Between Duty and Desire by Leanne Banks Page A

slide inside her right now. She wasn’t at all cognizant of their proximity to the public bar, and he barely was.
    He should stop, show some sanity, but oh—she felt so good, and she was wiggling against him like she couldn’t get close enough. He wanted just a littlemore. Just a little more, he thought, as he slid his fingers between her legs and found her warm and wet.
    “Oh, you feel so good,” he muttered.
    She moaned into his mouth and he stroked her, finding her bead of femininity swollen. He rubbed her with his thumb and plunged his finger inside her. The pitch of her voice changed, higher, more desperate. More than anything, he wanted to take care of the need he felt and heard coming from inside her.
    He French-kissed her as he stroked her sweet spot and she opened her mouth gasping. He felt her contract intimately in his hand. “I—I—ohhhhhh.” He covered her mouth with his to conceal the volume, drinking in her cry of pleasure.
    “Oh my G—” She broke off and gasped for air, clinging to him. She ducked her head in his shoulder. “I don’t know whether to die from embarrassment or just thank you,” she finally managed in a husky breath.
    “Why embarrassment?” he asked, trying unsuccessfully to nudge her head upward. “Embarrassment,” he muttered, still hard as a brick. “Do you have any idea how sexy you were?”
    “Yeah, right,” she said in disbelief. “Sexy like a cat in heat. Screaming and mewing. Did I leave claw marks?”
    “No,” he said and chuckled. “But the evening’s young.”
    She slowly lifted her head, her eyes full of pleasure and shimmering with the beginning of desire.“I’ve never done that—” she cleared her throat self-consciously “—on the—”
    “Beach. There’s a drink called Sex on the Beach. I take it you’ve never had it.”
    She shook her head. “I never had body slammers, either.”
    “Looks like I’m leading you down the road to perdition. Are you sure you wanna go?”
    Her eyes darkened. “Race ya,” she said. “Can we go to your place?”

Nine
    Marine Lingo Translation
Mattress pressing: Sleeping.

    B rock drove them to his condo. Callie didn’t say a word, but he could practically hear her emotions rattling inside her with the force of a hurricane.
    He was still aroused, raring to go, ready in every way. He took a deep breath and worked at putting out the fire, or at least bringing it under control.
    She’d lost her nerve. He felt a sinking disappointment, and something deeper, and shook it off. Maybe it was for the best.
    He pulled into a spot in front of his condo and shifted into a Park. Sighing, he turned to her. “Hey, I can take you home. It’s no problem.”
    “Why?” she asked.
    Confused by the note of surprise in her voice, he looked at her. “You haven’t said anything. You’re having second thoughts. I understand.”
    “I’m not having second thoughts,” she said.
    Growing impatient, he rolled his eyes. “Callie, you’ve been completely silent.”
    “Well, excuse me, but maybe I’m a little nervous. It’s been a while for me. And you’re, well, you’re different,” she said in a huffy voice. “What if you end up thinking I’m a dud in bed and—”
    He couldn’t hold back a chuckle.
    “And now you’re laughing at me. Maybe I am having second thoughts,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
    Laughing again in some crazy combination of relief and frustration, he pulled her against him. “Don’t worry about being a dud.”
    “Easy for you to say, Mr. Romeo.”
    He pressed his forehead against hers. “I told you I’m no Romeo. I didn’t have to work that hard. Romeo had to try harder.”
    “That’s right. The women fall into your hands like water from the faucet. I’m just like the rest of them, Brock.”
    “No you’re not,” he said. “No—”
    She lifted her finger to his lips to stop his words. “I’m just like the rest of them. I need to be just like the rest of them.”
    She