Strategic Engagement (Wingmen Warriors 5)

Sex with Danny had never been uncomplicated. Of its own volition and without her permission, the moment became about more, much more. It became about broad hands shaking from restraint. A familiar lock of hair falling over a brow furrowed deep with concentration. On her. The past and the present blended into a combustible need that surpassed just sex.

Her silk shirt glided down her arms, hooked on her elbows before slithering to pool at her feet. A quick snap of the front clasp on her bra bared her.

Would he find her thirty-year-old body less enticing than her nineteen-year-old self?

She didn't have to wonder long. His appreciative eyes burned a slow ride, lingering, moving on to linger and heat again. With an almost worshipful reverence, he reached. Touched. The line of her collarbone. Who'd have expected that to be an erogenous zone?

Mary Elise shivered.

"You're even more beautiful than I remembered."

Such a silly thing, to be pleased over a compliment, yet it wasn't the compliment so much as the desire that accompanied it. For too long, her body had been nothing more than…

She refused to think about any of that now. Not with a rock-solid man in nothing but his boxers and dog tags wanting her every bit as much as she wanted him.

He rested his forehead on hers, his hands hooked low on her waist. "Are you okay with this? I mean physically."

Oh, Danny.

She should have remembered this man had a decidedly earthy, practical side. "Do you think I would come on to you like this if I didn't intend to follow through? And, while I appreciate that you're being careful, I'm finding it rather unromantic to talk about medical conditions right now."

He angled back, pensive Danny in a full-out think mode in direct contrast to an abandon-thought need she could feel hot and hard against her.

"Do you want romantic, 'Lise? Because I'm not much good at that. Never have been. I'm an inside-out-shirt kind of guy. Beer and chips on the beach. Blunt. And, yeah, once I've decided on a course I forget to ask if anyone else has input." He grimaced. "I believe some might even call it intellectual arrogance."

Guilt pinched over having tossed much those same sorts of words at him years ago to push him away. "You're also funny and have a tender heart under all those muscles."

She gave her hands free rein to rove his shoulders, trail forward to skim his dog tags, the light bristle of skin and man. Hard planes and tendons jumped under her fingers.

He rewarded her with a smile. "You've been checking out my muscles, have you?"

She slugged his shoulder. "And you're also a jerk sometimes."

"But you want me?"

Her fist unfurled on his bicep. "Yes, Danny, I do. Very much."

Looping her arms around his neck, she fell backward to drag him down with her on the bed. Waves rocked beneath them as the rest of their clothes found their way down, off, into the air.

Daniel eased over her, holding himself away with his elbows, air sliding between them. She wanted more. Forget his slow dictates.

She hooked her leg around his and knocked him off balance with the help of a rogue wave. He bolted from her, rolling to his side. She would have thought he didn't want this if it weren't for the trembling in his arms, muscles bunched from undeniable restraint.

"Danny? What's going on here?"

A broad hand grazed down her damp hair. "Hon, if you don't know that, then apparently I really didn't have a clue what the hell I was doing back then."

"You knew just fine." Although she had a feeling he knew a lot more now. A tingle of anticipation tripped up her spine, then back down again, sparking lower. Hotter. "And you're just arrogant enough to realize it. You never held back then, but you're holding back now."

"It's called self-control." With more of that agonizing precision, he untwisted a strand of hair from her hoop earring. "Something a guy that young doesn't always understand."

A giggle teased her throat, making her laugh all the more because she was so not a giggler. She'd forgotten how fun Danny could be in bed. She wanted that lightness, the ease of being with him.

Still, something wasn't quite right here. "You made me be honest with you. I expect the same."

His hand trekked into her hair, gathered up a fistful and cradled her against his chest. "I don't want to hurt you."

Her breath hitched in her chest. She'd thought her heart too worn to be hurt again. Could she have been wrong?