So very close.
Fliss fought to harness her galloping heart as one hand still held her wrist as the other brushed up her body to cup her ribcage, his thumb grazing the underside of her breast whilst only barely touching.
And then, leaning forward, he brushed her lips with his own.
A small squeak escaped her lips.
‘Oh.’
She was pretty sure she’d never squeaked in her life.
The heady mix of citrus and leather intensified and Fliss couldn’t stop herself from wondering what his skin might taste like, how it would feel to graze her body against his. Her breasts felt strangely heavy, aching at the idea. But that was nothing compared to the flames licking around other parts of her body. It was like nothing she recognised.
Sex before had always been pleasant but perfunctory. She had a feeling pleasant was the last adjective a woman would use when describing sex with the Colonel. Her body shivered suddenly at all the adjectives she could imagine.
‘What are you doing?’ she murmured.
‘I’ve no idea,’ he admitted, running his thumb over her bottom lip, and then chasing it with his tongue. ‘I just know I keep trying to resist you but then I find myself crossing the line I’ve always drawn in my head.’
Molten heat bubbled up inside her. The idea of pushing a man as virile as this over any line was exhilarating. Could he really want her that badly? It offered an odd sense of power. Almost a validation as a woman. And right now that was something she was sorely lacking.
Frightened of talking herself out of it, Fliss abruptly closed the gap between them. His evident arousal let her know in no uncertain terms just how badly he wanted her. Fire whipped through her and she shifted against him, hearing the moan in the back of his throat as he lifted his hand to cradle the back of her neck, his other hand cupping her backside as he pressed her even more tightly against him.
Instinctively, she pa
rted her legs slightly, rocking against him, revelling in his low groans and her own soft sighs. And then he slipped his lips from hers, kissing along her jawline to the dip beneath her ear as his hand dropped from her neck to her breast, cupping it in one solid palm as he raked a thumb over the nipple. Even through her uniform it sent another hot stab rushing to her core. But she wanted so much more.
‘Colonel...’
‘Given the circumstances,’ he murmured, his words trailing over her lips, ‘I think calling me Ash might be more appropriate.’
‘Ash...’ She rolled the name around her tongue, liking the way it felt on her lips.
Finally slipping her wrist out of his grasp, she flattened her palm on his shoulder, careful to avoid the wound she hadn’t even got around to dealing with yet, and let her palm graze down over his body.
It was even more incredible beneath her touch. Muscles bunched and tensed as she teased him, and he got his delicious revenge by dropping white-hot kisses into the hollow of her neck. She traced lower and lower, until she felt the edges of scars.
They went on for ever.
Surprised, she pushed back from him, her legs staying where they were but enough to dip her head to see. His whole body had tensed, his grip that little bit tighter on her body.
‘What happened?’
‘Grenade,’ he answered simply.
So that was how he wanted to play it?
‘Must have been some grenade.’
‘I’m still alive,’ he bit out. ‘Body armour took the brunt of it.’
She could tell that wasn’t exactly true and, in any case, body armour caused problems of a different kind. But Fliss said nothing; instead she traced the scars, the damaged tissue, the skin grafts. Up to his pectoral muscles, across his abs towards the line of hairs to his belly button, down over his lower abs until it dipped down beneath his waistband, where she couldn’t trace it any further. Then her hands skimmed over to the insides of his forearms.
Small, circular scars, too regular in shape. She’d seen it before, but on a guy like this?
She snapped her head up to make direct eye contact.
‘And these?’