Battlescars by Ann Collins Page B

much she knew about him, he was pretty sure she was the kind of girl who did her homework. And even if she didn’t, he learned through the long day at the animal shelter that Kayla believed in giving second chances. She might have dealt with one hell of a childhood, but she had a sweetness about her that said those experiences hadn’t broken her. Even so, she understood what it meant to be through hell and back.
    Dyson thought that maybe, just maybe, she might be the one woman who could see past the stigma of his past and look toward a future that he hoped would be bright.
    He smiled up at the ceiling as he thought about it. Maybe that’s why he was okay with moving slowly. Since Dyson had wanted to avoid emotional entanglements, he’d gotten down to business and wasted no time getting horizontal with his one-night stands. Kayla was a whole different story. He was surprised to find that he was not just willing to tolerate a slower pace, but he actually looked forward to drawing out the anticipation of making love to Kayla. Making love – rather than getting laid – was new ground for Dyson, but he thought he might be ready.
    When Dyson thought back to the kisses they had enjoyed the night he walked her home from the bar, the way she moved against him, the way she grabbed his hair and pulled him closer to her, the way she had kissed him with everything she was worth, holding nothing back…he questioned how long he’d be able to keep his desire in check. All signs indicated that Kayla was liable to go off like a firecracker the moment she completely opened up and let him in.
    “In every sense of the word,” he murmured, and grinned mischievously.
    Ever since their date, Dyson had been on a sexual edge that was both delicious and frustrating. He would have given anything to take Kayla to bed that night, but he wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he had done that. The walk back to his car and the drive home had actually been painful because of the his hard on, and he could hardly wait to get home and relieve his sexual frustration – not once, but twice. Both times, it had been Kayla’s face and Kayla’s body that he’d fantasized about, and he couldn’t help but add the excitement of pleasuring her in a public place like the couple they’d watched on the balcony.
    Dyson was surprised how often he thought about Kayla and how often he imagined her in a variety of ways – dressed up in a dress and high heels, in a sexy little scrap of lacy lingerie, or even just in the jeans she’d been wearing when he met her – perfectly fitted and molded to her curves. When he awoke, she was the first thing on his mind, and as he slid his hand under the covers to reach for his morning erection, he wondered about what she wore to bed, what she looked like without a stitch of clothing on, and what he would do to her once he had her that way.
    Oh, he had plans for that. The only problem was deciding which plan he wanted more than the others. He closed his eyes and tried to pick a scenario, but all of them seemed so delicious that he wanted to combine them all into one long, slow night that would fulfill every fantasy he had ever had about Kayla. Since he couldn’t have it all – yet, anyway – he settled for the visions in his head of her on her knees before him, looking up at him with those eyes that fixed him and made it impossible for him to even think about looking away.
    He imagined her opening her mouth and teasing him with it, while touching herself at the same time, and the sight of her slipping her finger inside herself threatened to make him come before the fun even started. He watched as she licked her lips and gave him that particular grin of hers, the one that he already knew so well – the one that said she had a naughty streak inside her.
    Then she leaned forward and took him into her mouth with slow licks and kisses, taking her time, taking more of him into her hot, wet mouth until he was buried