Hot breath blew across her stomach. She shivered with a rush of pleasure. Okay, she could get into this.
He kissed lower. Lower still until bold hands nudged her legs. Parted her. Tasted her.
Her knees refused to support her.
Thank heaven his hands did. Broad palms cupped her hips, lifted and secured her against the shower stall as he spread her farther with his shoulders. Darcy flattened her hand to the wall as sensation washed over her with each glide of his tongue. Her pulse pounded through her veins just as the powerful spray of water throbbed against her body. Need throbbed even lower still.
Built. Swelled. Exploded over her, sending rainbow shards of light sparking through the water spraying over them.
Delicious shimmers rocked right through, leaving her thighs shaking and her body craving even closer connection. She twisted her fingers in his hair and tugged. "Now, Max, really no more."
He rose through the steam, kissing his way up her body, cupping her br**sts to drink the water from each tip before he grazed over her neck. Finally he met her face-to-face.
"Much more," he repeated, molding his body to hers, lifting her.
Her feet dangled. She was losing control. And it would be so easy to lose control with Max calling the shots. She trusted him. She wanted him. But some stubborn part of her still yearned to employ a few seductive moves of her own this first time. If only she had the confidence here she had in her plane, where no matter what fate threw her way, instincts ruled.
Instinct. The number-one flyer rule—trust the instincts.
A slow spiral of women's intuition as old as time smoked through her. She draped her arms over his shoulders. Instinct guided her foot up the back of his calf. He groaned.
Satisfaction spurred her. Oh, yeah. Instincts definitely ruled.
She hooked a leg around his hip, bringing them both closer. The heat of him throbbed against the cradle of her stomach, ready. She refused to let fears or insecurities tense her. She wanted this, everything. Now. Instinct would guide her on what to do next.
Darcy shut down her brain, closed her eyes and readied to fly straight into the mist.
Max gritted his teeth, trying like hell not to fly out of control, instead to press gradually, carefully into the satin grip drawing him deeper. Darcy's Norplant allowed him to enter her without anything between them. He could feel every square inch of her. Deeper until he met resistance.
He steadied his breathing. Willed himself to go easy. Take it slow for her. A damned tough proposition with Darcy arching against him with a needy sigh, bringing herself down—
She winced. He tucked her close and stilled, water, steam and silken woman against him, around him while he waited, chest pumping a ragged pace under the strain of holding back. But he would, damn it. For her.
And then she moved.
Man, did she ever move. Darcy hitched her leg higher, rocked against him with a natural rhythmic grace that threatened to send him hurtling over the edge.>Her fingers combed through his spiky hair as she'd longed to do countless times since she'd first eyed the sun-kissed strands. She submerged herself in the sensation of his coarse hair rasping over her sensitized skin. Not because of a need for risks or adventure, but in a heart-twisting hope to connect with Max on a deeper level.
They'd both almost died. The thought tore through her—that they might never have shared this moment. That she could have lost him before she'd ever had the chance to really know him.
She would know him now, if only on this superficial level. A meeting and mating of their bodies to affirm life.
Darcy molded herself closer to the hard wall of his chest and struggled to will away somber thoughts. Some things in life were beyond her control. Finding a way to hold on to the special bond with Max might well be beyond her control. She gripped him tighter, locked him closer, not nearly close enough.
Max buried his face in her hair, his hands low, guiding her h*ps against his. "I wish I could take you somewhere special, memorable, out under the sun. For weeks, I've wanted to peel that bathing suit off you, make love to you on a sandbar." He stroked the back of one finger down her neck, lower, dipping into the collar of her flight suit and hooking around her chain. "See you wearing nothing but the sun and these."
Her dog tags dangled from the crook of his finger.
Darcy glided her hand along his cheek. "Seems to me we've already had the wide-open-spaces experience, and it didn't end very well for us."
His hand clenched around the chain. "No baggage from that day."
She totally agreed. They'd earned this time together, damn it. She arched up on her toes. "Here is good." Perfect. "Any military brat worth his salt should know it's not where you are but who you're with that counts."
"Touche. And now you're about to be with me."
Darcy stared into his eyes, deeper, and saw him because finally he opened himself up enough to let her inside. This man who was too well versed in keeping his identity hidden.
But not now.