Renegade (Special Tactical Units Division 3)

He rose to his feet and turned towards her. Her heart thudded. He was beautiful. His face was the essence of masculine strength and power. So was his body. Every part of him proclaimed him to be a proud warrior who had faced his enemies, fought them and won.

She realized she hadn’t ever really seen him naked.

The light had been poor last night and though she’d felt every powerful inch of him against her, she’d learned the contours of his body mostly by touch.

She’d often slept in his arms in California, but he’d always kept on a T-shirt and board shorts. For her sake, she knew. And though he’d been shirtless on the beach, that didn’t count.

They hadn’t been lovers then.

Now they were, and she couldn’t stop looking at him.

The muscled arms. The taut pectorals. The dog tags glinting against the line of dark hair that traveled down his chest, over those washboard abs to his camos.

His unbuttoned camos, riding low on his hips.

Her mouth went dry. Her gaze swept back to his face. He was watching her through narrowed eyes the color of night.

“Anoushka,” he said, and for the first time since the deaths of her parents, her given name sounded as if it truly belonged to her. “I heated some water. I thought we might wash up before we eat.”

She nodded. “Yes. Of course. Wash up…”

Slowly, he began walking towards her. He stopped only inches away. She could feel the heat of the fire, the heat of his body, the heat of desire burning inside her

“We should do a lot of things—but, baby, if I don’t get inside you right now, I’m going to die.”

His blunt words sent a shock of electricity racing from her breasts to her belly. In an instant, she was hot and wet, and when he reached for her, she threw herself into his arms, sobbing his name, eager for his kiss, his touch, his possession.

He thrust his hand into her hair and cupped the back of her head and then he took her mouth, not gently, not asking. He claimed her with his lips, his teeth, his tongue, and it was exactly what she wanted.

He bent down in front of her, unlaced her boots. She stepped out of them. Then he rose to his feet and tore her sweater over her head, undid her camo pants and shoved them and her panties to her ankles. His hands were hard and fast; so was his breathing, and yes, this was how she wanted him, now, right now, no preliminaries, no gentle explorations, she wanted him to take her and make her fly.

“Jesus Christ,” he said thickly. “Annie. Anoushka. I can’t wait…”

He lifted her. Carried her to the narrow bed piled high with soft blankets. Tumbled onto it with her. She sobbed his name, reached up to him as he kicked off his pants and then he was inside her, deep inside her; her body lifted to his and her cry of immediate release was all he needed to let go and explode within her.

“Annie,” h

e said, “Annie, I love you.”

She wound her arms around him, drew him down against her, and wept with joy.

CHAPTER TEN

They stayed that way for a long, long time, Dec’s arms hard around Annie, hers around him, hearts drumming against each other, then slowing, slowing, slowing until, gradually, reality returned.

Dec rolled to his side with Annie still in his arms. He kissed her throat. Softly. Tenderly.

“You okay?”

She nodded. Some day, in some century, she would be able to form words—but not quite yet.

“I didn’t mean to be so—”

She pressed a kiss to his mouth. She felt… Boneless. Breathless. And exhausted. So perfectly, happily exhausted…

“Hey.” He nuzzled aside a strand of her hair and gently bit her shoulder. “No falling asleep, woman. First you need something to eat.”

“Mmm.”