By Request Collection April-June 2016. Оливия Гейтс
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СКАЧАТЬ it. Not simply on his mother’s behalf, either. He would like to have a brother again, not a memory overshadowed with guilt.

      Now, all the blinders had to come off. He hoped there were extenuating circumstances and that Christian would walk away from this debacle with his reputation intact. Maybe he and Annie had both been duped somehow, or Christian had been the one coerced by bookies. What a mess.

      His gaze fell on his briefcase, the files for Leanna Warner locked safely inside. In a way, he had known Annie longer than a few days. He’d studied her past, learned who she’d been as a teenager. How honorably she’d conducted herself as an adult. He knew her better than he did Christian. Tucker wasn’t wrong about her. No doubt in his mind. The woman described in those files was exactly the one behind the bathroom door. Someone like her didn’t suddenly rip off charities.

      She was, however, a woman to whom he’d promised a shoulder rub, and he was nothing if not a man of his word. He put away the iPad. The real world would suck them back in soon enough.

      ANNIE’S IDEA OF HEAVEN was made complete when Tucker took off his clothes. She’d even made sympathetic noises when he complained about how cold the bathtub rim tiles were on his ass as he settled himself behind her, his legs in the water on either side of her arms.

      But the true beauty of this moment of perfection didn’t hit until he began rubbing her neck. His technique was basic and effective. Mostly just hands on skin and pressing down on parts that hurt until they stopped hurting.

      Eyes closed and body floating on a sea of endorphins, she moaned as she let him have his way. It surprised her to find she’d been running her hands up and down his legs, because she didn’t remember starting. It was nice, though. He had great calf muscles.

      “Oh, right there,” she said, as his thumb went deep right next to her spine.

      “You should get more massages.”

      “I should also have my meals catered by Nobu, but that’s not going to happen, either.”

      He sighed as his magic fingers continued, sometimes gently, sometimes with true commitment. “Did you grow up in New York?”

      She nodded. “Queens.”

      “Ah.”

      “Lots of trains to the city.”

      “Huh. Where did you develop your love of horses?”

      “Books first. Then a pony at a birthday party. Don’t stop.”

      And he didn’t, until he’d worked out a particularly stubborn knot at the edge of her scapula. When he was allowed to move at his own discretion again, he said, “And after the pony?”

      “Central Park. They have stables. I started working there when I was sixteen.”

      “Wasn’t that quite a commute?”

      “For a guy from Dallas, you sure do know a lot about New York.”

      “Practically the whole world knows about New York. But I’ve been there quite a few times, and the foundation works with a sanctuary in Watkins Glen. I also do business with several companies that have their headquarters in Manhattan.”

      “Watkins Glen. I know that place.” She started to twist around but he urged her to stay facing forward. “They do a great job.”

      “They do.”

      “I worked at the stables so I could ride for free. I loved it. Loved them. I knew every inch of the bridle trail.”

      He rested his hands on her shoulders. “I never asked about what you did before Safe Haven. Were you working with horses?”

      She stilled, the euphoria of the last hour draining away, replaced with dread. “No. No horses. Just people. Who are much more complicated.” Squeezing his legs, she tilted her head up. “The water’s getting cold. What do you say we get warm in the shower, then crawl into that big king bed?”

      His smile assured her that her distraction technique had worked. She felt sure he hadn’t been snooping outside of regular curiosity. If he tried to find her on the internet, he’d find nothing—which in this day and age was suspicious in itself. the trick was to say enough without appearing cagey. She hated that she had to hide any part of herself from him.

      Thank goodness for the cold, because it let her hide her discomfort behind a fluffy towel and shivering. It wasn’t until he kissed her under the hot water of the shower that she was able to really relax. And to remember who she was dealing with here.

      He believed in her, and if that wasn’t the most amazing thing she’d ever been told, she didn’t know what else could be.

      She pulled him into a wet kiss, even though it turned out not to be her best idea, then continued kissing after they’d finished coughing. His hands were all over her, exactly where she wanted them, and now it was her turn. Not in the shower, though.

      After he shaved, he took over drying her hair. Dressed only in a white towel, he’d sat her down on the closed toilet and rubbed her gently but thoroughly. No man outside of a salon had ever done that for her before. There were so many firsts with Tucker.

      When he was satisfied, she’d run her fingers through the damp strands, knowing she would look like a scarecrow in the morning with nothing on hand to repair the damage. Not caring in the least, she led him to the bed, both of them naked and eager.

      He threw back the bedding, and they burrowed into the warmth of body heat and soft sheets.

      She ran her hand all the way down his chest, lingering over a nipple, his hip bone. When she moved slightly to the right, she found his hardening penis waiting.

      He gasped when she ran her finger from the base to the crown.

      “You were right,” she said. “It didn’t take long.”

      He rubbed his smooth, shaved jaw over her cheek. “That’s completely your fault.”

      “Really?”

      “Absolutely. I’ve been in trouble since we wrestled with Pinocchio. I’m sure you know that.”

      “I had a hint when we were patching each other up.”

      “Well, sure you did. We might not have smelled great, but we had chemistry from the start.”

      Grasping his shaft and learning the feel of him, she looked into his eyes, enjoying the effect her grip had on him. “You were very professional. Most of the time, anyway.”

      “Let’s not use that in the testimonials, okay?”

      She laughed, gave him a squeeze and slipped under the covers, wiggling until she’d lowered herself into position.

      “Oh, God,” he said.

      His voice was muffled, but not his enthusiasm. He grew harder as she started to stroke his shaft, slowly at first, learning, memorizing. She inhaled deeply, wanting his scent to imprint, against her better judgment.

      When she finally tasted him, a lick over the silky СКАЧАТЬ