Sarah's Surrender by Lynda Chance

stomach began churning with John's sudden appearance in the dark of the night. A bolt of lightning crashed outside and she flinched and crossed her arms over her chest as she took a step backwards. Goosebumps broke out on her flesh as he caught and held her eyes.
    The conversation she'd had with Jaime replayed loudly in her brain and she remembered her friend's warning. She tried to remember that he was a danger to her sanity, a threat to her equilibrium.
    He stood against the door watching her, not making a move toward her and not saying a word, either. She studied him while she tried to control the too-fast cadence of her heartbeat. She recognized the untapped power coiling through his frame; he exuded masculinity as he studied her in return. He had a vital strength that attracted her, his tall figure was deliciously appealing as he stood before her, his clothes wet from the rain. His hair was darker than usual, the wet strands gleaming in the lamplight as they clung to his forehead, a stark contrast to his deeply tanned skin.
    "You make the phone call?" he asked in a deep, too silky voice.
    Sarah's brain splintered as she thought for a moment of the phone call she'd made to Jaime, asking her friend about him. Then it hit her what he was talking about; he was asking if she'd made the phone call to end her engagement. "Yes," she breathed out.
    "You broke it off?" he demanded.
    "Yes," she answered softly.
    He pushed off the door with a booted foot and began prowling toward her. His eyes held something in them that she was too nervous to contemplate. He exuded a single-mindedness that showed no sign of letting up as he came toward her with that damned arrogant swagger of his firmly in place.
    Sarah took another step back and lifted a hand to ward him off. "But--"
    He grabbed her hand and cut her off. "No buts." He pulled her to him, and the force of the movement on her hand propelled her torso towards his. Her chest crashed against his and he wrapped his other arm around her. "Finally, Jesus, " he muttered as his mouth lowered to hers.
    Sarah felt his scent wash over her, and need, swift and immediate, raced through her veins. She wrapped her arm around his neck and kissed him back; the intoxicating pressure of his body against hers pounded a relentless beat to surrender. Her pulse danced with excitement and she rode the wave that sizzled through her bloodstream, ignoring the warning, "Stop!" that her brain was screaming from the sidelines.
    His hand released her wrist, moved to the hem of her shirt and peeled it over her head, the force of the movement breaking the kiss and jostling her arms away from his neck.
    It took her totally by surprise, and it was the catalyst she needed to get a grip on her runaway emotions. She took several deep gulps and when he wrapped his arms around her waist again, she wedged her hands between them and began pushing against his chest. She needed to slow him down.
    He was moving too fast for her. Entirely too fast. Even if she had been completely sure she was going to give in to him, it would be too soon. But she wasn't sure anymore. The conversation with Jaime had tilted her on her axis, and she felt as if she had a new understanding of him. It wasn't something that she was pleased with, either.
    John felt her withdrawal and frustration screamed through his guts. The pleasure he felt just from having her in his arms and kissing her was mind-blowing. It was beyond his comprehension and experience that she wouldn't want to act on it. He looked down at the simple white cotton of her bra and impatience exploded inside him. Her skin was impossibly white, the top swells of her breasts were making him ache. He felt a sharp sense of urgency to take her, both to cement his hold on her through a sexual relationship and to alleviate the churning in his groin. The fact that she was trying to slow him down was completely unacceptable. He reached for her at the same time as she grabbed her t-shirt from his