Always a Warrior(29)

“Jesus,” she groaned, unable to pull her gaze from him.



She flattened her palms on his chest. He was so warm under her hands, hands that curled into fists clutching his shirt. Instead of pushing him away, she dragged him closer. He gripped her hips and pulled her into his heavy arousal. Drowning in dark chocolate pools, she squirmed against him. Her lips parted on a shuddering breath and his mouth covered hers. The sharp vicious hunger, the frantic need for him, slapped her hard.



A ragged groan erupted from deep in his throat. She swallowed the low sound, the very breath that uttered it. Can’t do this, she warned her wayward body. But the warning was weak.

He plunged his tongue past her lips, stroking and exploring, taking what he wanted. Logical thought rapidly dissolving. She struggled to remember why she could not have him, why she could not let him take her into this vicious, glorious passion.



There’s a reason, she thought frantically as his mouth relentlessly devoured hers. When she thought she’d never breathe again, he dragged his mouth from hers. His lips raced hot and moist to the shell of her ear.



“I want you,” he growled softly.



Want. The word stunned her, slapped her. He wanted her. He didn’t love her. She jerked her head back, smacked the tree so hard bolts of lightening exploded in her brain.



“Oh Jesus.” She sucked in a rasping breath. Her heaving breasts brushed his chest. Desire warred with pain in her head. She uncurled her hands from his shirt and shoved half-blind from that inadvertent smack of sense into her head.



“No,” she sobbed in denial, of herself as well as him. “No, please.”



He released her so fast she stumbled into the tree again. Short, shallow breaths rushed in and out of her lungs. She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed a groan of misery. Not again, she reminded herself. She turned and stumbled into something else hard but very warm.



“Laurie!” The sharp crack of Damien’s voice thundered in her ears. His hands gripped her upper arms and halted her floundering escape.



“What the hell is wrong with you?” Anger and uncertainty mingled in his tone.



Her eyes snapped open and she gaped at him. He stood rigid, holding her in place. The harsh planes and angles of his face were stark in the gloomy pre-storm atmosphere crackling around them. She sucked in air, let it out, and inhaled again. The hard glint in his eyes sent shivers along her spine.



He dropped his hands from her as though she scorched him. He stepped back from her but that relentless penetrating stare bored into her.



“Damien, I …,” she began.



“Save it,” he barked stonily. “We’re burning daylight. We’ve got one last full day of training ahead of us. We’re wasting time.”

ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening

44



He stalked off toward the cabin. Laurie stared after him, shocked at that very abrupt change of attitude. It staggered her mind and stung her heart because she loved him. He doesn’t want love, she reminded herself forcefully, just sex. She gulped in air in an effort to steady her heart and her head. Finally she trudged after him.



She spent the rest of the day in abject misery, and not entirely because of the nasty weather. As morning turned into afternoon, she slowed down. Damp cold clawed into her despite her sweatshirt and jacket. Damien was relentless. Driven by some inner demon, he hounded her mercilessly.



Sharp commands and barked orders, relentless drills or outright yelling that barely stopped short of verbal abuse, irritated her. As if the drill sergeant behavior was not monstrous enough, he alternated yelling at her with a fierce coldness that first puzzled then angered her. She stewed in her cloak of misery until fury finally got the better of her and she turned on him. He moved behind her, slid an arm around her neck, and tightened his hold.



Incensed by his impersonal touch when her system had gone completely haywire, she slammed her elbow hard into his gut. The air burst from his lings in a harsh grunt, but he did not release her.



“Damn it,” she muttered and grabbed his arm, just above the elbow. Shoving her hip into him, she flipped him hard on the ground. She stood over him, her feet planted firmly by his shoulders, and met his stony glare. Reluctant approval gleamed in his eyes.



“Enough,” she declared through clenched teeth. “I’ve had enough of you.”



Drawing his gaze like a magnet, her chest heaved with each ragged breath she forced into her burning lungs. She deliberately ignored his focused stare, the flash of desire in his eyes, as she stepped over him and stormed back into the cabin. Slamming the door behind her with a loud crack of wood on wood, she relished her brief sense of savage satisfaction.