Chain of Command by Helenkay Dimon

until you scream my name.”
    The last words rumbled against her. His lips touched her ear and her knees buckled.
    Hell, even her vision blurred. She’d never lost the power of sight over a guy before. “You’re so subtle.”
    A bell dinged in the background. It seemed out of place until she remembered the chicken and the timer. Food...something about food.
    “I’ve wanted you since the first time I saw you.” His lips brushed over her forehead. “The need only got stronger the second time.”
    “Even with the bat?” For a guy who claimed not to like romance he had a knack for it. He hadn’t even used those hands to really touch her yet and the room spun on her.
    “That only added to your hotness.”
    “You have some fetish that includes being beaten?” Man, she hoped not. The whole hot, wet and deep thing...count her in. Punching each other? Not something that revved her up at all. She liked touching and tasting, not pain.
    “Not even a little.” After a brief kiss on her nose he pulled back. Stared down at her. “But I do have a thing for women who can handle themselves. Something about seeing them in control and strong makes me think they’ll be wild in bed.”
    And with that the last of her resistance crumbled. He broke through her defenses and unless he screwed up big in the next few seconds, she was going to be all over him.
    “I vowed to stay away from military men.” And he tested that big-time. Tested, won and sent her personal promises down in flaming defeat.
    “Why is that again?”
    The string of deaths started with her parents and continued through to Rob. She no longer had a defense except to push out men that might hurt her. Not by being jerks but by dying. “That danger we talked about.”
    He skimmed his lips over her cheek. “It’s more than that.”
    The touching and deep caress of his voice had her giving in. “I’m tired of losing people.”
    He kissed her forehead. “Me too.”
    She pulled back so she could see his face, search his eyes. She saw nothing but honesty there.
    “I figured you’d made at least a temporary exception on your military blackout when you invited me to dinner here.” His thumb traced over her bottom lip.
    The soft touch was just about the sexiest thing she’d ever felt. Or it would be until he did the next thing. This guy had serious skills.
    “A reasonable conclusion,” she said, half babbling and half trying to stay connected to the conversation in some way.
    “But not accurate?”
    “Your sex talk did up the stakes.” Made her forget about food. Even the pound cake didn’t hold any interest for her right now, and that was saying something because she could hoover one of those things for breakfast without ever picking up a fork. All five billion calories of it.
    He cupped his palm over her cheek. “You mean my talk about fucking.”
    There it was again. The word that darted through her until her carefully constructed defenses blew apart. “Right, fucking.”
    “You know what I think?”
    She didn’t really care what he said next. It was all starting to sound like gibberish in her head. All but the “fucking” part. “I can’t really breathe at the moment.”
    He stood up straight and lifted her hands off the counter. With a gentle pull, he wrapped them around his waist to rest on his lower back. “We could spend the next hour trying to choke down food while we think about what it would be like to taste each other, or—”
    “What?” Her insides jumbled and tension welled.
    “I could kiss you now.”
    Excellent plan. Kissing, touching, dropping to the floor. She was in for all of it. But first things first. She held up a finger then broke free of the circle of his arms.
    “What exactly are you doing?” He sounded more amused than angry.
    “I’m betting once we start kissing we won’t stop.” She found a towel and folded it over and over before opening the oven. The scent of baked chicken mixed with rosemary and lemon spilled