just had to have her way with him. Reaching out a hand, she traced the cut lines of his abdomen. How was she supposed to stay hands off when he looked like this?
“You’re playing with fire.”
She’d always been one of the boys. She loved her feminine side, but she was also an adrenaline junkie. Growing up as a younger sister with a host of older brothers and male cousins, it was either find some girls to play with—or keep up with the boys. She’d chosen option B but, when she was close to Tag like this, she felt impossibly female. They fit together somehow. Or maybe it was just sexual chemistry.
Honestly, she didn’t really care.
“Come, play with me.” Was that her voice, all low and throaty? She stood up and backed away, hoping he’d follow.
He took her up on her offer, his hands skimming up and down her back, the muscles in his thighs bunching as he walked her backward. She had a moment to wonder where he was taking her, then her back met the wall. Naughty. He held her there, or she let him pin her in place. It was all part of the same sexy package as he kissed her and kissed her, his fingers threading through hers.
Oh, yeah. An animal whuffled softly on the couch. The boxer, she thought through the haze of desire heating her up.
“Tell me you’re feeling better.” He leaned into her, staring into her eyes like he could read the answer there.
“Make me feel better.”
“We shouldn’t do this.” He brushed his mouth over hers, though, so he couldn’t possibly mean the words. Maybe it was a guy thing. Or a Tag thing. She really didn’t care, not now when she ached to have his body on hers. In hers.
“It can be our secret,” she said urgently, just in case he was feeling gun-shy. Or recalcitrant. Or anything else that would stop them from doing this. “No one has to know.”
“Mia.” Her name came out part laugh, part moan. He rested his forehead against hers.
“Are you as good as I remember?” The words flew out of her mouth, and, funny, she didn’t want to take them back. She was actually okay with hooking up with him and letting the whole world know about it. This time, they weren’t both serving in the military where the question of rank—and who outranked who—got in the way. This time, they were alone in his apartment and she was already half-dressed.
She wanted him. Badly. That was one secret she wouldn’t be keeping. She wasn’t sure who kissed who first, but Tag groaned, low and rough, his mouth devouring hers. His hands gripped her waist and she let him. Hell, her hands were all over him, too, dragging him toward her until she had his big, hard body flush with hers. He groaned again, so she hooked a finger into the waistband of his sweats and inched him closer.
Perfect. His erection was warm and hard, proof she wasn’t alone in feeling this crazy, intense chemistry. Needing more, she pressed her front against his, rocking slowly, deliciously, against the thick ridge. His heart banged against his ribs, and she could feel each pounding note in her own chest. Having sex with Tag was insane, but he made her feel alive, and maybe that was the real reason she was climbing his big, beautiful body. She’d come too close to dying to not want to live now.
“How good are you at keeping secrets?”
She was the best. She’d kept secret the loneliness and the need. The desire for someone to connect with who would not only understand her but would love her. Tag wasn’t offering love, but he was offering the next best thing. He was hot and sexy and, right now, perfectly happy for her to use him.
“I’m the best you’ll ever have, so kiss me,” she rasped, cupping his face between her hands and pulling his mouth back to hers. She didn’t want words. She wanted action.
His bark of laughter was muffled by their kiss, but he seemed more than willing to oblige, she thought happily. He also didn’t appear to mind her orders, although he seemed to interpret them his own way. He pushed a leg between hers, and a bright pulse of pleasure shot through her.
Wanting more, she wrapped a leg around his waist, savoring the intimate angle. When she ran her hands over his chest, his heart pounded beneath her fingertips, their ragged breathing all she heard. He fisted the hem of her T-shirt, the fabric bunching up in his grip as he pulled the cotton up.
The next moment, he was sliding down her body, taking her bikini bottom with him.
Play it safe.
Anticipation zinged through her, as if there was a direct connection between the panties he dragged down her legs and other places. His thumbs brushed the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. If they were having sex—reunion sex, fling sex, sex-up-against-a-wall sex—she was all in. Her bikini bottom hit the ground around her ankles, and she stepped out of it, toeing the fabric away.
