Free Warrior in Her Bed by Cathleen Galitz Page A

sure?” Johnny asked, wanting to be positive that she understood the implications of the question by firmly guiding one of her hands toward the rock-hard bulge between his thighs.
    Annie’s eyes widened. Her own sexual experience was limited. Clearly Johnny was more generously endowed than any man she had been with before. And although it suddenly occurred to her in addition to complicated emotional considerations she might not be physically up to the task, the roaring in her ears assured her that it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but the compelling need she felt to join with this man in the most intimate way.
    To unite her body with his.
    â€œI’m sure,” she lied, closing her eyes and pulling Johnny’s head toward a kiss that was certain to change the course of destiny.

Six
    J ohnny’s lips covered hers, sending Annie into a free fall that left her so dizzy she could do little but hang on to the strong column of his neck for fear of flying right off the face of the planet and entering uncharted space. When his tongue stroked hers, demanding access to her very soul, she put up no resistance. Rather she gave as good as she got and was rewarded for her efforts with the sound of a masculine moan against her lips. Trembling in his arms, Annie succumbed to the realization that she had never in her whole life experienced such a kiss.
    It was the kind of kiss a girlfriend might describe to another over coffee as knocking her socks off. Considering the fact that Annie was about to lose a whole lot more than just her stockings, Johnny’s kiss was appreciably more powerful than anything she could hope to put into words. Something about theexposed back of this man’s neck brought out the primal in her. The feel of closely cropped hair along his neckline was incredibly sensual as she continued upward, running her hands through his silken thatch of black, black hair. Clinging to him, Annie gave herself permission to revel in the heady sensations of the flesh without regard to any emotional consequences.
    When he finally broke that kiss, Johnny was breathing hard. He paused to study her as if looking for the reserved teacher he had taken to the powwow. Who was this wanton creature that had switched places with her? Surprised by the intensity of the chemistry between them, he sought answers in eyes the color of cornflowers.
    Those eyes shimmered with undisguised longing. Annie instinctively understood that from this point onward there would be no backing down. Silently praising herself for having enough self-control not to rip Johnny’s clothes off him right there in front of the living room’s picture window, she decided against giving any passersby a cheap thrill. Somehow she managed to disengage herself from Johnny’s arms and attempted to stand up. The light-headedness that forcefully set her back down upon the couch had absolutely nothing to do with low blood pressure.
    Or cold feet.
    It had everything to do with the enormity of the step she was preparing to take. Steadying herself against Johnny’s hard chest, she asked for his help. He was on his feet in an instant, pulling her gently up beside him. Taking his hand she led him down the hallway to her bedroom.
    The trip took no longer than eternity.
    Â 
    To Johnny the step across the threshold covered the span of two very different worlds.
    A yellow coverlet on Annie’s bed matched the curtains fluttering against a partially open window. Johnny blinked his eyes against the cheerful color. Feeling out of place, he couldn’t help casting himself as some kind of dark interloper against the forces of light: a native version of Darth Vader forcing himself upon sweet, innocent Pollyanna.
    Correction: Polly-Annie.
    An antique brass headboard gleamed beneath the sunlight spilling into the room. In the light, Annie’s hair formed a luminous halo about her face, making her seem all the more angelic. Flushed with the prospect