Free Warrior in Her Bed by Cathleen Galitz

where he had found it. For the life of him, she looked as if she had just caught him playing with a sacred object.
    Or disturbing the dead.
    Annie clenched the drinks in her hands so tightly that Johnny thought she might actually break the glass. Although he gave her a searching look as he attempted to pry the beverages from her, she refused to acknowledge his curiosity. Instead she merely loosened her white-knuckled grip on his drink, handed it to him and gestured for him to sit down on the couch. Johnny reached out to encircle her wrist with his free hand. Their gazes collided and held for a look before a gentle tug pulled Annie into the seat next to him.
    The two measly plastic trays of ice in her freezer didn’t stand a chance of cooling things off between them, Annie realized watching the cubes in her drink melt. One big gulp of her drink convinced her that she hadn’t made it nearly strong enough. The mere proximity of the man sitting beside her made her feel nervous. And feverish all over. There was little hope that scintillating conversation would be of much use in this situation. Try as she might, Annie couldn’t think of a single thing to say, and Johnny didn’t seem much inclined to polite chitchat. As usual he took a far more direct route.
    â€œWhere exactly do you think this is going to lead?”
    The question took Annie aback. Not simply because it was the same question that she had beenasking herself ever since she had agreed to go out with him, but rather because the answer that immediately popped into her head was so utterly shocking.
    In my bed!
    Setting her drink down next to his on the coffee table with a shaky hand, she admitted honestly enough, “As a matter of fact I don’t know.”
    â€œWell, I do, my little wind dancer,” Johnny said, wrapping a tendril of her blond hair around his index finger and drawing it sensuously across his own lips. “And I’m not at all sure you’re ready to go there.”
    Annie felt the air catch in her throat. Hypnotized by eyes that invited her to look into the unexplored universe of this man’s soul, she felt inexorably compelled to follow his lead. Tentatively she reached out to touch his hair. It felt as thick and soft as black velvet. Trailing her nails along the exposed nape of his neck, she made Johnny groan softly. The sound stirred the blood coursing through her own veins in hot, intemperate spurts.
    She wet her lips with her tongue. Unmistakable yearning flashed in Johnny’s eyes as he abandoned the single tendril that he held. Firmly but gently he grabbed an entire handful of golden hair. Annie heard herself whimper as he tilted her head back. It was not a sound of pain but rather one of longing emanating from a secret place deep inside her that she kept from even herself. Never before had Annie felt such a needy ache.
    â€œYou’re wrong about that,” she assured him in a throaty whisper.
    Instantly Johnny loosened his hold on the golden mane threaded between his fingers, and Annie realized that he had misunderstood her.
    â€œI’m as ready as I’ve ever been or will be,” she clarified for the record.
    To Annie’s surprise instead of sounding like a frightened spinster, she heard the voice of a woman who knew exactly what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it.
    It was all the encouragement Johnny needed. His mouth found the vulnerable angle of her neck and caressed it so tenderly that Annie thought she would have to beg him to stop.
    Goose bumps betrayed flesh that was all too willing to submit to this man’s will. Her own ill-fated past left Annie unprepared for the feelings welling up inside her. Suddenly the world simply ceased to exist outside her skin, as a wanton, wonderful creature of the senses triumphed over the analytic part of her brain, who so convincingly warned others to stop and think before making any life-altering decisions.
    â€œAre you