Into the Mist (Falcon Mercenary Group #1)(42)

“Take me to bed,” she whispered.

She heard his sudden intake of breath as his hands came up to frame her face. His thumbs brushed across her cheekbones, like a feather, light, sensual.

He kissed her. Harder this time. Their mouths melded together, melting like ice on fire.

His teeth caught at her bottom lip and pulled outward until he sucked it into his mouth. His tongue licked over the full flesh, tasting before he released it again.

Then he reached down and took her hand, twining their fingers together. He took a step back, still holding her hand. Like a lover. Like someone who cared about her.

Her confidence fled.

Fucking she could handle, but she felt in her bones that this was not the sort of sex she was accustomed to. When she indulged—bad choice of words. When she had sex, it was out of necessity, done mechanically like a job, a necessary task. This…this was different, and she wondered if this was what it was like to be made love to. To be cherished by a man whose interest went beyond a quick lay and an orgasm.

He pulled her toward him as he simply turned and walked toward a doorway at the back of his study. When they entered, she realized this was his bedroom. It was dark and masculine, like him. A bit of wild and exotic mixed in.

He stopped a few feet away from the bed and fingered the strap of her rifle.

“Undressing you should be fun. Brings me back to my boyhood days of playing with GI Joe action figures,” he quipped.

She smiled and allowed him to divest her of her weapons one by one. They landed with a clatter, one after another on the floor, and finally he reached for her jacket, slipping it over her shoulders and letting it also fall to the floor.

“I thought we’d start with a hot shower,” he said. “I kinda like you all dirty and bloody. It’s a serious turn on. But there’s my sheets to consider.”

A low chuckle escaped from her throat. It felt good to laugh, to escape for a moment into lightness.

She trembled as he undid her pants. Instead of pulling them off, he guided her back until the backs of her knees met the bed. He gently pushed her down, and when she was sitting, he knelt and began unlacing her boots.

“You know when I knew I was a goner?” he asked.

She cocked her head in question.

“When you walked into that Singapore nightclub like you f**king owned it, and I looked down and saw those combat boots.”

“You’re a sick puppy,” she muttered.

He took the boots off and let them fall with a clunk. Then he stood and pulled her up again. His hands circled her waist, and his fingers dug into the waistband of her pants, skirting down into her panties.

He tugged downward, letting his hands glide across her bare ass as her clothing worked lower. When the material pooled at her ankles, she stepped out, disentangling herself from the pant legs.

His hands skimmed back up her legs, over her hips and then tunneled under her shirt, pushing upward.

“Raise your arms, sugar,” he whispered, a sexy, husky catch to his voice.

Slowly, she moved her arms up and over her head. A twinge of pain nipped at her arm from the still-fresh cut, but she didn’t lower her arms. He pulled the shirt the rest of the way off, and she was left standing there naked.

It made her feel horribly vulnerable. Unprotected.

She was cognizant of every scrape, every bruise, every bit of dried blood. Of the dirt and sweat and of her lithe, boyish figure.

She didn’t have the curves other women had. Her hips barely made a mark outside her waistline, and her br**sts were small, not plump and soft.

With shaking hands, she lowered her arms to cover herself, no longer able to bear what Eli was seeing.

He pried her hands away from her body then reached up to cup her face.

“You’re beautiful, Tyana.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, Eli.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. “I don’t lie to women to get them into bed.”

He didn’t have to. The inference was there.

“You know what I see when I look at you, Tyana?”

“What?” she whispered, afraid of what he’d say and yet eager. So eager.

“I see a warrior. A kickass, brave warrior of a woman. I see someone who is my equal. I see someone who is so breathtakingly beautiful that it hurts me to look at you without touching. I see someone who is complex, loyal, who isn’t afraid of anything, and yet I see a fragility that makes me want to take you in my arms and shelter you from every bad thing that’s ever happened to you and make sure nothing ever touches you again. That’s what I see, Tyana. Don’t ever f**king hide yourself from me. I won’t let you.”

She swallowed, let out a shaky breath and swallowed again. “I don’t want to need you, Eli.”

“I don’t want to need you either, sugar, but as my granddaddy used to say, want in one hand and shit in the other and see which gets fuller faster.”

Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. “We’re a f**ked-up pair.”

“That we are. But I think we’d make one badass team.”

She frowned. “I already have a team.”

He put a finger over her lips. “Let’s not ruin everything. That’s just me getting carried away with wants and wishes.”

He pulled her toward the bathroom and left her standing on the cool tile while he reached in to start the water. A few moments later, steam gathered and began fogging the doors.