One Kiss In… Miami. Katherine Garbera

his demand, his hands reluctantly slid from her breasts across her quivering abdomen. The sound of the zipper of her slacks being lowered sounded as harsh as their breathing. He skinned the last of her clothing from her body, leaving her cloaked in nudity.

      It was Daisy’s turn to return the favor. She didn’t have Justice’s patience, nor his attention to methodical process. She yanked and tugged whatever came to hand, whether trousers or shirt or shoes and socks. While darkness enclosed them in a soft fist, she allowed her hands to be her eyes while she reacquainted herself with every inch of him.

      So much had changed. Not only was he taller, but broader. More heavily muscled. Deliciously ridged and toned. She’d love to paint him like this, to capture not only the incredible maleness of him, but that essence of intellect combined with potent masculinity.

      Her hand glanced off a ridge that wasn’t muscle, a long slashing tear across smooth skin. “Oh, Justice. You weren’t kidding about the scars, were you?”

      He stiffened. “It should be too dark for you to see.”

      “Well, yes. But I can feel it.”

      “Do you find it offensive? Would you prefer to terminate our lovemaking?”

      “Termin—” Daisy smothered a laugh. “Honestly, Justice. You’re so funny. I can always tell when you’re upset. You start talking in Basic Geek.”

      “I’m not upset.”

      “Then what are you?”

      “I’m …” He released his breath in a long sigh. “I’m emotionally compromised.”

      “It would be a little surprising if you weren’t,” she informed him gently. He didn’t reply, but remained still and quiet beneath her tentative touch. Did he think she’d walk away because of a few scars? He didn’t know her very well anymore, but he’d soon learn. “Let me show you how offensive I find your scars.”

      Ever so gently, her touch as soft and light as the sweep of butterfly wings, she pressed her lips to the first, tracing it from end to end. She located the next one and kissed that one, as well. And the next, until she’d found each and every one, created a road map of lingering caresses across his body.

      “No more.” His harsh voice split the silence, as twisted and tortured as his scars.

      He swept her into his arms and carried her through the living area into the bedroom. A single light burned a pathway through the darkness, chasing away the shadows and haloing the bed in a ring of gold. He came down beside her and the warm glow skated over his work-hardened muscles and sank into the crevices lining his face. Pain lingered there, a pain she’d have given anything to ease. And maybe she could.

      Daisy reached for him, pulled him into the warmth of her embrace and adjusted her curves to accommodate his lean, graceful form. No question, Justice had become the panther she’d long considered him, sleek and trim, with an edge of tough, masculine danger. His skin rippled beneath her touch, the sweep of warm, taut sinew as appealing to the artist within her as the faint golden hue of his skin tones. His hardness pitted against all that made her yielding and feminine, creating an interesting dichotomy, one she could lose herself in. So why resist?

      This time when she mapped the pathway of scars, she did it within that merciless glare of light. She wished her kisses had the power to heal, that she could give ease and comfort to the rips and tears that had damaged not just his body, but somehow his heart and soul, as well. She anointed each and every one while he lay rigid beneath her, his jaw rigid and eyes squeezed shut.

      She had an instant’s warning before he moved, the quick clench and flex of toned muscle. And then he had her flat on her back, his arms planted on either side of her head, caging her. He held himself above her, his gaze marking her like a hot branding touch.

      “My turn,” he said.

      Not giving her an opportunity to reply, his mouth closed over hers, hungry with demand and intent. Sheer pleasure swamped her and she wrapped her arms around his neck, tugging him down until all of him blanketed her in endless masculinity. With a husky laugh that turned her insides molten, he slid his hands between them and traced her breasts, exploring every inch, shaping them, dragging those delicious calluses over and around before lowering his head to catch one taut tip between his teeth. Her breath escaped, sharp as an explosion while pleasure ripped through her.

      “Justice …” His name escaped on a cry, blurred with passion. “Do that again.”

      The last time she’d been held in his arms, had known his possession, it had been gentle and sweetly tender. Tentative. They’d been little more than children, filled with an insatiable curiosity and delight in the physical, yet cautious in that exploration.

      This time, it was so much more, their knowledge deeper, their desires fine-tuned. And they were far from children. In all the years that separated the two occasions, one thing hadn’t changed. The magic still existed between them. At his first touch, he revived some inexplicable connection between them that strengthened and intensified with each passing moment.

      Justice’s hand slid from her breasts and drifted ever lower until he’d found the welcoming warmth at the apex of her thighs. He dipped inward, a stroking touch, easing her legs apart until she lay spread beneath him, fully open to his gaze. The muscles of her belly and thighs rippled with pleasure, the feeling intensifying with each slow movement of his fingers. He took his time, driving her insane with his thoroughness. Heaven help her, but she adored thorough men.

      “Please, Justice. I can’t take any more.”

      “I hope you can take more, since I have plenty to give you.” Again, he treated her to that soft, husky laugh. So deep. So dark and delicious. So intimate. She heard the slide of a bedside table drawer followed by the muted rip and crackle of a wrapper. With swift, economical movements, he protected himself. “Let me give you everything I have, Daisy.”

      She groaned, her breath quickening, just as her body quickened, tightening with a desire so intense she thought she’d die from it. He levered himself above her, cupping her bottom and lifting her. He came down heavily, dipping into her liquid heat.

      With one slow stroke, he surged into her, filling her with steely power. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, angled her hips to take him more deeply. She wanted it to last forever, to cling to this moment and revel in it. Never had she experienced anything like this, not with anyone other than him. She didn’t understand it, didn’t need to understand. She simply embraced it and rejoiced.

      And then she couldn’t think, could only crack and splinter while she rode the storm with him, fragmenting into endless pieces as she embraced the wildness that exploded from beneath his impeccable control. With every thrust he sent her flying toward ecstasy, driven higher and further than she’d ever been driven before.

      It was a transcendent moment she’d only experienced once before and with only one man. This man. These arms. This same joining, even if years apart. Did he feel it? Did he sense the connection they’d forged once again? Did he realize what she did? She’d thought by having this night together that she’d finally be able to let her memories of him go. Instead, she’d discovered something far different.

      Somehow, despite all odds, they’d become one, and there would be no going back. From this moment on, she belonged to him, just as he belonged to her. And they always would.

      Nighttime wheeled by. Justice ordered food that remained uneaten. Started sentences that broke off, unfinished. Drew a bath that turned cold, forgotten. Instead, they tumbled into each other’s arms, insatiable. At some point they slept. He only knew it with any certainty because somehow night became day.

      He woke with a slow smile and a bone-deep certainty that his life had taken a turn, had shifted from one plane to another, and there’d be no going back. Not that he had any interest in going back.

      He glanced down at Daisy where she slept like the dead, curled against him so tightly they practically shared the same skin. She’d pillowed