Australia: Wicked Mistresses: Fired Waitress, Hired Mistress / His Mistress for a Million / Friday Night Mistress. Robyn GradyЧитать онлайн книгу.
his mouth irrevocably claiming hers. But not in a gulping, feverish fashion. More with the finesse of a man who knew what women liked. What this woman needed.
His slightly roughened palm trailed down her neck. His thumb rested in the hollow of her beating throat before his touch skimmed down her décolletage, then slid to encircle her upper arm, coaxing her up and in. The suggestion of ownership in the gesture was unmistakable, as well as enthralling—all the more so given the way his mouth worked unhurriedly yet intently with hers.
Her arms coiled around his neck and she pulled herself up, offering more, as delectable desire built and bubbled away—a steaming kettle ready to boil. She was physically, helplessly drawn to him, like a tide to the moon or a bird to blue sky. When his tongue probed deeper Nina whimpered with mind-tingling longing, and a strange sense of belonging seeped through her.
This embrace wasn’t merely great, it was fated. In this thin slice of time she wasn’t Jill’s sister or little Codie’s aunt. She wasn’t the pampered princess who’d once had everything, or the twenty-year-old who’d slogged her guts out to ace her journalism class. She wasn’t a magazine editor who’d found herself at a crossroads.
At this moment she was pure woman, hovering at the pinnacle of creation’s best ever kiss. She felt so fired up she could barely breathe—but, unlike during her near drowning moments ago, she didn’t want to come up for air. She’d much rather relinquish herself to her mystery man’s caress until she expired from exhaustion and sheer joy.
When his thumb brushed the outside of her breast she groaned. The sensitive peak tightened and her leg instinctively moved in. But the scratches on her ankle rubbed and, wincing, she jerked back an inch. When he pulled back too, the set of his jaw and refocusing eyes said he’d remembered where they were.
Oh, but this couldn’t end now. What were a couple of scratches compared to the chance to truly escape and float on cloud nine?
Her arm still around his neck, she tugged. “I’m perfectly fine—honest.”
His chin kicked up a notch. “You don’t know how much I’d like to believe that.”
Her fingers filed up through the back of his hair. “Believe it.”
He set his forehead upon hers. “I’m afraid this, my dear, is not the time.”
She pouted. “Really?”
“Really, really.”
Sorry. She couldn’t accept it. Her hand snaked down and she drew a suggestive circle around his right nipple, smiling when the disc hardened beneath her touch.
Folding her hand up in his, he pressed his warm lips to the palm. “Doctor first. Advanced introductions later.”
“Maybe one more quick hello?”
He laughed, a gorgeous black velvet sound she would never tire of hearing. This guy had it all. Looks, charm, Herculean strength. Sure, he was a little overconfident, but, given the circumstances, after that kiss, she could find it in her heart to forgive him.
“Later,” he confirmed, and cocked an enquiring brow. “Maybe over dinner?”
Nina’s expression dissolved into a walking-on-air smile.
Fate was so unpredictable. A couple of months ago she’d had the next ten years mapped out—work her way up the magazine industry ladder and ultimately secure a spot on a top international rag overseas. By that time Jill would have met the guy of her dreams and Codie would be a real little man. One day Nina had hoped to find her soul mate—someone who truly understood and respected her.
Then her life had landed in a dumpster.
From heiress to editor to wayward waitress. What came next?
When her Galahad sprang to his feet and dusted himself off, Nina sighed. The most amazing few minutes of her life were over. But there was always dinner tonight.
Or was there?
The clientele here seemed oblivious to everything other than their own over-inflated issues and comfort. They lived to compare carats over a leisurely back rub or two. Was this man cut from that same cloth? How would he react when he found out he’d been making love to the hired help?
And, if that wasn’t enough to dampen those dinner plans, there was always the resort’s staunchest staff rule. No socialising with guests. Ever.
His shadow crept over her a second before his strong arms scooped beneath her shoulders and knees. Jolted back, she pushed against his chest. “What are you doing?”
“We’ve had this discussion.”
“I’m not sure we came to any decision.” None that she’d been happy with.
“If memory serves, you called me a caveman, I beat my chest, and the matter was settled. Now, we need to hurry. Rain’s on the way.”
Folding her arms over her waist, she tried to weigh herself down—not that she wasn’t heavy enough. Nevertheless, he swooped her effortlessly up.
His white teeth flashed. “Light as a feather.”
Uh-huh? Veins were already popping at his temples. She could sense the strain in his arms. Why-oh-why had she taken that slab of chocolate torte back to her room last night?
“Put your arms around my neck,” he ordered.
“So you’re intent on doing this?” Giving yourself a hernia.
His response was a sexy wry smile.
She held his gaze, then finally exhaled. He was implacable. What choice did she have? She only hoped he didn’t keel over from a coronary before he’d finished saving her.
She was securing her arms around his hot neck when a light bulb went off in her head. “Hey, I’ve had another thought. You could make a tray out of a big banana leaf and pull me along. Like a snow sled, only on sand.”
His eyes narrowed even as he smiled. “No bananas growing here.”
“Well, you must have a cellphone. You could call for the helicopter to chopper me out. We could make a giant X on the beach with driftwood so they know where to land, and—”
Her words were cut off when his mouth took hers. And just like that the magic was in full swing again, drifting over her like tingling confetti as his kiss worked its spell and he urged her against his granite-like frame.
She dissolved into him. Melted completely. Of its own volition a hand wandered to the centre of his hard chest, fanned over the rock of a pec, then sailed higher, tracking the topography of the bulging cords in his neck, the sandpaper bristle of his firm square jaw. Only when his mouth left hers did the fog partly lift and she realised.
It was sprinkling rain.
Lifting her face, Nina blinked as another drop hit her cheek, then her arm. When he looked up too, as if waving a green flag, the rain came down in earnest.
She let go a shriek. Could her poor body take another beating?
But, while the rain fell in buckets, the water felt soft and revitalising on her skin. Perhaps it was her near brush with death, the lingering effects of that better-than-bliss kiss, or the fact that for the first time in weeks she felt truly free, but a jet of abandon surged up from her centre and a bubble of laughter escaped. Going with impulse, she shut her eyes and tilted back her head. When she opened her mouth wide, sweet rain filled her throat.
She gulped twice, three times, then, through the gauzy mist of rain, searched out his eyes.
Streams were coursing down his ruggedly handsome face, running off the tip of his nose. He studied her, his head slanted, before a crooked smile broke and he rocked back his neck as she had done. Laughing again, she joined him, and as he held her beneath the opened sky, she felt their strength restored.
Some quenching moments later he shook his head, like a dog after