Page 16 of Hazard

With a rough growl, his hand slipped into her hair, tightening in the strands, and with his other arm, he hauled her up against his body as his mouth moved hotly over hers. It was as if a gnawing craving she hadn’t been able to identify until now had just been fulfilled, but the taste of him only made her want more.

Her hand cupped his face, his stubble scratchy against her palm, his skin so warm, the textures of him something she wanted to explore—his silky hair, all that delineated muscle that she was sure ran like irresistible angles and shadows all over his delectable body, the smell of him, clean and natural, and just a tad like…cinnamon.

A violent shudder coursed through him, and Hazard tore his mouth away, his breathing harsh and labored in the silent room. He dragged in a deep, ragged breath of air, then slid his hand down to the nape of her neck. Clasping her firmly, he stared into her eyes, his gaze bemused, dazed, staggering for control.

"Archer," she whispered, loving the sound of his first name on her lips, in her mouth, and vibrating in her throat, returning the same kind of stare, finding what she had always been looking for there in the silver depths, drowning, breathing in the almost liquid air that crackled around them, gasping for oxygen, experiencing the kind of fear that had her reeling even more.

Shifting the angle of her head, he kissed her harder, his chest expanding and contracting in uneven breaths as he broke the kiss again. Every muscle in his body was tense, so hard and unyielding. He was trying to stop, and she both appreciated it and despised his attempt to get all this under control. She was trying to be good, tried with all her might to separate from him, but there was this wicked part of her that had nothing but sabotage in mind.

Feeling as if she was on the verge of splintering, she wanted to disappear in the dark from this colossal mistake, the darkness keeping their intimacy from view, but not from him, or the impression he made in her heart, overwhelming her mind, and heating her body. Overloaded with sensation, Leigh tightened her arms around him and closed her eyes, her breath catching as she opened her mouth against the soft skin of his neck, desperate for the taste of him, pushed hard by that dark, needy bitch that wouldn’t back down. A tremor coursed through him, and he stilled, his breath tripping, his grip on the back of her neck forcing her mouth back to his without mercy. She moaned against his lips, and her already aroused body responded eagerly, all liquid and burning.

He caught her head and covered her mouth in a kiss that made her sob, made her move against the hardness of him, made her crazy with wanting. Cupping her buttocks, he twisted his pelvis against her, then slid his hand beneath her sweater, the sudden release of her bra sent a gasp against his mouth. But he gave her no quarter, his hand hot against her skin as he cupped the fullness of her breast. Making a low, incoherent sound deep in his throat, he fingered the hardened nipple, then plundered her mouth with his tongue, and Leigh clutched at him, a jolt of sensation driving her deeper and deeper into the heat of urgency. Stroking his tongue with hers, she moved against him, desperate for the feel of him, silently begging for more.

His arm around her hips, he dragged her higher, crushing her against him, and Leigh sobbed out his name when she felt the hard, thick ridge of flesh against her. Frantic to feel him pressed intimately against her, she wrapped her legs around him and pulled herself flush to his groin.

Hazard shuddered, his arms convulsing around her. His hand was so tight in her hair, it was almost painful, he angled her face and took her mouth in another wild, plundering kiss, and Leigh surrendered everything to his hot, searching mouth. As if driven by an out-of-control need, he rocked his hips against her, and Leigh clutched his shoulders and for the first time in her life, she discovered what desire felt like, a thrill ride, a dangerous headlong rush into peril. He tasted like searing heat, ravenous hunger, and insatiable need all in a heavily muscled, six-foot, beautifully sculpted, lethal heart-mind-body-threatening package.

She shuddered as he carried her across the room, the movement of his thighs and hips making her ride hard against him. Crushing her to him with one arm, he carried her down onto the bed, and Leigh cried out against his mouth as his full weight settled between her thighs. Lifting her hips to accommodate him, he began thrusting against her, his mouth hungry and wild, and Leigh clutched him with her legs, frantic for the tormenting, assuaging rhythm, for the feel of his hardness deep inside her. She needed relief from the swelling, throbbing heaviness in her, to shuck the clothes that separated them, to accept every penetration, every thrust until she got what she needed from him and gave him what he needed from her.

With the chime sounding like an explosion, his cell phone went off in his back pocket, and hers started humming against her hip. It was on silent mode to keep her from distractions when she was talking to...oh God...what was his name…Nick, right. That was his name. She could barely even remember what he looked like with Hazard so close, so real and solid.

"Goddammit, Leigh. Do you always have to be so fucking difficult?" he whispered, even as she heard the frustration in his voice, appeasing her own frustration. Cursing the interruption, disappointment mixed with a myriad of emotions she had no idea what to do with, or how to even get past what was now going to be…this…between them. Where did they go from here? How was she going to reconcile all her fears and needs now that she’d tasted him and had him so freaking close, and revelations of how much she’d really wanted him, how lonely she was, how much she’d admired him?

“Yes. And I guess we’ve entered the seven rings of hell in ten minutes flat.”

He huffed out a breath, lifting away from her, and she wanted to cry, so sensitized she rolled and clenched her thighs together. “Hazard,” he answered with a growl. He listened intently, his breath still uneven. “She’s with me. We’ll be right there.” He sighed, glancing at her, then focused on the conversation again. “I’m fine.”

Which no one meant ever. No one using that word was okay.

He then looked at her. “We better get going.” He reached out his hand and she clasped it. He pulled her off the bed with such power, she was left stumbling.

She hurtled right at him, hitting his chest, and knocking the air out of her. “Geezus!” she groused, wheezing. “Do you have to be such a He-man? I think you broke my ribs.”

“You would be tucked away in bed right now, if you weren’t such a pain in my ass!” He headed for the door.

But that dark bitch in her took over. “Look who’s talking. Everything is your fault.”

He spun around so quickly, she took a step back. His intense blue eyes bore into her, searing her with that burning look. “What? If I remember correctly, you were the aggressor. You kissed me.”

“Well, you were enticing!”

“What the fuck does that mean?” He scrubbed his hand along his taut jaw.

It was satisfying to see him off-balance for a change. She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Let’s go before this gets out of hand.”

High color slashed across his cheekbones, and his lips flattened into a grim line. His gaze raked down the length of her body in one scathing glance, making her feel stripped naked. “This! Out of hand? This is already out of hand! If this was a mission, we’d both be fucked.”

She smiled confidently, making his eyes flash hotter. “Well, if we were…fucked…we’d be fucking, and we wouldn’t be arguing about this!”

“Oh, geezus! We’d have a bona fide FUBAR situation,” he said sarcastically.”

She released an exasperated breath, completely at a loss. “What the hell does that mean in civilian talk!”

“In layman’s terms for your civilian ignorance. It means we’d be double fucked!”

“And you mean not in a good way?” she asked.

He shot her a withering look, then paced, then came back to her. “I’d rather be in combat than arguing with you. At least, I can shoot at the enemy.” He stepped so close to her he was brushing her body, and everything went haywire all over again. God, this was going to be torture, then his words sank in, and they hurt, more than she was willing to admit. He seemed to bring out the worst in her, or maybe it was something else altogether like love and hate was such a fine line.

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