Atlanta Heat Read Online Free PDF Page A

could feel the breath strangling in her throat at the thought of what her godfather had walked in on and the lecture he had given her hours later.
    “He didn’t have to see.” Macey’s voice dropped, the arousal that still burned in his eyes brightening as his gaze flickered over her body. “The position of my head was self-explanatory. And if you don’t stop pushing me, sweetheart, you’re going to find my lips there again, and next time, I won’t stop. Now, go shower, crawl into bed, and stop arguing with me. Arguing with you just makes me harder.”
    It made him harder? It was making her wetter. And if she didn’t get out of this secured basement that he called a cave and away from him, then it was going to make her jump feet-first into a relationship that she knew had the potential to break her heart.
    He didn’t want her, he wanted her body. He didn’t want her heart, he just wanted sex. And remindingherself wasn’t easy when he was standing there, his jeans straining with his erection, his gaze hot and hungry. She was terribly afraid that reminding herself was going to do very little good.

F OUR
    “ COME ON, WE BOTH need to get some rest.” Macey forced himself to ignore the hard-on torturing him. He had his pet snake to put away before she went to bed. Drack was his defense. It hated guns, and anyone with the ability to access his cave would no doubt be packing a gun. He didn’t think Emerson would appreciate curling up with a full-grown anaconda on her first night here.
    Besides, there was something in her eyes that pricked at his heart, that had him releasing her slowly and stepping back. Not exactly fear of him, but there was fear there, uncertainty, innocence. And the look didn’t make sense to him.
    He knew she’d had lovers before, he’d made it his business to know. He knew her medical history and the fact that she had lost her virginity between the ages of eighteen and nineteen.
    She wasn’t promiscuous, but he knew she wasn’t a prude. Unfortunately, she might be too damnedinnocent for the likes of him, because the things he wanted to do with her would have had a call girl blushing.
    She didn’t speak as he turned away and opened the bedroom door. Flipping the lights on, Macey had to clench his teeth against the sight of the huge bed across the room: plenty large enough for two people to play some hellaciously erotic games on.
    Dumb thought
, he told himself, shaking his head as he felt her move into the room cautiously.
    Striding to the walk-in closet, he pulled one of his t-shirts from one of the drawers built in beneath the hanging clothes. From another drawer he pulled free a pair of his sister Stacey’s cotton leggings. She was always leaving clothes scattered around the upper level of the house.
    Moving from the closet he glanced at where Emerson stood in the center of the room, staring around it, resignation filling her face.
    She might as well resign herself to it. Other than the bolt hole, this place was locked up tighter than Fort Knox. There was no getting in and no getting out without his help.
    “Shower’s in here.” He moved to the door at the far end of the room, opened it, and flipped the lights on. “Towels and washrags are under the sink, fresh soap, both bar and that shower gel gunk my sister likes, is on the shelf beside the tub. Get whatever you need.”
    “Now you have a sister, too.” She was leaning against the doorframe, looking around the bathroomwith hazel eyes that were gleaming a brighter green than before. “Guess you weren’t hatched after all, Macey.”
    “Guess I wasn’t,” he drawled, his lips quirking as he watched white, sharp little teeth nibble at her lower lip.
    She was nervous. He rarely saw Emerson nervous, and had never seen her uncertain, until now. Seeing it in her made him want to kill. It made him wish he was hunting terrorists with Nathan and drawing their blood. It plain pissed him off that Emerson would know so much as a moment