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Always a Warrior(78)

By:Patricia Bruening




“You’re looking at the new computer systems analyst at Somerset Technologies.” He grabbed her up in a bear hug and twirled her around. Her feet left the floor and her breath caught as the room spun before he set her on her feet again.



“Hungry?” He nodded toward the plate on the counter.



“Starving,” she stated impishly as she raked a glance over him and met his gaze again.

“But not for food—not anymore.”



The abrupt flare of desire in his dark eyes thrilled her. She slid her hands to the back of his neck and tangled her fingers in his silky black hair. She teased him with light nibbling kisses along his jaw until her mouth settled firmly on his. She savored the flavor, the heat, as his lips moved over hers. His arms tightened around her as he deepened their kisses, his tongue darting past her lips.



Pure sensual pleasure washed over her, wrenching a low groan from her throat. She pressed even closer, molding her body to his until it would take a crowbar to pry them apart. His erection pressed into her, scorching her with the primitive fire of desire. She squirmed against him in heightened anticipation. With a low, drawn out moan, he backed her up into the wall and dragged his mouth down her throat to the low neck of her T-shirt.



He shoved a hand under the cotton to cup her breast then groaned his delight at finding her braless. He pushed the shirt above her breasts, fastened his mouth to one nipple, and sucked ravenously. Anticipation exploded into mind-numbing need. The tug and release of his mouth shot straight to her loins.



“Damien!” She arched her back, offering more. An adrenaline rush of desire surged in her blood.



“Upstairs,” she croaked raggedly and tried to push him away.



He merely gripped her waist, dragged her into the fire of his arousal, and switched his attention to her other breast. Desperate need clawed into her gut. Her head fell back and she dropped her hands to his belt.



“Stacy?” he muttered against the moist skin of her breast.



“Spending the afternoon with her friend.” She fumbled with his belt and finally released the catch. She yanked his shirt from the waistband of his trousers and unbuttoned it as fast as trembling fingers allowed. Craving flesh on flesh, she flattened her hands on his bare chest.



“Then why move?” he growled around her nipple.



He hoisted her onto the counter, unfastened her jeans, and pushed denim and her panties down to her ankles. Moving between her thighs, he took her mouth in another ravishing kiss that stole her heart all over again.



Frantic now, she freed him from his clothes then wrapped her hand around his erection.

She swallowed his harsh groan as he pushed her hand away and pulled her to the edge of the counter. He thrust hard into her and her muscles automatically contracted around him.

ALWAYS A WARRIOR Patricia Bruening

114



Reality faded to a kaleidoscope of passion that exploded into brilliant sensation around them. Her heart pounding hard, she slumped in his arms, needing support. He trembled, breathing as harshly as she, but held her in a fierce embrace.



“I love you,” he murmured in her ear.



“Love you,” she mumbled against his throat. Her heart gradually slowed and she sighed, deeply content in his arms.



* * * *



Laurie adjusted her alarm clock to get up with Damien. Since he worked in Tucson, he drove an hour and a half to get to his office and another hour and a half to get home. The three hour daily commute didn’t bother him.



“Unwind time,” he had told her the previous night.



She groaned at the two hour earlier than usual wake up time, shut off the steadily buzzing alarm clock, and forced her body out of bed. Get used to it, she ordered as she pulled on a thick terrycloth robe.



Early dawn was a thin line of dull silver on the eastern horizon, barely visible in the kitchen window. Laurie yawned as she waited for the coffee to finish. A few minutes later, she carried two mugs of coffee into the living room and turned on the very early morning news.

Steam curled in thin streams from her mug as she lifted it to her lips. Damien’s mug sat next to the recliner he preferred.



A snicker escaped her. That recliner had been ‘her’ chair before Damien had appropriated it. She could not bring herself to mind. She loved having him in her house, in her life. If the very existence of their love stunned her, it was hardly a surprise. Except for Stacy, no one had ever loved her until Damien had battled his way into her life and into her heart.



She looked up as he came downstairs, fresh from an early morning shower. His damp hair gleamed in the lamplight and his eyes sparkled with anticipation. He wore a crisp white shirt and dark blue slacks that did nothing to hide that superb male physique. Though totally oblivious to it, he radiated sheer masculine sex appeal. But she noted the slight tremor of his fingers as he picked up his coffee.