"His eyes were gray. No blue. No gray. Damn she
tell. His finger was travelling down her neck. Soft touches
now. Down and down. She felt his finger graze the side of
her breast. She took a deep, deep breath and then she bit
down hard on her lip.
"I'm collecting on that rain check. We could use a
There was only one explanation for her reaction. Men
like Damon were born with the gene. The
fallâ€“forâ€“me or regret it forever gene. That was
the only explanation. It certainly didn't have anything to
do with his badâ€“boy attitude, or the uniform although
she always had a thing for a man in a uniform. But that was
the old her. The less wise her. The her, who had let a man
destroy her future.
"Damon, I know your type and I don't want to play."
His finger had it reached Nirvana and she was finding it
hard to think of more reasons not to say yes. With his
finger circling her nipple she could feel her blood racing,
her breath slowing and heat pouring from every pore.
Liquid heat rushed out shamefully warning her he was
dangerous. But his fingers wouldn't stop and her nipples
were highly sensitized. She could feel the ache and she
wanted him to pull up her shirt and feel his hands on her
naked skin. But she couldn't ask for it.
"Your nipples tell a different story. They tell me you
want me as much as I want you.""
Her mouth dried.
"Only if you ask me nicely."