Free Harrier's Healer by Aliyah Burke

back.
    He skimmed her soft eyebrows with the pads of his thumbs.
    Drifting them down over her eyelids, his touch was ever so gentle. One
    finger ran down the bridge of her nose and off to the side where it
    covered her cheek.
    His hands were entirely back on her face as his thumbs moved
    tenderly over her full lips, first the top and then the bottom one. The
    other fingers trailed down the expanse of her cheeks as his hands
    moved to her neck. Her body trembled under his loving touch.
    “You are a beautiful woman,” he murmured into her ear, mov-
    ing behind her. Strong hands barely made contact with the silken skin
    of her shoulders until they reached the straps of her dress. One thick
    finger slid under each strap and glided up and down the smooth
    material.
    The hands moved on, tracing the muscles in her arms as they
    scarcely touched her skin, but they touched it more than enough to
    ignite the flames in her blood. His head dipped and Scott began to lick
    along her collarbone, delving into the hollow of her neck until her
    whole body quivered.
    Scott caressed up her arms and down the sides of her curva-
    ceous body. “I love every inch of this body of yours. Every curve you
    have was made to fit perfectly into my body.” His hands moved over
    her hips and down the tops of her thighs. “So muscular and yet so
    feminine.”
    His hands slid up under the dress, allowing their skin to con-
    nect. “Smoothness and softness to rival the most expensive silks and
    velvets.” Higher and higher his hands rose, exposing her legs to the
    night air. Soon the dress had bunched up around her waist and his
    hand was heading for the apex of her thighs.
    50
    Aliyah Burke
    “Tell me something, Alexis.”
    “What?” she whimpered.
    “Are you seeing color now?” His fingers traced the edge of her
    underwear.
    He felt her shudder.“No,” she breathed. “I’m not. Even though
    my eyes are closed, all I know is that I want to be with you. Complete-
    ly.”
    “Then open your eyes.” She did. His touch was still driving her
    crazy but as her head turned towards him, he stopped. Dropping the
    dress back down and moving his arms up to encircle around her. “And
    now?” he murmured, as she could see his face.
    “It still doesn’t matter,” she murmured.
    He nodded with relief. Thank God. “Good,” he replied as his lips
    captured hers in a loving and gentle kiss.
    “Let’s go to bed,” she offered.
    “Good idea.” He picked her up and carried her inside the house,
    stopping only to blow out the final torch.
    At her doorway, he set her down and kissed her again. “Good-
    night. I will see you in the morning. We need to leave by noon.” Anoth-
    er kiss and he slipped into the guest room and closed the door behind
    him. That was one of the hardest things he’d ever done in his entire
    thirty-seven years of life.
    Alexis stared in shock at the empty spot where, mere seconds
    ago, a man whom she wanted terribly had stood. He left her; he actually
    left her there. Why am I so freakin’ angry? I have been spouting off about the
    UCMJ, not him. Damn the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Why can’t I just
    take what he’s offering?
    “Well, hell!” she swore as she went into her room and kicked off
    her sandals, letting them land wherever, a trait not her norm. Alexis
    had never wanted a man more in her entire thirty-four years. Her body
    had gone way past damp the second he’d laid next to her on that table
    outside. Her legs still shook from the feel of his hands touching her
    body as she stood there with her eyes closed.
    Admittedly, she’d felt very exposed and vulnerable. As his quest
    had continued, however, all she could feel was the passion he felt for
    her, the raw desire in his voice as he spoke softly in the night air.
    “Damn, damn, damn, damn!” She tossed her dress over a chair
    as she slid on a pair of short, crimson Harvard boxers and a gray,
    spaghetti-strap tank top. Before she talked herself out of