Dungeon Games by Lexi Blake Page B

kissed you because I figured the dream was from your Army days. I’d tried to talk you awake, but I figured you probably hadn’t kissed your Army buddy a whole lot.”
    He chuckled and she felt it all along her spine. “No. I hadn’t even kissed Jones once. It was effective. You stayed calm, didn’t you? I didn’t really worry you at all.”
    She would bet he’d freaked the hell out of other women. “It takes a lot to panic me, Brighton. I know you don’t like it, but I can handle myself. And I can handle you. You weren’t going to hurt me.”
    “I almost killed Maia once. I thought I was trying to keep Jones quiet, but she was smaller than him. I covered her nose, too. She couldn’t breathe. She hit me, but I didn’t wake up. She finally managed to pick up a glass on the nightstand and broke it over my thick skull.”
    So he had his reasons to be worried. “I’m not Maia. I’m bigger and stronger than she is. I bet she hasn’t had the same self-defense training I’ve had.”
    His hands began to stroke her. One flowed over her hair, the other down her back. “Yeah, she wouldn’t have thought to kiss me. Do you think you might want to kiss me in some situation other than trying to save your own life?”
    Such a drama queen. She lifted her head and found him staring down at her. Heart-stoppingly sexy. That’s what he was. With his sleepy eyes and that sexy beard of his, she couldn’t quite look away from him. And his lips. Oh, they were plump and sensual and she wondered what it would feel like to have those lips on her body, worshiping her skin, kissing and licking and sucking.
    She had a choice. She could step back and go to her widow’s bed or she could make one small move and the night wouldn’t be spent alone. She would spend it in his arms and she would finally know what it felt like to be Derek Brighton’s woman—even if only for a little while.
    With a shaky breath, she went on her toes and pressed her lips to his.
     
    * * * *
     
    Derek’s whole body reacted to her. His heart pounded, his skin tingled. Every available ounce of blood seemed to flow right to his dick. She was saying yes. She was offering herself, and he wasn’t about to turn her down.
    The need to burn off the dream was riding him hard. When he’d finally woken up and found Karina’s body trapped under his, he’d damn near lost it. He could have hurt her, could have killed her. It was precisely why he didn’t sleep with women. He fucked and pleasured and found his comfort in their bodies, but he went to his own bed so he couldn’t hurt them.
    Except Karina really did seem to have handled him.
    He gave her a minute, allowed her to explore. Her mouth was oddly tentative for an experienced woman, but then Karina seemed to be a study in contradictions. She was on her toes, her hands moving from around his chest to his jawline where she brushed against his beard, her light touches making him shiver slightly.
    He didn’t shiver. He didn’t get this weird tightness in his stomach. He fucked. He brought pleasure. He didn’t get worried or nervous.
    But he was kind of both because he wanted her so fucking bad, he couldn’t see straight.
    From the moment he’d woken up and found her underneath him, his cock had jumped and pleaded and twitched in his pants. His brain might know that she wasn’t his type but his cock had entirely different ideas about what was attractive.
    She kissed him and he kept still, allowing her to explore, to be in charge for now because she wouldn’t be later. What was attractive? She was. God, he loved the fact that she’d been willing to take off his balls if she had to. He also kind of loved that she’d come up with a way to save his balls.
    He could still remember Maia crying. She’d sobbed for hours after the incident. Not Karina. Karina had that crazy sexy smile on her face that let him know she hadn’t been bothered at all by his PTSD dreams. She’d handled it. She’d taken care of it and