A Spartan's Kiss Read Online Free PDF Page B

going on in his jeans.
    Green eyes sparkling with mischief, she said, “Huh, well, that’s cool, as long as there’s no hard feelings, dig?”
    Before he could do more than open his mouth, she went on.
    Hand on shapely hip, she said, “Look, I’ll give you the lowdown, Sparkie. We work for money. Big money. We don’t take sides, and if you have something someone else is willing to pay us to retrieve? We do it. Now, if you’re willing to pay us to retrieve something that fits into that category, we’re willing to play.” She paused, eyeing him closely as if expecting a response, but then brought her hand up and started ticking off points. “We charge more if it takes longer. We charge more if we are harmed in any way. We charge if the item gets…well…destroyed. And we charge even if the item is not exactly what you thought you were getting. So if you’re game, and don’t hold any, you know, hard feelings over the acquisition of the item”—she grinned and tossed her hair off her shoulder and lifted a brow mockingly—“then game on, you dig? But you have to agree to our terms first.”
    He struggled to follow her unique logic, but stalled over what she was actually saying. She did this all the time—stole artefacts for immortals. The risks had to be enormous. But treating something as dangerous as a godhead as just another job? And her theft as a simple business transaction? Amazing.
    “Acquisition?” he asked.
    She walked over to his SUV, erasing the distance between them, and leaned a slender shoulder against his door, arms crossed and green eyes curious. Her eyes had a slight tilt at the outer corners, he noticed. Like a cat’s, he thought, as she mesmerised him.
    When he took a deep breath to calm his pounding body, he caught a hint of her sultry scent. She smelt like jasmine with a hint of peppermint. The scent reminded him of home. Perfect. As if he needed more proof she had his body on autopilot, his balls drew up tight and hard. His body felt nearly ready to burst from the one little whiff of her.
    She glanced away to examine her nails. He glanced down, following her gaze, and he clenched his jaw. She had slim, graceful fingers tipped with short black nails. He could picture—no, he could feel—those fingers running up and down his cock. He bet she had warm hands.
    After a heartbeat, she looked back at him. Her lips were shimmery, wet-looking with some sparkling glitter mixed in with the soft, plush lines. He wanted to kiss her. The urge was so powerful, he had to sink his ass deeper in his seat to keep himself still.
    She gave him a small but devastating smile and laughed softly. “Well, call it what you will, but… Hey, are you all right? You look a bit off.” She straightened, and he swallowed hard to get his throat working.
    “No, don’t go.” Gods help him, he might actually like the torture, because he didn’t want her to move one inch, except perhaps to climb in the SUV with him. Just that brief thought made him want to squirm, and he felt the head of his cock grow wet with pre-cum.
    He was way off. He’d not had a hard-on in decades, and now he was one second away from coming in his jeans. His body pulsed, hot, tortured and aching. All for her.
    “Uh, listen, if you’re not up to this…”
    Up? One look into her green eyes and he cleared his throat. Best she not realise just how up he was for her.
    “We agree to the terms.” His voice sounded like someone had rubbed his throat with sandpaper, but he met her eyes steadily, watching her closely to see if any awareness of his level of arousal filtered over her expressive face.
    “Okay.” She dragged the word out, obviously not believing him. And just as obviously, she was unaware of his condition. He wasn’t as relieved as he should have been. For one brief, wild moment, he wished she knew. Wished she desired him as much as he did her. Wished she would open his door and climb in, burying his burning body deep in her wet