More Than Friends (The Warriors) (19 page)

She breathed his name as she lifted his other hand, lingering over his palm, her breath warm, her tongue hot and wet, and her gentleness unbearably sweet. Brett caught her golden mane with his hands, tangling it in his fingers as she tilted her head and nuzzled the side of his neck with her lips.

"You’re killing me," he muttered.

He felt her smile against the sensitive skin of his throat a heartbeat before she opened her mouth and lapped at the pulse throbbing there. She lifted her head long moments later, her eyes a sultry aquamarine, her skin hot to the touch as he cupped her cheek and brought her closer. He felt the press of her taut nipples against his chest in the same instant that she raised her face to his and accepted his hungry kiss.

Brett absorbed her delicate shiver with his hands when he smoothed them down her arms and urged her even closer. She pressed against him, her high, full breasts plumping sensually against the hard wall of his chest, her nipples stabbing at his hot skin, tormenting him while she parted her lips even more to grant him greater access. He clasped her head with his hands and devoured her lips and mouth, his hunger without boundary, his desire for her escalating as he worshipped her, adored her, and loved her in a silent but eloquent language that only they understood.

She slipped free of him without warning, her soft laughter tempering his disappointment and inciting his imagination even as she moved down his body like a flow of molten gold. She paused here to nuzzle, paused there to excite, and paused lower still to devastate.

Kneeling between his legs, she watched his face as she slid her hands up and down his powerful thighs, her fingertips veering closer and closer to his jutting sex with each sweeping movement of her hands. Brett returned her heated gaze, all the while certain that his body would soon ignite from the tension building within him.

Leah softly vowed, "I intend to repay you for the other night."

His eyes shuttered closed. He held as still as he could, but his large body vibrated with barely leashed desire and tension. He groaned, "I may die before you’re finished with me."

She suddenly clasped him between her hands, her touch so gloriously bold, so achingly familiar that he had to choke back the emotion brought on by his memories of their shared past. He jerked beneath her fingers, almost not hearing her when she said softly, "I’ll make certain you survive the experience."

"Promises, promises," he managed between clenched teeth.

She loved him then, loved him with her deeply sensual nature, her skillful hands, and a cherishing mouth. She loved him until he trembled with the knowledge that he’d die for one last chance to feel the resilient depths of her body closing around him, clasping him, her delicately tremoring inner muscles milking every last drop of passion from him until he collapsed into a mindless heap.

As he savored her devotion, the pressure built inside him to almost unbearable limits. Brett felt a rush of emotion wash over him just before his world suddenly tilted to a dizzying angle. Catapulted into a shimmering cascade of pure sensation, he shuddered violently, his control stretched until it threatened to snap. No longer able to endure her sensual torture, he reared up, seized Leah, and hauled her up the length of his shaking body.

"I wasn’t finished," she protested breathlessly as he held her in an embrace so tight, she couldn’t move.

Brett sucked in enough air to fill his lungs before he raised his head and scowled down at her. "You almost finished me off, and you know it."

She looked at him, smiling like a cat who’d found a bowl of cream. He swiftly settled her atop his hips, his mouth staking a permanent claim on her mouth, his hands possessively closing over her breasts, and his pulsing shaft wedged between their bodies.

Leah gasped, clutching at his shoulders as she shifted experimentally against him. She arched and dipped and stroked him, her body an intimate instrument of mind–shattering pleasure. Brett instantly responded. Lifting his hips, he surged against her, silently pledging to give her everything she craved with the movement of his body.

She moaned, whispering, "Now, please, now," in his ear as she undulated with erotic intent against the hard ridge of flesh trapped beneath her.

Brett thought she resembled the finest silk buffeted by a gentle wind. He felt the soft swell of her stomach brushing against his lower abdomen, the dampness of her skin as passion swept through her like a firestorm, and the shivering fullness of her breasts as they nudged against his chest. Gripping her hips, he raised her up so that his sex intimately caressed her.

"Welcome me home with your gentle fire, Leah," he begged against her lips as she tried to catch her breath. "I’ll die without it."

Positioned on her knees, her gaze locked on his hard–featured face, Leah settled over him in a fluid downward stroke that made them both gasp. She sheathed him completely, taking him deep into the dark heat of her body. Moaning his name, she steadied herself, lifted, dipped, and then rocked her hips in concert with each upward surge of his body.

Brett felt consumed by a glittering world of pure sensation. The air in his lungs burned, and the muscles in his body thrummed. Hovering at the edge of his pleasure was his certainty that this would be his only night to experience the intensity of Leah’s passion. He savored every breathless sound she made and each deliberately provocative movement of her body. And every second they shared became more precious to him than the one before.

He filled his hands with her breasts, molding them, caressing them, and then tugging at her nipples until they were pebble hard. Ducking his head as she rode him with increasing speed, he took one of the tight peaks into his mouth and sucked strongly.

Leah’s head fell back and her eyes drifted closed as she groaned her pleasure. Brett surged up into her body in a relentless counterpoint to the erotic rhythm of her hips. He heard his name spill from her lips like an incantation, and he felt the subtle change in the lower regions of her body the instant she began to come apart beneath his hands.

She tightened into herself, her breath catching before it streamed out of her in a rush. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, holding onto him as though he’d become her anchor in a fierce Pacific storm. His hands fastened to her hips, he guided her in her breathless pursuit of the summit of her release. And he took into his mouth the sound of her sharp cry as her insides imploded in a series of spasms and contractions composed purely of ecstasy.

He followed after her, his restraint shattering like fine crystal in the aftermath of her climax. She twisted above him in a final act of giving so starkly sensual and generously loving that he abandoned himself to the force bursting free of his body.

Bathed in the fire of Leah’s love, Brett arched violently, a harsh, guttural cry escaping him as his hips jerked up off the bed. He spent himself in her heat, racked by seemingly endless waves of pleasure as he repeatedly thrust upward, finally shuddering as his climax tore through him.

His strength sapped and his emotions vulnerable, he sank back against the headboard. He inhaled Leah’s light, sighing kiss as she slid her arms around his neck. Resting her head against his shoulder, she sprawled across him, their bodies still joined and their hearts beating as one.

Unwilling to release her, Brett held her and stroked his hands up and down her back. He listened to her breathing change, felt her bones soften and her limbs grow lax. As she dozed in the security of his embrace, he dreamed of taking her again and again. And in the silence of the midnight hour he whispered of his loneliness and his love for her.

They slept sporadically that night, both eager to indulge needs long denied. They rarely spoke as they feasted upon each other, sometimes with explosive haste, sometimes in a slow motion, almost too poignant ballet, and always with an intense passion as they plundered each other’s senses and conveyed emotions neither felt free to articulate.

Brett telephoned his superiors at Naval Intelligence while Leah showered and dressed the next morning. Patched through to Europe, he also spoke to Micah, who provided him with a firsthand description of the events that had taken place since their last conversation.

Clad in pale–rose silk slacks and a matching tunic that flowed to her knees, and with her hair fashioned into a loose knot atop her head, Leah walked into his room as he recradled the telephone.

"How goes the battle?" she asked, her heart speeding up as she admired the muscular lines of his naked body.

He smiled at her, an almost boyishly triumphant expression on his face as he pushed up to his feet. He approached her with the predatory nonchalance of a male animal comfortable with himself and his physical attributes. Having experienced him as a lover, Leah suppressed a smile and forgave him his confident manner.

"We’ve won the war," Brett said. "This one, anyway."

Her eyes skimmed down, and then back up his powerful frame. She inhaled shakily, recalling in vivid detail the erotic night they’d just shared. When she met his gaze, she flushed and worked at getting her senses under control. She said softly, "It’s really over, and Matthew is safe?"

He nodded, a half–smile still tugging at the edges of his sensual mouth. "It’s really over, and Matthew is fine. The terrorist leader we’ve been hunting for the better part of the last two years is now on his way to Gitmo, and most of his followers are dead."

"You must be relieved."

He absently smoothed his hand across her shoulder, up the side of her neck, and then cupped her cheek. His gaze piercing as he studied her, he admitted, "I’m not sure how I feel. In some respects, it’s almost anti–climactic."

Leah flattened her palms against his chest, only half hearing his words. She absorbed his heat and felt the steady beating of his heart. Leaning forward, she pressed delicate but searing kisses to his nipples as she looped her arms around his waist. Looking up into his hard–featured face a few moments later, she asked, "Do you wish you’d been with Micah instead of baby–sitting me?"

He gathered her into his arms, his nudity allowing her to experience his body’s instant reaction to the feel of her breasts pressed against his chest and the cradling width of her hips as she swayed against him. He lifted her, molding her to his body, shifting his narrow hips and hard shaft back and forth until he shuddered and then groaned into her mouth. Then, he kissed her like a man whose hunger for the woman in his arms would never be appeased in his lifetime.

Leah clutched at his shoulders, aroused and shaking with desire once he released her lips. "You haven’t… answered… my question," she managed to gasp.

"I think I just did." He smiled, studying her with eyes that glowed hot with unbanked hunger. "I’m where I want to be, Leah. Haven’t you figured that out yet?" He glanced at the clock on the fireplace mantle. "Can you be ready to leave in twenty to thirty minutes?"

"Certainly, but what’s the rush?"

"You have a date with Matthew." With that, he settled her on her feet before him and dropped a final hard kiss on her lips.

Open–mouthed with surprise, she watched him stroll naked into the bathroom. The only thing that kept her from following him was the prospect of a reunion with their son.

Despite her determination to remain calm, Leah grew tense as they approached the outskirts of Seattle. Because her memories of the past poured into her consciousness at an almost ungovernable speed, she recognized many of the landmarks she saw.

She also started to recall her final days with Brett and the emotional roller coaster she’d ridden following their breakup. She realized now that her decision to move to Monterey had been born of despair. Her subsequent discovery of her pregnancy had terrified her at first, but Matthew had given her life new meaning and focus. Even though she’d fallen in love with Brett again, she felt anxious about the possibility of being hurt. She knew she wouldn’t survive losing him a second time. She also disliked the idea of subjecting their son to that kind of emotional chaos.

"You’re awfully quiet," he commented.

Leah glanced at him, not surprised by his observation. "I’ve been thinking about last night."

"It was good."

"It was more than good. It was amazing," she said.

His gaze traveled from the rearview mirror to the cars in front of them. "Any regrets?"

She sighed, determined to be honest with him. "No. None at all. It had to happen."

"And?" he prodded quietly.

"And I’m glad it happened."

"I am, too."

"I don’t know where we go from here, though," she admitted, hating the awkwardness she felt.

"Last night you didn’t want declarations of love or promises that wouldn’t be kept. Have you changed your mind, Leah?"

"How do I anticipate or plan for the future if I haven’t remembered all of my past?"

"I guess that depends on the person."

"You’re a big help," she snapped, her emotions more delicate than she realized.

"You didn’t want my help last night. You wanted my body."

Startled by his blunt remark, she really looked at him. She saw his grim facial expression as he watched the road, and she read the tension in the lines of his broad shoulders. Garbed in navy slacks and sweater, he reminded her of a night creature capable of disappearing into the darkness. "I wanted much more than your body, and you needn’t portray me as calculating. It’s neither fair nor accurate, and you know damn well I’m not built that way."

"That wasn’t my intent, but I guess you have every right to be suspicious of my motives." He flicked a glance in her direction. "You’ve done very well on your own for more than six years. You don’t need me or anyone else messing with your emotions or your successful life, do you?"

"I don’t know what I need," she confessed. "I’m not sure of anything right now. It’s too soon to make decisions about the future." She hesitated for a moment. "What about Matthew?"

"What about him?" Brett asked.

"You’re his father. He is your son. You have rights, but the real issue is that you need each other. That trumps everything else, Brett."