Free The Stealth Commandos Trilogy by Suzanne Forster Page B

deep breath. “What does that mean exactly?”
    “You want the truth?”
    After a moment of hesitation, she nodded.
    “It means that ever since you sat down, I’ve been thinking about lifting those shirttails of yours and using this table for a bed.” He watched her breathing quicken and her color go from deep pink to scarlet. Without any effort at all Chase could imagine sweeping all the dishes aside, picking her up, and laying her down on the cool, slick oilcloth.
    He tipped back, his creaky wooden chair precariously balanced on its back legs. The scene flashed through his mind ... her hair in wild disarray as she opened her arms to receive him, her fingers tangling urgently in his hair ... her thighs soft and opened, inciting passion, and both of them too crazy with desire to bother with preliminaries.
    A sheen of sweat broke out on his brow at the imagined pleasure. Things were getting crazy again, he told himself. He was getting crazy. But what amazed him most about his reaction to her was the defection of his legendary willpower. He’d never had a problem controlling himself with women. He’d gone without sex for months at a time on a mission, just because it seemed like more trouble than it was worth. But with her he was like a stallion waiting to be led to stud.
    “Right here?” she said softly. “On the table?”
    “I’m thinking about doing things that’ll make your toes curl, Annie. Pleasures so sweet, they’ll make you want to die just a little.”
    “Die? On the table?” She raised a hand to her forehead as though she were trying to visualize such a thing. “Oh, my word,” she said, her voice thready and light. “Couldn’t we just—”
    Chase’s eyes swept over what he could see of her body, searching out the gentle swing of her breasts beneath the loose shirt. It was time to pull back from the edge, he told himself. His nerve endings were flashing messages, thickening his muscles and teasing his senses with signals. His vision sharpened until he thought he could see her nipples hardening against the cotton material. His hearing was honed for the sexy rasp of her breathing. It’s time, cowboy. Head off the thundering herd before it goes over the cliff.
    But his heart was pounding like a jackhammer, and the darkening pull of her eyes was irresistible. He let the chair legs drop to the floor as he stood up. “Couldn’t we just do what, Annie? You got a problem with doing it on the table?” he asked softly. “You’re not sure you want it that rough-and-ready?”
    Her fingers whitened against the edge of the table as she looked up at him. She could hardly get the words out. “I am sure, yes ... I—I do want that. If you do.”
    Her vulnerability enflamed his desire. She was so nakedly willing to do whatever he asked of her that Chase felt a gut-punch of animal passion. Wonder and anger and violent need all raged inside him. God, he wanted her. He was crazy, wanting her.
    He hit the chair with his leg, accidentally knocking it over. The clattering noise gave him the briefest jolt of satisfaction, and then he met her gaze. Her blue eyes were wide with alarm. She was obviously shocked by his suggestion, maybe even a little frightened, but still she was willing to go along with it. Why? What kind of cosmic joke was this? Who in the hell had sent Annie Wells to torment him?
    He yanked the chair upright and slammed it to the floor, consumed by a wave of self-disgust. He was furious at himself for what he’d done. And furious with her for what she was apparently willing to do. Good Lord, was she ready to sacrifice anything? Was her birthright, as she called it, worth that?
    “What the hell are you doing, woman?” he asked softly. “Don’t you know better than to bargain with bastards?”
    He strode to the door and threw it open, needing the fresh, cool air. Heat was steaming through his veins and rising off the back of his neck as he stood on the threshold. Right. You tell her about