Page 29 of Deadly Strain

Her father would be mortified if he knew she was crying on someone’s shoulder. She’d heard his stories of operating in sandstorms during the Iraq War. He’d survived horrible situations with his sense of humor and dignity intact. Why couldn’t she?

She was so focused on keeping quiet, controlling the crest of grief flooding through her, she lost track of time. Eventually, she came back to herself only to realize her situation was no less emotionally explosive and dangerous now than when she started crying.

She faced Sharp, straddling his lap with her knees on either side of his hips, plastered to him like a lover who took what she wanted. Between her legs she could feel his response. No amount of clothing could hide the long, hot length telling her he was big all over.

He wanted her.

It was the crazy situation, not because heactuallywanted her.

So why did feeling his erection between her legs, proving they were both still alive, give her so much pleasure?

She wanted him.

Was it wrong to want to feel something other than horror and fear? If she moved against him, would he offer the comfort of his body?

Of course he would. He was a good man, the kind of man who’d do everything he could to help her get through this until they were safe.

She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t use him like that.

Grief and guilt formed a tsunami of nausea that rolled up from deep in her gut, and she tried to jerk herself out of his tight embrace. How sick did she have to be to want a man only hours after being in a crash that killed several men, aftershe’dkilled several men?

Sharp held her tighter. She fought, pounding his back and using the strength of her thighs to push away from him. He held her tighter still and whispered words of reassurance that made no sense in her ear. He should be angry ather. She hadn’t been able to save Rasker’s life.His friend’s life.

She shoved, punched, and pushed until her muscles trembled with exhaustion. Panting, she stilled, waiting for an opportunity for him to relax his vigilance, and finally understood what he was whispering to her.

“It’s okay, Grace. You’re good, honey. You’re good. I’m going to keep you safe, I promise.” Over and over, he repeated the words.

“Sharp?” she managed to say, her heartbeat a thunder of drums in her ears.

“The bad guys don’t know where we are. You’re safe.”

“Sharp?” she said again. “I’m okay, sort of, now.”

He sighed and held her even tighter for a moment. “God, I thought you were never coming back.”

“Neither did I.” She trembled and returned his embrace, her hands flexing against his body armor, needing to feel him, solid and real. “What’s wrong with me?”

“We’ve all got ghosts haunting us,” he said, his voice rumbling out of his chest. “You needed to let go of a few of yours, that’s all.”

She tilted her face up to tell him to stop placating her, she needed the truth, but never got the chance to say a word.

He kissed her.

His mouth was hard and hot on hers, his tongue stroking past her lips, his taste waking something cold and alone inside her.

So good.

Oh God, no kiss hadeverfelt this good before.

A voice in the back of her head whispered that this was bad. This would change things between them.

A whip of pleasure silenced the voice, blinded her to everything else, and she kissed him back, groaning, needing this connection to the real world. To him. Her hips rocked against the erection confined to his pants and she lapped up the growl that came out of him as a result.

“Grace.” He jerked her closer, pressing her pelvis against him with one hand on her lower back as he rocked upward.

She wanted that.

She needed him. Now. Her hands clawed at his body armor, trying to rip it off. When that didn’t work, she shimmied backward far enough to work her hand between them to find the long length of his cock, then squeezed.