Strategic Engagement (Wingmen Warriors 5)

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?

The ache of his leaving before crashed back, even when she knew she'd sent him on his way by accusing him of being all his father ever said. Not that she believed any of it. But she'd been so wounded by his obvious relief at freedom. And no matter how much she told herself otherwise, he had that power to hurt her again.

His fingers rubbed a sensuous massage into her scalp. "You can tell me all day long that you're fine. Kathleen could give me a freaking printout of your records, and that still wouldn't stop me from worrying about you."

Clarity dawned. He meant physically hurt, minor in comparison to what she'd been imagining. The body—so transient in comparison to the heart. The soul. Her emotions started to scramble her resolve, a mighty inconvenient occurrence with her n**ed body plastered to his.

She wanted this, damn it. He wanted this. After all they'd been through together, they deserved at least this much. And they deserved to enjoy it to the fullest.

"Do you remember what I said earlier?"

He stroked her hair back with a hand so tender she almost crumbled. "You said a lot of things, 'Lise."

Maybe too much. "I won't be relegated to passive roles."