Full Surrender

“Hola, Christina,” she greeted his cousin, toasting her with the drink she held in one hand. Then, never taking a sip, she set her glass down on the railing twined with pink-flamingo-shaped decorative lights, which surround the balcony. “And hola to you, Daniel Murphy. I’ve been anxious to tell you that you play guitar like a god.”

She didn’t say it like a groupie. She said it like someone who genuinely loved music. And then she launched into an air guitar riff, her head thrown back and her fingers flying over imaginary strings. Danny was surprised, charmed and yeah, totally taken with her.

And he’d known her for all of two minutes....

* * *

HOW THE HELL WOULD he ever be able to resist her now? He’d been a sucker for her then, before he’d ever touched her. This time, he knew exactly how good they were together. More importantly, she’d finally sought him out after all this time. When she’d ignored a couple of phone calls from him a few years ago, he’d left her alone, figuring she’d moved on. But now?

She needed him.

So what was he doing in the kitchen drying the same glass for the last freaking five minutes?

He set the tumbler on the counter with a force that threatened to shatter the thing on the granite. Stephanie peered his way.

“All done?” She took a step in his direction but paused at the stereo to turn the music down a few notches.

No. He was only just getting started.

“Yes. I have been for a while, actually.” He tossed the towel on the breakfast bar and met her in the middle of the living area. “I’ve just been looking at you and wondering...where to go from here.”

She hugged her arms around her waist and shrugged. Her blue-black hair was glossy in the sunlight that streamed through the windows that lined half the room. Her eyes sparked with some of the old light, the mischief he’d always liked about her. She had a playful spirit that really worked for him.

Or at least, she used to have a playful spirit. Protectiveness surged through him at the thought of anyone daring to take that from her.

“Funny you should say that, because I’ve been over here thinking the same thing.” She combed a strand of hair away from her forehead with one hand.

“Really?” He told himself to take it slow. No matter how she flirted with him, he was going to take this easy. One day at a time. “For the woman who set this whole thing in motion, I’m surprised you don’t have some idea what to do next.”

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Yes. Well. Like you, I remember the logistics, even if it’s been a while.” She tossed his words from earlier back in his face, an irrepressible smile drawing him into the sphere of her spell.

And yeah, he could call it that because she had that kind of power over him.

“Would you like some help figuring it out?” He sifted his fingers through the dark waves curling around one of her shoulders and twined a lock around his thumb.

“I’m all ears,” she assured him, swaying closer.

His heart slugged so heavily in his chest it felt like an alien force trying to fight its way out. He wanted her. Badly.

“We could try the kiss again,” he suggested, his voice dipping into a predatory rumble no matter how he tried to keep things light. “Maybe this time, we could christen the do-over better than what I managed out in the bay.”

Bright blue eyes shifted downward, her glance settling on his mouth.

“I’d like that.” Her hands found his arms and gripped them lightly. She dragged him down to the couch to sit beside her.

Every instinct he possessed urged him to wrap her against him and hold her there. He’d let go of her five years ago and lived to regret it sorely. How the hell could he resist squeezing her tightly to him now?

But the battle raged inside him and he wrestled that hungry beast to the ground, giving Stephanie the barest brush of his mouth on hers. She tipped her face higher, providing him with more access, so he increased the pressure slightly.

Slowly, he learned the taste of her all over again. Recalled the nuances of her kisses and the way she arched into him for more. His soap on her skin didn’t dilute the more feminine essence beneath it—her fragrance, her lip gloss, her everything. He cradled her face in his hand, enjoying the moment.

That would have been enough for hours. For days even. Except that she closed the space between them, pressing her breasts to his chest with nothing to separate them but his T-shirts—one on him and two on her. She wore nothing underneath his clothes. He’d thought as much earlier when he’d watched her move around the living room. Even before that when he’d touched her shoulder and didn’t feel a bra strap there.