to push him away. Simply to touch.
Her fingers burned his flesh, fired his needs.
“You won’t hurt me,” she said quietly, the absolute confidence in her tone baffling. Did she really trust him that much? Did she have no clue the things he’d done, the things he’d seen?
“I won’t have to hurt you.”
There were so many other things he could do to her. With her. On her and under her.
Her letters, always there tucked away in a private corner of his mind, surfaced. The door he’d slammed shut flew open, giving him access he hadn’t allowed himself since his last mission.
The memories of those letters were a reward, a treat. Special. Something he’d enjoyed as he reveled in how freaking awesome his life was. The words played through his mind. The images of caramel, pulsating water and blue silk all crashed together in his brain in a huge, horny wave of need.
He wasn’t interested in need, though.
He just wanted to be left alone. Physically, and mentally.
As always, he used the tools at hand to win the battle. He didn’t go for guilt himself, but that didn’t mean he didn’t know how to wield it with laser precision.
It was only fair that he give her one last warning before he moved in.
“We’re done. You delivered your invites. I turned them down. Time to go.” His tone was low, menacing. He shifted his weight just enough, pulling back his shoulders and angling his chin so he loomed over her.
Intimidating.
She swallowed loud enough for him to hear her teeth click. Her pulse raced. He could see it thrumming in her throat. But her expression didn’t change. She just kept looking at him with that cheerful smile and calm eyes.
Damn, she was something.
And something was the last thing he needed in his life right now.
* * *
WELL, THIS WASN’T going very well. Genna didn’t know what she’d thought would happen when she talked to Brody. She hadn’t let herself imagine that far, figuring the reality was going to be so much better than anything she’d imagined.
Disappointment sat hard and tight in her belly.
She hadn’t let herself imagine what it would be like. But she’d entertained a few worries about what she’d hoped it wouldn’t. Like that he’d be holding a grudge for that night before he’d left for the navy. Or that he’d be involved with someone, possibly serious. Or maybe that he’d only see her as Joe’s little sister and want to talk about her brother.
Turns out she hadn’t worried nearly enough. She needed to work on that.
“You’re not leaving.” His statement was so matter-of-fact, it was as though he was simply accepting the inevitable.
Genna wanted to smile, to pretend they could move on to rebuilding—okay, building outside of her imagination—their relationship. But she wasn’t stupid. Right beneath his calm words was a whole lot of anger and nothing that invited building anything except space between them.
She should leave. She knew she should, but she was so afraid if she walked out this door, that’d be it. Her last, her only chance to talk to Brody, to find out what’d happened after that night. To discover how he felt about her...
Her fingernails cut into the soft flesh of her palms as she debated. Run or stay. Smart or stupid.
Then Brody moved and took the choice away.
“You ever been warned not to play with fire? Not to poke a sleeping tiger? Not to take candy from strangers?”
Despite his serious tone, her lips twitched.
“I’m not playing, I’m talking. You’re awake. And I brought you cookies, not the other way around. You’re welcome to offer me candy, though. I like peanut butter M&M’s best.”
His eyes lit for a second, then he shifted closer. His expression was hard, making her doubt the flash of humor she’d seen. She tried to step back, but realized he had her back against the wall next to the door.
He was only inches away.
So close she could smell his soap, clean and fresh, and see every detail of the stubble covering his chin. A couple days’ worth, she realized, her hand aching to rub it and see if it was soft or rough.
Her gaze shifted, meeting Brody’s eyes. His stare was intense, as if he were looking into her soul and figuring out all of her secrets. What he planned to do with them was what worried her, though.
“You should listen to good advice. And warnings.” He leaned in closer, not touching her yet, but making her feel as if his hands were sweeping every inch of her body. “You never know when ignoring them will get you into trouble.”
Genna’s heart raced so fast, she swore she could feel it vibrating under her skin. Her body went into meltdown, needy and wanting more. It’d been so long since he’d touched her. Since he’d kissed her. Was it as good as she remembered? Was he better now?
She didn’t care how stupid it was. She wanted to find out.
So when he leaned closer, his expression pure intimidation, frown and all, she leaned, too.
Right into his lips.
Oh. Her head spun, slow and intoxicating. Her body almost melted, he felt so good. She’d have thought that frown would make his lips hard. But no. They were soft. Welcoming.
Yummy.
Afraid to move, afraid to close her eyes, Genna stared up at Brody. Waiting.
Her heart raced, anticipation pounding through her veins. Surely he wouldn’t turn her away. Would he? As he stood, rock-still, disappointment started to edge out the anticipation. Genna sighed against his mouth, preparing to move away and begin her descent into humiliated horror.
Then he took over.
He grabbed her arms, just above the elbow, lifting her higher so her toes barely brushed the floor. His mouth shifted, angling. Taking. His tongue plunged, dark and demanding as it drove deep into her mouth.
Genna’s head fell back, giving him control. Giving him anything.
Her breath came in pants, her mind swirling with sensations even as the intensity of their kiss worked its magic on the rest of her body.
He was voracious.
His mouth took hers as if he were starving and she a feast, there to feed his every need. She’d never been kissed like this. Never felt this edge between passion and fury.
That he was angry was clear.
At her? At himself? At the situation? That part was up for grabs.
It didn’t matter. She was sure she could soothe the anger with a few kisses. That she could reach inside and fix whatever made him so sad.
She shifted closer. Not quite plastering her body against his―she wasn’t sure where his injury was and didn’t want to hurt him. But close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. To brush his chest with the tips of her breasts, sensitive even through the nubby knit of her sweater.
When she moved, his kiss changed. He pulled back, his lips softer now. Distant. Afraid he was going to end their kiss, she called up all of her nerve, wrapped her hands around the back of his neck to hold him in place and plunged her tongue into his mouth.
It was like flipping a switch.
No more anger. No more distance.
Just passion. Pure and sweet.
His tongue slid along hers and his hands wrapped around her waist under her sweater. Flesh against flesh. She shivered at the feel of his fingers, rough and strong against her skin.
His