She wanted more for him. Wanted more for herself.

When she pushed against his hold, trying to sit up, his arms fell away from her, fal ing back onto the thin mattress. He made a noise of weary resignation. “Fine. Better?”

“Yes.” Before she could wuss out or lose her nerve entirely she whipped her shirt off over her head, tossed it out of reach.

There. Done. No turning back. She could control this. He was putty in her hands. The ultimate power of whipping out your tits, it got them every time. As ancient as Adam and Eve with her dropping the fig leaf. Absolutely perfect. There would be no heartbreak. No losses. She felt powerful sitting astride him, safe. Shoulders back, br**sts thrust forth.

Perfect.

And Daniel’s eyes bugged out of his head in a most gratifying way.

You would have thought she was in French cut lace, as opposed to some nice sensible dark cotton that had been washed a hundred times.

His hands flew to her h*ps and held tight, not in an

“I have to have my hands on you ” fashion. It felt closer to a “don’t you dare

disappear on me” grip. The look he gave her was mostly lust, but desperation tinged the edges. Shit, she couldn’t be anybody’s world.

Handing over her heart to him couldn’t happen, certainly not yet. When he looked at her like that, though, how could she hold back?

Emotions were slippery things. Her grip on them might be more tenuous than she had imagined.

Maybe this could have waited for a better time.

No.

“I’m sick of being afraid. Daniel …” All of a sudden the world tumbled. It happened so fast her head went woozy. Her back was against the mattress and Daniel loomed over her, his big body shaking with tension. Those blue eyes of his blazed with some internal fire.

Her heart stuttered in her chest.

Maybe, just maybe, she had well and truly bitten off more than she could chew.

CHAPTER TEN

Holy shit, he was blowing it.

Ali blinked rapidly, eyes vague and confused. Daniel held himself perfectly still, resisting the urge to grind himself against her. Almost.

“You okay?” he enquired, heart racing, sweat beading on his forehead, running down his spine. Fuck. He would shake himself apart at this rate.

And he had scared her when she was being so damn brave. It made his teeth hurt. Shove a gun in his face, no problem, but risk herself with him? There was real fear, directly beneath him, skin gleaming in the moonlight, pupils dilated. “Babe?”

She gave a tight nod and shifted beneath him. In his great and mighty quest to get close and closer he was probably squishing her.

Maybe she couldn’t answer him because he wasn’t letting her breathe.

He took more weight onto his elbows but remained plastered against her. He couldn’t deny himself. The press of her br**sts against his chest and the way her h*ps cradled him blew what remained of his mind. No one else got to him this way. Every smooth move in him had left the building.

The way her thighs were willingly spread to take his body sent a fresh surge of blood heading straight for his dick. He was a goner.

And again with the no grinding rule. No matter how tempting. God help him if she changed her mind now. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

She did not convince him.

Shit, if he said the wrong thing, she might put her shirt back on. He didn’t know if he could take it. He might cry, and have his very own panic attack. “I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to flip you like that.”

She swallowed, relaxed a bit beneath him. “You, ah … kind of took me by surprise.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. Sorry.”

“I only took off my shirt, Daniel. The bra isn’t even all that revealing,” she replied, cool as can be, plush mouth set all prim and proper. “If al it takes for you to lose your cool is the hint of hard ni**les then I’m concerned on your behalf.”

“Shit. Say hard ni**les again.”

Her body vibrated beneath him with soft laughter. “No.”

He groaned, lowered his face so they were nose to nose, staring at each other. Each, perhaps, a little freaked out. Her hair had escaped the ponytail and lay spread across his sleeping bag. He rubbed a strand between his fingers, soft and silken. “God, you are so beautiful.”

Ali’s eyes skittered off, nervous with his praise.

“Say, thank you,” he prompted.

“Thank you.”

“Say, kiss me.”

A smile curved her perfect mouth. He saw stars, dots dancing through his field of vision. This woman made his knees weak. Thank God he wasn’t standing.

“Kiss me,” she said.

“Whatever you want.”

Daniel angled his head, brushed his lips over hers, getting the feel for her. He eased her into it, taking it nice and slow, making up for his earlier bad behavior. Sweetly, lightly, he licked at her lower lip, a nibble here and there. He was a man determined. She would never hesitate to throw herself at him ever again. Throwing her clothes to the wind would be the norm. He was a man with a plan to woo.

Hal elujah.

And the plan went straight out the window when she gave a growl, shoved her fingers into his hair and her tongue into his mouth.

His dick kicked against his zipper and he gave up, ground himself against her. He moved his weight onto one arm, all the better to scoop up an ass cheek and grope to his heart’s content. She had the nicest ass. Her long legs wrapped around him. He could spend hours with her doing just this. Days. Sucking on her tongue, drawing her in, giving her absolute access to him then taking the same and, oh, yes. She gave.

And then some.

Kissing her was something he could see himself doing for a good, long time.

Daniel licked at her, stroking her tongue with his own. He explored.

Her hands trailed down his back. Pulled at his t-shirt.

She broke off the hot and heavy kiss to drag it over his head.

“Daniel,” she panted, palms smoothing over his ribs. Her ni**les poked at his chest through the thin material of her bra. “Your body is beautiful.”

“Glad you approve. Let’s lose the bra.” He rolled them onto their sides, then attacked the clasp on her back and peeled the straps down her shoulders. She shrugged it off, tossing it to the wild blue yonder.

Sweet heavens her br**sts were gorgeous, generous. They filled his hands like a dream. Alabaster pale against the tan of his fingers, ni**les beaded hard against his palms. She was a f**king feast.

“Pants,” she said. “Hurry.”




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