Chosen by Desire by Kate Perry Page A

holding her shirt down to cover her ass.
    Max heard the shrill protest of metal bending. Looking down, he saw the rippled metal, melted by chi. He cursed, shoving it aside.
    It teetered unevenly before toppling over. As unexpectedly unbalanced as Carrie had left him.

Chapter Nine

    M ax stood at the edge of the ocean, his sword held out loosely in front of him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to clear his thoughts. He wiped away last night and his uncontrolled reactions to one woman with big innocent eyes and soft moans.
    He reached out with his chi the way Sun Chi had taught him years ago. He let
jn ch’i
gather at his core, build, and fill his body. He directed the flow out his arm and into his sword.
    The metal warmed instantly. He felt the familiar vibrations echo in his body until there was unity—until he and the sword were one. No beginning, no end to either of them.
    Usually, that was when he felt the most peace—when he wielded his element. But today restlessness drove him. And frustration. He hadn’t been able to sleep after his encounter with Carrie last night. He’d lain in bed, conscious of her in the next room, wondering if she was touching herself. Picturing her beaded nipples and imagining how they’d feel under his tongue. His chi pulsed in time to his need.
    With a low growl, he made a sweeping block followed by a slash—the opening move of his practice form. He methodically went through each movement, decimating imaginary foes at a brisk pace.
    When he finished, the energy still pushed him, so he launched into another form. He was just regaining his equilibrium when he felt someone at his back. Whirling, he swung the sword around his head and brought it down in a slashing cut.
    And then he saw Carrie, standing there looking like a teenager in her jeans and fitted hoodie, her loose curls dancing with the wind.
    It took all his strength to pull back from the strike. His sword’s jarring protest resonated through his body. He managed to stop an inch away from slicing her chest open.
    She blinked up at him with her guileless eyes, but her pale face told him he’d scared her. However, all she said was, “That was close.”
    “Close?” Anger overrode the horror of almost having cut into that soft flesh. “I almost ran you through.”
    “You have too much control not to stop in time,” she said simply. As if she knew him.
    Before he could yell at her that her faith in him was misplaced, he saw a bead of blood well on her lip, where she’d obviously bit it. The faint metallic tang hit him, calling to his element. He closed his eyes against it, willing himself to ignore its temptation.
    “Are you okay?”
    He opened his eyes and stared at her. A moment ago he’d almost killed her, and now he wanted to jump her.
Okay?
    Damn it, she didn’t even have shoes on. He glared at her, trying not to notice the way her pink-tipped toenails peeked from the sand.
    “You aren’t okay. You’re pissed because I interrupted your practice,” his doe-eyed nemesis said, fidgeting with the zipper on her sweater. “But you have to admit you practically invited me over.”
    “How is that?” he asked, knowing he did no such thing.
    “Well, it’s not every day you see a guy with his sword out on the beach. And it’s a big one.” Her eyes traveled over his scar, his bare chest, and then lower. Cheeks flushing, she quickly raised her gaze. “Um, your sword, that is.”
    His groin stirred at her visual caress, and he tamped the reaction. “What are you doing out here so early?”
    “Walking. Despite the milk, I had trouble sleeping after I left you in the kitchen. I just couldn’t help…”
    He waited for her to finish, but she just shook her head. For some reason he had to know what she was going to say. “You just couldn’t help what?”
    She turned to face the ocean, her forehead lined with a frown. “Coming closer to the ocean. I thought it might soothe me.”
    More effects. He studied her