In Control by Michelle Robbins

independence, she warmed in his presence. It felt natural, normal, and healthy to have him there. She wasn't afraid.
    He set the can's edge to her lips and tipped it as she opened her mouth. Cold beer filled her mouth, the taste of hops and a hint of seasoning that spoke of a wild, foreign country. Delightful! She could understand why the Vietnamese people liked this beverage. Now she understood why he'd bought a six-pack.
    "Where did you learn about Vietnamese beer?" she asked.
    He leaned close to whisper again. "I spent some time on a Korean base."
    She shivered as his breath tickled the skin. "They have Vietnamese beer on a Korean base?"
    He did a double take at the question, but answered politely enough, "That bar did."
    A silly question, she admitted to herself. Of course, the local watering hole would cater to all nationalities, especially those in close proximity. Importing beer from 'Nam had to be a lot cheaper than hauling cases of American beer over the ocean. Well, if Vietnam was closer than America, that is...which it was...right?
    She picked up a plate loaded with food and offered it. "Ready to eat?"
    "You have no idea how hungry I am." He nearly purred as he accepted it.
    She felt her blush deepen as a burn fired across her cheeks. Bubbles fizzed in her blood as it rushed through her body. She said nothing and followed him out of the kitchen. This time, they commandeered the over-stuffed sofa and sat side-by-side to enjoy the meal.
    It was a delight to learn they shared similar tastes in offbeat comedies. Their mutual laughter filled the condo as the two buddies on the screen crashed wedding after wedding in their quest for a hookup. Soon their plates were empty and only the movie credits remained.
    And her thoughts.
    He slipped another disk into the DVD player and returned to the couch, where he sat back with a sigh and positioned his arm along the backrest. Her shoulders brushed his arm when she breathed. Embers of the fire they'd built together heated, causing what felt like a caramelizing of her blood.
    He turned her on just by sitting next to her. That fact pissed her off, especially since last night's fiasco, where he'd resisted her attempts to bring him to orgasm. That was no easy task, if she did say so herself. She was more than capable of driving a man to his knees. Her sexual history had proven that, but he-- Hell, he'd chosen not to come.
    As easy as that. Just an inner "nope" and done-done-done.
    She'd never been able to control her orgasms like that.
    In fact, it was an astonishing glimpse of his control, unsettling and aggravating as well.
    Annabel controlled the bedroom, no matter the "dynamic" displayed to outsiders. She chose where, when, and how a man would be permitted to use her body and, if things were blended properly, she was known to find pleasure in the business. Hell, yeah, she was the one in control. Well, except for Zach, Mr. My-dick-My-choice Roberson. Fucker .
    Not gonna happen again. No way.
    She adjusted herself on the couch, sliding over his lap with a twist of her body. Zach gave a grunt as she disturbed his focus on the movie. She reclined against the plump armrest and gave him what she hoped was a dazzling smile. He rewarded her with a narrowed look sent from suspicious eyes.
    "Stuffed," she said and patted her tummy. Not much of an excuse, true, but it would do until she made her move.
    As expected, Zach adjusted his position to accommodate her weight over his thighs and returned his attention to the movie. He moved his arm from the backrest, flicked up the edge of her skirt, and idly rubbed the bared knee. Her nipples tightened. He took a pull from the beer can sitting beside his elbow. The gleam of moisture on his lips turned her mouth into a desert of need. He licked his lips. She swallowed hard.
    She'd watch the movie later, maybe even somewhere else. Right now, she had more interesting fun in mind: having her way with his gorgeous body.
    She put her hand into his lap at