Drew stared down at the unmistakable passion smudging Yasmine's near-opaque eyes and knew he was being a selfish bastard to allow her to give up her first time in the crap confines of cramped military quarters with a guy old enough to be— Hell, he didn't want to think about that.
And damned if he could walk away from her now.
All the rage and loss from a hellish day demanded release. Hard. Fast. In a warrior's roaring need to conquer. Win.
He might be selfish, but he wasn't an animal. He could, would, rein himself in enough to make sure she received the gentle treatment she deserved. He might be taking, but he would damn well make sure he gave her something in return.
Backing her toward the cot without breaking the warm drugging draw of sweeping her mouth with his tongue, he reached behind her to snag the pillow, fling it to the floor on top of the discarded sleeping bag. He cradled her to him, lowered her, dropping to one knee, his hand extended past to slow their fall until he guided her to rest in the fabric folds.
Never had an Army-issue bedroll looked so damned good. As a backdrop for Yasmine's dusky-naked beauty it was goddamned masterful.
Control inched further away with a painful throb.
She stared back up at him with trusting eyes, her fingers twisted tight in the splash of pink from her scarf. Her hair pooled around her, glossy dark on the white pillow.
Kneeling over her, he worked the silken length free from her grasp. He might not be much with pretty words, but he sure as shit understood a thing or two about the subtle nuances of pleasure he would like to teach this woman.
He hooked her scarf on one finger, the two tails trailing. Slowly he grazed the edges over her shoulder, along her collarbone in a gentle never-ending swipe that raised goose bumps on her skin while she watched him. No objection came from her mouth, just the soft rush of a contented sigh that rippled silk.
His path continued, lower to skim the tip of one hardened nipple the exact same deep rose color of the fabric between his fingers. He repeated the scarf's trail further, over her belly, down one leg and up the inside again until he stroked to the vee of her legs. Even as the all-over blush spread across her, she didn't tell him to stop.
Then he retraced his course with the scarf, followed by the caresses of his free hand. And once more. This time with his mouth skimming, nipping just after the gentle swish of silk against silkier skin until he found his way back up to her lips again.
One elegant arm stretched up around his neck, languid, her fingers gliding along his shoulder, tracing every muscle, following down his arm...
To steal the scarf from him.
Her Eve-smile gave him all of three second's warning before she stroked down his chest, her hand covered in the scarf. Down. Down. Until...oh, yeah... damned if she didn't drape the scarf over his erection, deliberately, wrapping the silky length around and around.
She folded her fingers over it, encircling him, stroked. "Am I doing this right?"
His head fell to rest on her shoulder, his breath ragged. "Yeah, I think you've got the right... Yeah."
A woman with intuition and imagination like this could rob a man of his will to breathe. The combination of her hands on him and the smoky, exotic scent all around him stirred him too much, too fast, for a man his age, damn it.
Scooping the scarf from her along with control, he rolled onto his back and positioned Yasmine over him. >Although she'd made it clear not too long ago with her supple body draping all over him in a kiss that seared from the inside out. Even remembering brought heat, desire, darker feelings from a side of him far from sensitive. Shit, yeah, he was weak right now. One nudge and he'd fall over the edge.
She stepped closer, bringing all that smoky sensuality with her. "No games. And believe me, Drew, I know exactly what I want from you."
Her fingers went to the top button of her dress. Ah, hell. He knew he should stop her, but his battered brain went on stun. She couldn't actually be about to...
Black linen slid from her shoulders, hooked on pert breasts, before gliding free to pool around her ankles in a dark cloud. And she wasn't wearing a damned stitch of clothing underneath.
More than a nudge, she'd packed a full-out shove to a man already standing on the edge.
Chapter 15
Yasmine willed herself to stand still as Drew's shocked gaze locked on her na*ed body. If he laughed at her, she would die. Or kill him.
She hoped she had not misjudged. She was so certain he desired her and would welcome comfort. Her comfort.
Stay resolved. She wanted this and perhaps she was selfishly taking advantage of a weak moment, but then, ultimately they would both be glad. Yes, she was being greedy, but she also saw the pain of loss in a man who looked out for everyone and had no one to look after him. For tonight at least, that would change.
Drew scrubbed a hand over his face. "Please tell me you haven't been like that under your clothes all the time."
She shook her head. "Only at night. Only for you."
His blue eyes flecked with molten steel. There was something a little ferocious about him tonight in his grief, but she kept focused on his eyes. She knew he would never hurt her.