Page 63

She snorted, and it lightened the mood. “You sure fooled me.”
Yesterday had hardly been a walk in the park.
They stared at each other through the thin beam of light that crept in beneath the blinds. Tom didn’t know who moved first, but it didn’t matter. The moment their mouths met, something inside him snapped.
All the pent-up emotion he’d been carrying around with him for the last few days erupted in a volcano of need and desire. He crushed his lips against hers, and she opened for him with a soft moan.
She tasted as sweet as he remembered, and he devoured her mouth like a man starved. Her hand curled around the back of his neck, his slid to her waist, pulling her even closer.
The room disappeared. The war. The danger. Even the mission. It was just her—soft, real, and alive in his arms.
He deepened the kiss, savoring her, letting it sweep through him like wildfire. She wasn’t passive either. She responded with hunger, kissing him back like she’d been waiting for this, needing it as much as he did.
His hand slid up her side, over her ribs, feeling the rise and fall of her breath. She arched into his touch instinctively, and that small, unconscious movement nearly undid him. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to lose it entirely.
“Hannah—” he gasped, when they came up for air.
“Please… I need this, Tom. I need to feel something other than… fear.”
He got it, he really did, and had he been thinking clearer, he might have objected, but right now, as his lips found hers again, all rational thought vanished.
He was in the moment. Drowning in her hot, sensual femininity.
She shifted so she was sitting in his lap, one leg crossed over his thigh. It was close, intimate. He could feel her heat against his hips as she anchored herself to him. As if letting go wasn’t an option.
He felt her hands on his back, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades like she needed him as much as he needed her.
With a groan, he released her mouth and kissed his way down her neck. She tilted her head back to give him better access, her hair tumbling down over his hands. He grabbed a fistful, tugging gently.
Christ, she was beautiful.
He couldn’t stop kissing her, tasting her, working his way down to where her shirt hung off the shoulder. Her fingers fiddled with the remaining buttons, and then it fell open.
Goddamn.
One hand cupped her left breast, while his lips found her right nipple. He sucked it into his mouth, exploring the taut nub with his tongue. She gave a little cry of pleasure, and he felt a jolt of heat run straight down to his groin.
Everything about her was soft and warm, and he couldn’t get enough. She writhed against him, desperate for contact, but when she felt the size of his erection, her eyes flew open.
He looked up, “Can’t help it. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” she whispered, and rubbed her core against it. He groaned, clutching her waist with both hands.
“Shit, Hannah. If you keep doing that?—”
He found her mouth again, their breath tangling as their tongues danced.
Wanting to feel her, he moved his hand down and cupped her sex underneath the soft, linen pants she still wore.
“Oh, God. Tom…” she murmured, her thighs opening wider, legs locked around him.
He slipped his fingers into her folds.
Damn, she was wet.
Knowing it was for him, nearly made him come right then and there. Somehow, he hung on. He knew she needed this, needed the release—and darn if she didn’t feel good.
He stroked her slickness until she was writhing back and forth against his hand in jerky little movements. He felt the tension inside her build. She’d been so pent up, so terrified by the events of the last few days, that she needed this release.