An Unlikely Lady Read Online Free PDF Page B

stroked his stiff organ, she marveled at the texture of him. He bucked his hips, fueling a sense of power and control she’d never felt before. His fingers tightened in her hair; his tongue followed the rhythm set by her hand, driving into her mouth, then retreating. And she thrust back, tasting whiskey and soap and man . . . oh, so much man.
    Driven by an insane need to touch him, she dragged her palm past the soft, wet hair that nestled at the core of him up to a stomach rigid with muscle, then glided up the tight, slick wall of his chest. How could she have ever thought him scrawny? Lean, yes, but hardly scrawny. There was no mistaking the solid ridges of muscle beneath her fingers.
    His kiss gentled then, his mouth no longerbruising, his tongue no longer aggressive. It slid across hers with maddening leisure, coaxing, teasing, tasting; magnifying her awareness of his power and her weakness. Then he drew her tongue into his mouth and. . . .
    Oh, God.
    Sensations swept through her in kaleidoscopic colors—the blue of desire, red of fire, purple of need . . . she plunged her fingers into his soapy hair, gripping the back of his head, if only to ground herself from the dizzying assault.
    â€œDamnation, but you taste sweet,” he murmured against her lips.
    He tasted like . . . a summer storm.
    Reeling, Honesty’s head felt too heavy to support, and fell back. He took that as an invitation to blaze a hot path down her neck with his mouth. Her limbs turned to liquid, her blood to lava. Her breathing grew so ragged she feared she would faint.
    â€œAnd your skin is so soft . . .”
    And his was so . . . hot. She’d go up in flames if he kept this up.
    But she’d die if he stopped. Everywhere his lips touched, her skin burned. Down the cords of her neck, along the ridge of her collarbone, across the slopes of her breasts . . . They strained against her dress, growing so heavy and painful she could hardly bear it. In a daze, she watched as he gave the scooped neckline ofher chemise a fierce tug; one breast spilled out over the top of her corset and eagerly filled his hand.
    His mouth latched onto her nipple and Honesty nearly came out of her skin. Her fingers gripped his slick shoulders, her leg lifted over the rim of the tub. She hardly noticed that the toes of her slippers dipped into the water, or that splotches of water stained her skirts. She knew only an intense need to be rid of the restless, aching feeling Jesse had created inside her.
    â€œEnough—I want inside you now.”
    The words, raw and determined, reached past the fog and slapped her like a sheet of cold rain. Honesty stilled instantly; she glanced down at the top of Jesse’s head.
    Oh, God . . . what was she doing ?
    Her mind spun back to the moment it all began. If any other man had taken such liberties, she’d probably have clubbed him over the head with the closest chair. But Jesse had the strangest ability to make her forget the role she played and remind her that beneath the sportinggirl guise beat the heart of a woman.
    Breathless, she pulled back, knowing that if she didn’t put some distance between herself and this tub full of temptation, she’d never regain control of the situation. “How about we take this to drier ground?” she suggested in a ragged whisper.
    His grip tightened. Eyes impossibly thick-lashed and such a rich shade of green they put mountain aspens to shame studied her with a twinkle of mischief. His hand swept under her skirt and slid up her stockings, past her garter, and curled around the back of her thigh, his fingertips mere inches from the damp heat of her. “What’s the matter, darlin’—afraid of gettin’ a little wet?”
    Honesty’s breath caught at the bawdy remark. She didn’t know whether to laugh or spit in his face. Alarmingly, she couldn’t find the will to do either. Oh, why did he