Cut Throat Read Online Free PDF Page B

mouth.
     
    The faint scent of urine wafted up to her nostrils. She struggled not to vomit as he grabbed her by the back of the head and pushed himself down her throat.
     
    She choked.
     
    He slapped the back of her head to remind her to tend to business, then let go of every thought but how good her wet, warm mouth felt on his hard dick.
     
    It wasn’t the way Paloma had planned on spending her birthday, but she made a quick mental adjustment and concentrated on the task at hand. It was decisions like this that had kept her alive this far, and since she planned on having many more birthdays, she saw no reason to fight back. Three
     
    Cat spent her first night on the road in what Art would have called a notell motel. As she was checking in, she couldn’t help but remember the last time she’d been this far south of Dallas. Then it had been an all-out race down highways and interstates, trying to catch Mark Presley before he left the country. Retracing the journey felt surreal. Even though she was once again trailing a blip on a computer screen, this time she was uncertain as to who was behind it. Bottom line, she needed to make sure the devil she’d thought was dead had not resurrected himself.
     
    By the time she parked and got to her room, she was exhausted. The furnishings were about twenty years out of style but clean enough. Once inside, she locked the door behind her and sat down on the side of the bed, wearily taking in her surroundings. There was a black velvet painting
     
    of a bullfight on the wall above the headboard of the bed. The bedspread was pink-and-green cabbage roses larger than the size of her head, and upon closer inspection, she could tell that the carpet wasn’t actually carpet at all but artificial turf. Cat scooted the soles of her boots against the surface and then grimaced, well aware that walking barefoot wasn’t going to be cushy. Her belly grumbled hungrily, but she was too tired to go looking for a place to eat. Instead, she washed her face and hands, lay down on top of the bedspread and rolled over onto her side. Just to rest. Just for a few minutes.
     
    The next thing she knew, it was two in the morning and she was still in her clothes. She rolled out of bed with a groan. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she kicked off her boots and undressed in the dark. Too tired to look through her suitcase for her pajamas, she crawled back into bed naked, this time beneath the covers.
     
    And she dreamed.
     
    He was behind her. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her neck.
     
    “Wilson…I—”
     
    When he lifted the hair from the back of her neck, she choked.
     
    “Shh,” he whispered, as he cupped her breasts and pulled her close against him, then rolled her nipples between his fingers.
     
    Heat shot through Cat so fast she gasped, then staggered.
     
    “Is that good, baby? Do you like that?” All she could manage was a groan.
     
    When his hands went south, Cat shuddered, then closed her eyes and let herself go. Wave upon wave of unbelievable pleasure began to build, adding to the aching, white-hot pressure already deep within her. Cat wasn’t accustomed to letting anyone control her body, but she couldn’t find the words to make him stop. The feeling was so good it was frightening, and when she heard Wilson groan, she knew she wasn’t the only one affected by their lovemaking.
     
    A minute passed, then another and another, while Wilson’s hands and mouth marked a trail of heat all over her body, leaving her almost blind with need. Then, between one breath and another, she began to burn and Wilson sensed it. Before she could think, he dropped to the side of the bed, pulling her with him until she was sitting in his lap, riding his erection.
     
    She wanted to turn around—to watch his face while they did it—but she was coming so fast she couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want it to be over, but she needed it to stop. And then she screamed.
     
    Cat woke up