More Than Friends (The Warriors) by Laura Taylor Read Free Book Online Page A

earlier when I told you I trusted you. Why?"
    "I’m no Boy Scout. Never have been."
    "And I’m too old to be a Girl Scout. So where does that leave us?"
    He saw the recklessness that glinted in her eyes. This was not the Leah he remembered. Micah had warned him that she’d grown assertive and outspoken, but he hadn’t listened. He knew now that he should have.
    He tugged her forward so that she rested against the hard wall of his chest. Despite the torment of having her draped across his torso, he gently stroked her back until her breathing slowed to an even pace. When she sighed, he felt the wash of her warm breath against his neck and knew she’d finally stopped fighting herself and him.
    "Talk to me, please," she whispered. "Tell me about my life. I need to know about myself."
    "Your thirtieth birthday was last month," he began in a steady voice despite the agony of having her molded tightly to his body. "You’re beautiful and funny and smart. Everyone loves you. You’ve got a stubborn streak ten miles wide, you’re one of the most honest women I’ve ever known, and you aren’t afraid to get your hands dirty if there’s work to be done. You’re strong and courageous in a crisis, and you’re compassionate and patient when your friends need you."
    Surprise and pleasure brightened her eyes as she eased back and stared at him. "Maybe I
am
Girl Scout."
    "You were." He smiled, and it lessened the fatigue that shadowed his eyes.
    "I actually sound like a nice person."
    "You’re more than nice. Much more," he said, his voice low and his eyes so dark that they looked black.
    She sank against him once more, her breasts plumping against his hard chest, her gently rounded stomach mating with the rock solid surface of his belly, and her inner thighs like soft brackets on either side of his narrow hips. Wrapping her arms around him, she rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
    Brett continued to run his hands up and down her narrow back. He lost track of time and the world. Focused on Leah, he felt every breath she took and heard every sigh that escaped her. She began to drift off, her shapely body going slack against him. For his part, he felt as though someone had poured hot lava over his body and set a match to his senses.
    Lowering his hands once he heard the measured cadence of her deepening respiration, he cupped her hips, closed his eyes, and savored his sensual memories of this woman in his arms. The woman whose skin turned to hot satin in the throes of passion, the woman who’d always given of herself with sensual generosity and spontaneity, and the woman who had conceived a son in his bed before he’d thrown her away like a fool.
    As his mind continued to produce a series of erotic images, Brett’s body tightened until he felt that so much as a glance from Leah would incinerate his soul. He inhaled, taking in the scent of her skin, and then he exhaled raggedly. He shuddered a few seconds later, aware that he couldn’t risk having her in his arms much longer. Moving carefully, he shifted her off his lap and back onto the bed.
    "What’s the matter?" she asked as he settled her on her pillow and smoothed her hair away from her face.
    "Nothing. Go back to sleep," he urged, his hand cradling her cheek as he leaned over her.
    Her eyes fluttered closed. She turned her face to his open palm and pressed her lips to his callused skin, shocking him with the wet glide of the tip of her tongue and the imprint of her lips.
    She both branded him and humbled him in that instant. Even without a single memory of her life, Leah still possessed the instinct–driven ability to express her feelings.
    The dam restraining his emotions and desires crumbled under the force of her tender kiss. Desperate for the taste of her, he relinquished the control he’d always demanded of himself. He claimed her mouth. Shattering hunger and painful arousal dominated. Brett abandoned his private war of resistance and reclaimed what