Just A Little Fling. Julie Kistler

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ took another step. Her stocking foot slid on a pile of fabric lying right in her path. Although it gave her a moment of panic when she began to slip, she caught herself and then stood still for a second, trying to refocus her swimming head. Peering down, she also identified the nubby wool still cloaking her foot. A kilt. A black-and-red Mackintosh tartan, just like all the groomsmen had been wearing. Baker’s kilt.

      Okay, that wasn’t so frightening, was it? Exhaling a nervous puff of air, Lucie bent to quietly drop her purse and take off her boots. Oh, she wasn’t wearing any. Where had they gotten off to? She didn’t remember doffing her shoes, but she supposed she must’ve. Maybe she’d left them downstairs in the reception hall with her jacket. Oh well.

      At least her hideous kneesocks were easy to peel away, even if she was a bit uncoordinated at the moment. But it felt great to be free of the nasty things. She flexed her bare toes, beaming into the dark room.

      Picking up steam, she reached for the waistband of her skirt, but her fingers were clumsy and she couldn’t get the complicated little fasteners to work. “The hell with it,” she swore under her breath, popping hooks and buckles as she tore off the skirt, letting it pool at her feet on top of the groomsman’s kilt.

      Ah, that felt like heaven. She could breathe again! She wanted to dance on it, stomp it into the carpet.

      Now all she had to do was get rid of the rest of her confining clothes. Impatient, she ripped off her blouse, her panties and bra, throwing them carelessly aside. I am a wild woman, hear me roar! she sung inside her head. Happy birthday to me!

      Swinging her head, she undid the neat bun, releasing the full length of her red-gold hair to flow freely over her shoulders. Paradise!

      And now she was ready. Nothing left to do but…

      Wait a second. She scampered back to where she’d discarded her purse, pulling out one of the bright packets from the machine and closing her hand around it. Best to be prepared. Not that she and Baker were necessarily going to do that, anyway, but that was the idea, wasn’t it? If she got in with him wearing nothing but a smile, she had to expect a certain level of, well, intimacy.

      So…She extracted another foil square, clutching it in her hand with the first one. You never knew.

      Her heart was in her throat as she crept closer to the heavily draped four-poster. She slipped her free hand inside the curtain, feeling for anything. She thought she could hear him breathing.

      The rhythm of his breath grew rougher, more ragged, as her hand closed on warm, smooth skin. Oh, yeah, he was in there. The wooden bedframe squeaked as he moved nearer her hand.

      This was no time to be shy. Leaning inside the dark bed curtain, Lucie balanced one knee on the mattress. And her fingers stretched further, sliding over the firm ridges of his ribs, the strong expanse of his muscled torso. Her gulp sounded like a gong in the silent room.

      “Is that you?” she whispered, in a raspy, strange voice.

      But she knew, even before the words left her mouth, that there was no way in hell that chest belonged to safe, reliable Baker Burns.

      What was worse, she didn’t care.

      His hand closed over her wrist, grabbing her, pulling her off balance, hauling her all the way through the curtains and into the bed. She didn’t even try to regain her equilibrium, just went with the flow, sliding up his body, taking in the hard, slippery, intoxicating feel of him against her skin. A moan of pure bliss escaped her lips. Had she ever felt pleasure like this? Not a chance.

      Closing her eyes, she pressed closer, fitting herself to his long, lean body, rubbing just enough to make herself tingle from head to toe. So this was what a fling felt like. Like one big beautifully wrapped package that she got to keep opening all night long.

      Lucie smiled wickedly into the darkness. Oh, yeah. Happy birthday to me.

      IAN KNEW THE SECOND he touched her that this was no Feather. His brain was hazy and polluted by Scotch fumes, but not oblivious enough to mistake a living, breathing, vivacious woman for a pale imitation like Feather.

      Was he dreaming? But her skin and her curves felt warm, vibrant, incredibly real—too real to be either Feather or a dream.

      So who was she and where did she come from? He peered at her in the dim light, but her features were obscured by a long fall of hair, and he knew he’d never seen this body before. Who was she? His mind was foggy enough and his body turned on enough not to complain.

      As the long tendrils of her silky hair rippled over his shoulder and his chest, he felt small sparks of desire in its wake. He leaned back, giving in to the sensations. But the way she was wiggling against him, her hips meeting his, was already making him feel like a rocket, ready to launch, and he knew he had to slow it down. Fast.

      He reached for her, arching up, filling his hands with her hair, finding her sweet, wet mouth and plunging inside. God, she tasted good.

      Even better, she kissed him back hard, hungrily, ferociously, making more of those greedy little noises that were driving him insane. She was nibbling and sliding, tasting and rubbing, climbing all over him in her eagerness. He grinned against her mouth. It just didn’t get any better than this.

      With one swift motion, he rolled her underneath him, pinning her hands at her sides. She whimpered, edging up into him, teasing him with the feel of her soft, full breasts brushing his chest. He held himself rigid. “Whoever you are, lady, I want you. I want you bad. But are you sure this is what you want?”

      “Positive,” she said breathlessly. Slowly, she opened her hand, the one she’d been holding in a tight little fist, revealing two small, opaque packets, one red and one blue. “See? I came prepared.”

      Ian laughed out loud. “You hang onto those,” he murmured, bending down to press his lips into the slope of her neck, enjoying the unsteady pulse that throbbed there, the way she panted and shivered when he kissed her. “We’ll get to them.”

      Either her buttons were remarkably easy to push, or she was very aroused. He knew the feeling. Already, she was restless and impatient under him, but he had no intention of rushing anything or giving her what she obviously wanted.

      Instead, he backed off, barely grazing her shoulder with his mouth before he held himself away. His lids lowered as he gazed down at her. Beautiful. Whoever she was, this naked goddess who’d come calling, she was long and lithe, curvy and luscious, with pale, porcelain skin that glowed even in this faint light and a riot of hair spilling out in every direction.

      Ian smiled. Yeah, this was going to take a while.

      WHY DIDN’T HE hurry up? She was dying down here. Lucie groaned with frustration, writhing near the edge of the bed. She was melting from the inside out, and she didn’t think she could be any more wet, hot, ready. His clever, versatile mouth showed no mercy on her breasts and her belly, teasing her, biting and swirling, pushing her into this mindless, dazzled, semiconscious place, where all she did was ache for him, hate him, wait for him, want him.

      Why did he have to move so damn slowly?

      Finally, just when she thought she might expire from this terrible need, he slid lower. Lucie gasped. If she’d thought his tongue was skillful before, now she knew what it could really do. It could make her weep with pleasure. It could bring her hurtling to the top so fast she saw stars.

      She’d СКАЧАТЬ