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She hesitated, swallowed.  For the first time in years she felt the stirrings of passion.  He'd be gone soon.  Maybe a quick fling was just what she needed to finally move on after Ross.  Absolutely no expectations.
    He was a warrior, but he'd be gone, she wouldn't have to worry about losing him as she'd lost so many loved ones.  She could always believe he was alive and happy.
    He was also a caring man, a man who'd take care with her.
    A gorgeous man.
    After a big breath, she walked close to him, within her own personal space limits, though she didn't know what his were.  Tilting her head back, she stared into his eyes.  His pupils were round as a man, and widened as if he liked what he saw.  His nostrils flared and he smiled.  Like he enjoyed what he smelled, too?
    His hair was black and long and shaggy over his shoulders.  She reached out, hesitated, but her breath had quickened.  She could have sex with this guy.  She sifted her fingers through the ends of his hair.  Then rubbed a few strands.  Like no hair she'd ever felt before, a little coarse.  Not human.  Long as Gypsy's fur.
    He hummed so low in his throat, she felt the vibration of it more than heard the sound.  She wanted to touch the column of his neck, but that was too intimate, so she released his hair and slid her fingers along the line of his strong jaw instead.  No hint of a beard.
    He bent, and her gaze flew to his, and she saw desire.
    That matched her own.
    That inflamed her own.

Chapter Seven
     
     
    She tilted her head up as his face, his lips, came closer and closer.
    Touched softly, brushed.  Soft mouth to soft mouth.  Her mind spiraled away as pure sensation flooded her.  Perfect, tender kiss.
    Then she was yanked against a tall, strong body.  An aroused male body, the thickness of his erection evident against her...a little too high for her to rub where she wanted to.  And his lips pressed against hers and she opened to him and his tongue swept into her mouth and she tasted...man, this man, salty and with an exotic spice so unique, almost addicting.  Her tongue tangled with his, sucked on it to savor his taste.
    His large hands kneaded her butt, then lifted her to match her sex to his and whimpers fell from her mouth like soft petals of yearning.  She linked her arms around his neck.  Such a hard body against hers, so strong.  Something she found she missed.  She yearned for loving .
    Dearling , he murmured in her mind, and the intimacy of that slid right through her to her core.  She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his body, pressing her neediness against his large erection, showing him how much she wanted him.  Now.
    "Whee!"  For a minute she didn't comprehend the sound.
    "Whee, whee!"  Me too.  Me too.  Me too hug.  Me too kiss.
    Dak groaned and set her away from him, and as she weak-knee-wobbled to the couch and plopped down, she saw Favel climbing his uncle's leg.  Dak swung him up.
    Me too!   High little telepathic voice ringing in her mind.  Favel.
    "Hug," Dak said, and held the boy close.  "Kiss."  He gave the tiny mouth an equally little smooch.
    Favel giggled, turned in his uncle's arms and held out his own to Brandy.  Bran-DY hug.  Bran-DY kiss!
    "Excellent judge of women, boy," Dak said, his voice a little rough as he ruffled his nephew's hair and brought him over to where Brandy sat.
    She took the child and he stood on her thighs, leaning in.  She gave the small wet mouth a large smacking kiss.  Brought the baby in for a hug.  Then fought tears that he would be gone from her life in short minutes.
    Clearing her throat, she put Favel on the couch as she rose and went to where she'd set the items for the trip, held up the onesie.  "Diaper, too."
    With a grumble, arms crossed, Dak watched her get the baby ready.  Favel thought being diapered and stuffed in a onesie was a fine game, gurgled, chortled, accidently whapped her in the face with his little fist and made her ears