Free Dangerous in Training (Aegis Group, #2) by Sidney Bristol

against her hip.
    Fear and excitement mingled together, warring for dominance. His lips latched onto that spot, the one at the juncture where her shoulder met her neck, and sucked.
    Someone—wait, was that her?—moaned. Loudly.
    Her knees tried to give out on her, and if it weren’t for Mason’s big body propping her up, she might have become a puddle on the floor. The rush of blood past her ears drowned out everything else. Arousal pumped through her body. Her nipples tightened, aching to feel his fingers. Her toes curled into the carpet.
    Holy hell, yes!
    The door beeped and Mason fumbled with the handle. She staggered backward into the dark room, his arm around her waist. Laughter bubbled up her throat, a mix of nerves and excitement.
    Her best fantasies paled in comparison to reality.
    He shoved the door closed with a heavy thud, plunging them into relative darkness. The balcony curtains were open, spilling in moonlight, bathing the bed in a silvery glow.
    His hands were everywhere, touching her, tweaking a nipple, getting tangled in her cover-up. It was too fast—and not fast enough.
    Was this what she wanted? To feel like a starving person rushing toward a feast? To jump in with no life preserver?
    She wasn’t sure she could stop the forward momentum.
    Mason grasped her ass in both hands and hauled her up against his chest. She clung to his shoulders to keep from losing her balance.
    This was happening.
    “I want to fuck you so bad,” he said against her cheek.
    His words set her heart galloping. What did that mean? Would it hurt?
    He gently lowered her to her feet. She felt his muscles trembling under her palms, much the same way her body shook.
    “You make me lose my head, Hannah. I can’t think about anything but you.”
    His words were raw, as if they were ripped from deep inside. Nothing between them was one-sided. He felt things, too.
    She clutched his face in both hands. Those words could be hers. Every day, every time she went to the gym, he was in her thoughts. If he was there, she wanted to know how he was doing, if his leg was giving him any problems, where he’d been. If he was gone, she needed to know where he was. She’d often have to excuse herself for a moment to breathe past the panic of not knowing if he was okay. Somehow, with no more than a little time spent together, they’d become entwined on a level so deep that not being near him hurt.
    She squeezed her eyes closed, as if that would somehow keep the feelings bubbling up inside her at bay.
    “Now you know how I’ve been feeling.” Her voice trembled, but so what? He was being honest, why couldn’t she?
    “We shouldn’t say those things.” His fingers traversed her lips.
    “Why not?” She blinked back the tears he couldn’t see. Damn her father. “If we’re pretending this weekend, why not say what we want? It’s our only chance.”
    “I can’t resist you, Hannah. I’ve tried.”
    Shit, she was going to cry at this rate—so not sexy.
    “But that’s the point, we don’t have to resist. Not now.” She rubbed her hand across his jaw, his stubble rasping across her palm.
    Mason grasped the hem of her damp cover-up and pulled it over her head. It was completely transparent, it didn’t actually cover an inch of her, and yet without it she fought against the urge to shield herself. Except Mason had already seen most of her in an up-front and personal kind of way.
    He dropped the garment on the floor and stepped in close, pinning her against the closet doors. The light streaming in through the glass doors on the other side of the room was just the right amount of illumination, leaving enough darkness for her to hide her fears in. That sex might hurt. That she could do it all wrong. That he’d figure out she’d never been with a man before.
    She wasn’t going to tell him.
    Somewhere between the beach and here, in this moment, she’d chosen the path of least resistance. Of not telling him.
    It was her secret. Her truth.