Karen Rose - Have You Seen Her?

She was perfect. And mine. Mine, mine, mine . His hands slid down her back and under her waistband of her gi . Down until they touched lace. Until they covered her ass. Until they yanked, drawing her higher, closer, bringing him deeper into her softness. Making her moan his name.

His name . He pulled back, staring at her face. Her eyes, dilated and aroused. Her lips, full and pouty from their kiss. Her cheeks, slightly reddened from the scrape of his beard. "Say that again."

"Steven," she whispered again, but differently. Playfully. Hirtatiously. Her fingers dropped to his shirt, to the button in the middle of his chest. Nimbly she freed the buttons up until she reached his holster and down until she reached the waist of his pants. Then her hands were inside his shirt, splayed flat against his skin, her clever fingers tangling in the hair that covered his pecs. He shivered from the pleasure. Her hands felt so damn good. "Steven," she whispered huskily.

It was his turn to swallow. "What?"

Her fingers butted up against the barrier of his shoulder holster. "Take it off."

He was already shrugging out of his jacket. "Why?" he asked, catching a bit of her playfulness.

"Because it's in my way." She pushed at the holster again with her fingertips, from beneath his shirt. She looked up through her dark lashes, making him want to gobble her up in one bite. "I don't think you want to get in my way."

He unbuckled the clasp and blindly let the holster drop. "No, I don't think I do." He drew a startled breath, when her hands began to move again, her fingertips brushing against his nipples. His cock jumped against her and her eyes widened. His throat worked as he tried to make words come. Any words would do. Preferably words that would make her say "yes."

"I want you," he murmured. Direct. To the point. Honest as hell.

Her eyes on his, her fingertips still brushing his now painfully sensitive nipples she said, "Yes."

Steven blinked. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, I know." Her hands moved up to his shoulders and began to push his shirt off. "Yes, I want you, too."

Yes. She'd said yes. Wait . Steven shook his head and lightly grabbed her wrists. "Wait."

Her hands immobilized, Jenna leaned up on her toes and nuzzled his jaw. "For what?"

Her scent was in his head. He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. He shook his head again, dropped her wrists, and stepped backward. "Wait."

Her pouty lips bent in a frown. "Are you planning to run away again?"

"Yes. No. Hell, I don't know."

"I like the no answer better."

"You would." Steven raked his fingers through his hair, frustrated. With himself, with her. But mostly with himself. "I'm sorry, Jenna, this is just too fast."

She huffed out a breath and looked up at the ceiling. "I don't believe this is happening." She turned and walked to the dining room, clutching the back of one of the chairs with a grip so tight Steven could see her knuckles whiten from ten feet away. "What's wrong, Steven? Is it me?"

He was across the room in less than a second, pulling her around to face him. "No, it is not you. Not the way you're asking anyway."

'Then in just which way?" she asked and he was appalled to see tears in her eyes.

Panic gripped his gut where lust had been only moments before. "Oh, God, Jenna, don't cry. Please." She jerked out of his arms and turned her back again, crossing her arms tightly across her breasts. She's been through so much tonight , he thought. That he'd made it worse wrenched at him. "Please, sweetheart, don't cry."

She sniffled and he knew it was too late. "I'll cry if I want to," she said, sounding very much like a little girl instead of the strong woman he knew her to be. "And you can't stop me."

He smiled, his own emotion swinging back to tenderness. "You sound like Nicky."

Her shoulders heaved and his smile disappeared. "I know," she muttered. "This sucks."

"What sucks?" he asked carefully.

"My whole life. Friends and family who won't rest until I'm married. Crazy teenagers trying to kill me, and now my best friend is in ICU." She wheeled around, tears streaking her face, still easily the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. "And then there's you."

Steven tilted his head forward. Carefully. "Me?"

Jenna took a step toward him, her fingertip jabbing into his chest. "Yes, you. I'm happy with my life. I have dogs. I have sports. I have friends." She jabbed harder and he winced but said nothing. "I didn't want you," she went on, her voice gaining strength. "I would have been happy as a spinster with cats. But can I be happy as a spinster with cats now?"

Steven didn't answer. He didn't think he was supposed to. He was right.

"Nooo," she said, on an obvious roll. "And why not? Because you woke up my hormones and now all I think about is kissing you! When I'm not worrying about crazy teenagers of course."

"Of course."

She glared at him. "You think this is funny, don't you? You think it's funny that all I want right now is to throw you down on the floor and have sex with you. Right now."

Steven swallowed. Audibly. "No, I don't think that's funny at all. Believe me."

She looked slightly mollified. "Well, all right then. Now what'll we do?"

Steven ran his tongue over his teeth. "I'm sure I have no idea."

"I need to walk the dogs," she said wearily. "You can go if you want."

Steven grasped her shoulders firmly. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll walk the dogs. Why don't you get something to eat?"

"Okay," she murmured.

When he came back from walking the dogs, one at a time, he found her sitting at the table, wearing an oversized T-shirt and eating ice cream right out of the container with a big spoon.

"I actually had something more nutritious in mind," he said, patting Jim on the head. Or Jean-Luc.

Jenna looked at the spoon with a philosophical air. "It's Haagen-Dazs Rocky Road," she said.

"Sorry, didn't realize Haagen-Dazs Rocky Road had been elevated to one of the four major food groups." He pulled out a chair and sat down at her table. "Jenna, I think we need to talk."

She shrugged and looked away. "So talk," she said and shoved another spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. She waved the spoon at him. "Go ahead. I'm waiting."

He cleared his throat. 'Truth of the matter is I'm flattered."

"Oh, God," she groaned. "Not the I'm-flattered speech."

Steven raised his brows. "You've heard this before?"

She shook her head and dug deeper into the ice cream container in disgust. "No, but I read."

Steven wanted to smile. "Well, I doubt you've heard it quite this way."

Jenna wanted to scream. Wanted to pull her hair and just scream. Instead she ate some more ice cream. "Whatever," she muttered, mentally preparing herself for more humilia-tion. "Just get it over with. I'm a nice woman and you like me, but you just want to be friends. Yadayadayada."

He took the spoon from her hand and stuck it back in the container. "Look at me. Please."

Jenna looked at him. At his beautiful brown eyes. At the body she still wanted. "I'm listening," she said.

He closed his eyes and she saw his cheeks heat. He was embarrassed, she thought, as was she. It was bad enough to throw yourself at a man, but to be refused… It was humiliating.

"The truth is, I want you more than I want to breathe," he said quietly.

Her eyes widened. "You do?"

He opened his eyes and glared. "I said I did."

She drew a breath. "Okay, I'm still listening."

"Good, because I don't think I can do this more than once," he said grumpily, which made her smile. He smiled then, too, and took her hand. "I have responsibilities, Jenna. Three of them. I can't just be bringing home a succession of girlfriends that my kids get attached to. When I get involved with a woman, I need her to be the one."