Detroit Combat by Randy Wayne White Page A

a new clutz high in lows. We have more in common than you think.”
    She kissed him then, harder, her mouth slightly open, her tongue tracing the stubble of beard around his lips. Her hands caressed the nape of his neck, then slid down his bare back and came to rest where the sweat pants hung low on his hips.
    She trembled as she whispered, “I haven’t been with a man for a very long time, James. A very long time. Take me, please. Do whatever you want to; don’t hold back … because I’m not going to hold back, and I want all of you. I don’t want to feel ashamed because you expect me to be timid, James. Please don’t expect me to be timid.”
    Her mouth opened completely then as Hawker kissed her. Her lips were wet and swollen, and she shuddered slightly as he stripped the sweater over her head.
    Through the silk T-shirt she wore, her nipples stood erect and he could see the round shadows of the full areolas. He massaged her through the T-shirt, then stripped that away too. Her breasts hung full and heavy and firm. The nipples tapered into swollen cones, pointed slightly upward, and she groaned and hugged his head to her as he kissed them.
    When his attention to her breasts brought her to such a fevered pitch that it seemed she might climax through just his touch, she stepped back and knelt before him. Hawker wrapped his fists in her golden hair and gazed down on her perfect face as she slid his sweat pants down to his ankles.
    â€œStep out of them,” she whispered, breathing heavily. “Step out of them and turn toward the firelight. I want to see you.”
    As Hawker turned, she opened her mouth wide and took him halfway in. Her hands on his taut buttocks, she began to move him deeply into her, then out again as Hawker groaned, his right hand still knotted in her hair, his left hand exploring the smoothness of her neck and the swell of her breasts.
    After a time, he said, “You seem to enjoy that, lady.”
    â€œUm-huh.”
    â€œKeep it up for much longer, and you’re going to get quite a surprise.”
    She slid her lips away from him long enough to smile and whisper, “Sounds delicious, James. Don’t hold back; please don’t hold back. I want all of you.”
    When Hawker could stand it no more, he forced her mouth away from him and pulled her down onto the blanket with him in front of the fire. Her hips arched as he unzipped her jeans, pulled off her boots, and stripped away the jeans. The golden firelight made the pale-blue panties appear jade green. A pale curl of pubic hair escaped on either side, and she thrust her pelvis upward to help him remove the panties.
    â€œYes, James, yes.”
    The woman’s hands wound themselves in the blanket as Hawker touched his lips to the inside of her thighs. While one hand moved from breast to heavy breast, Hawker used his tongue to explore the salted, scented depths of her.
    As she neared climax, Clare moaned a deep throaty growl of pleasure, then sat up quickly. Her kiss was bruising, and Hawker could see that her face, her lips, her complete muscle structure had gone completely slack with wanting.
    Taking her hand, Hawker pulled her to her feet. The stereo was playing an instrumental he recognized: “Our Winter Love” by Bill Purcell. Standing, he cupped his hands around the woman’s buttocks and lifted her off the floor. Hawker buried his face in her breasts, spread her slightly, and let her settle, gasping, as he slip deeply into her.
    The woman quivered as he entered her, her legs wrapped around his waist, her arms wrapped around his neck, her head thrown back and long blond hair hanging down.
    Hawker used his hands to slide her up and down upon the length of him. Soon she began to tremble violently as her hips pulsed and the color of her whole body flashed from white to ruby red, and she pulled her face against his, and she whispered in ecstasy, “Yes, James, yes, yes, yes,