Brave Enough Read Online Free PDF Page A

because the enticing glimpse of her mile-long legs will be hidden from my view. I console myself with the thought that I’ll get to see them again soon. With nothing covering them. With nothing covering
her.
    She smiles politely as I plate her spaghetti and offer her a piece of bread. Her eyes follow me as I pour her a glass of red, per her request, and then pour some for myself. I love that she’s not one of those women who pretends she’s not attracted when she sure as hell is. Something about the way she plays, even though I can tell it’s not necessarily her nature, makes me think she could match me in passion. Honest, no-strings-attached, down-and-dirty passion.
    â€œSo, where would you like to start?” I ask, loving the way her eyes widen the tiniest bit with her discomfort.
    She takes a sip of wine and then clears her throat before she responds. Very deliberate. I’m sure she was taught to think carefully before she speaks. I’ll break her of that if she’ll give me the chance. I want her to speak her mind, to tell me every erotic thought that passes through it, without even pausing. I don’t know why I want so much to see her inhibitions die, but I do.
    â€œWhat would you like to know?”
    I arch one brow. “What I’d
like to know
and what you’re
willing to tell me
are two very different things, I imagine.”
    â€œThen what do you think I’m willing to tell you?”
    I can’t help grinning. “So cautious. I’d love to see you let go. Do you think you might consider doing that, maybe just a little, while you’re here?”
    â€œI’m already letting go.”
    â€œHow so?”
    â€œMy parents would disown me if they saw me dressed this way.”
    â€œAnd what’s wrong with the way you’re dressed?” I lean back, using this as an excuse to openly peruse her body. She’s got an amazing build. Her round, high tits press into the purple knit material of her dainty top and her narrow hips and long legs are only hinted at in the thin, flowing black skirt with slits all the way up the sides. It would be so, so easy to push that fabric up, to press my lips to the top of her thigh . . .
    My cock jumps eagerly.
    Jesus! I have to quit thinking about that shit at the dinner table.
    â€œThis isn’t appropriate for an O’Neal,” she says mockingly in a deep, chastising voice, her eyes cast down as she looks into the bottom of her wineglass.
    â€œOhhh, I see. So, for you, dressing like a regular person is letting go?”
    She shrugs. “Sort of.”
    â€œNot much of a rebel, are you?” I tease.
    â€œUntil now? No.”
    â€œAnd what makes you a rebel now, besides the clothes? And having dinner with an incorrigible rake?”
    She grins and it brings out a dimple right near her mouth. Makes me want to stick my tongue in it. “An incorrigible rake? An
incorrigible rake
? Do you read historical romances or something?”
    â€œMaybe one or two.”
    â€œAre you joking?”
    â€œWhy so shocked? What better way for a guy to become acquainted with the thoughts and desires of a woman? Especially when said guy is a horny teenager. With a mom who has a stockpile of those paperbacks.”
    â€œSo that’s your trick?”
    â€œNo trick.”
    â€œYou think it worked?”
    â€œI could say you tell me, but a decent man would never say such a thing, now would he?”
    â€œOh, surely not,” she replies, the edges of her lips twitching.
    I smile. Damn, she’s fun.
    I clear my throat and try to redirect my mind from its current dissection of what it would be like to undress her right now, lay her up on the table and devour every inch of her creamy flesh. “So, beautiful, rebellious Weatherly, how long will you be staying with us?”
    â€œAs long as it takes.”
    Fun and interesting. “As long as it takes for