Damian Read Online Free PDF

her naked body—and my hardness immediately returned.
    “Hello?” She broke through my thoughts. I blinked and saw her looking at me expectantly.
    “What?”
    “Um, you stopped responding. Are you okay?” She gave me a puzzled look.
    “Oh. Right, I was just—what can I get for you?” I looked away from her, trying to think clearly.
    “Sorry, I don’t need a drink, but can I use your phone?”
    “Oh?” That’s a new pick-up line .
    “Yeah, I need to call the landlord or a locksmith.”
    “Oh.” Okay, so maybe that wasn’t a pick-up line . “Is something wrong?”
    “Yeah, I accidentally locked myself out of my place.” She looked at me with an anxious look in her hazel eyes and I immediately felt a compulsion to help her.
    “Shit, that sucks.” I grabbed the cordless phone from under the bar table and handed it to her. “Do you have Roger’s number?”
    “How do you know Roger?” she asked and gave me a hesitant look.
    I laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not some psycho. He’s the owner of the entire building complex, including the bar. So he’s my landlord too. Plus, I also live in the building. Unit 605, in case you’re wondering.” I smiled at her suggestively.
    “Oh sorry.” Her expression relaxed. “I don’t have his number with me, so that’d be great if you could give me his number,” she said gratefully, completely ignoring my subtle invitation.
    She must have a boyfriend , I told myself. There’s no way she would brush me off like this if she were single.
    “Not a problem.” I dialed Roger’s number and handed the phone to her. I smiled at her—not my signature smile I normally flashed to a hot girl, but a genuine smile. I didn’t know what it was, but there was something about her that was comforting and real.
    “Thanks.” She took the phone and smiled back at me. There was a twinkle in her eyes and the way her lips moved when she talked that drew me in. It was hard for me to look away, and I felt a twitch in my pants in agreement.
    I watched her as she waited for Roger to answer, her hand absentmindedly removing some dried paint from her hair. I observed her in amusement. She seemed completely comfortable in her skin—something I almost never saw in girls. At least not the girls I usually met, and certainly not when they were in front of me.
    “Is he there?” I asked as I watched her.
    She shook her head. “I’m getting his voicemail,” she whispered to me.
    “Just leave him a message. He’s usually prompt about responding.”
    After she left a message, she handed me the phone with a look of despair on her face.
    “Hey, crying’s not allowed in my bar,” I teased playfully, hoping to cheer her up.
    “I’m not going to cry,” she responded defensively, but I could tell she didn’t believe herself either. “Sorry,” she apologized, “I’m not usually rude like that.”
    “Don’t be. You seem like you’re having a bad day. Can I get you a drink? On the house.”
    She smiled at me. “Thanks. You’re sweet.”
    I chuckled. “Trust me. There’s nothing sweet about me.”
    She cocked her head. “I’m pretty sure that the last time I checked I could think for myself,” she shot back at me, “and right now, you’re sweet.”
    I laughed. Damn, she’s feisty. I found myself instantly turned on by her.
    “Plus,” she continued, “weren’t you the same guy who helped me carry my ridiculously large suitcases up the stairs the other night? That’s what I’d call sweet.”
    She flashed me another smile, and I felt something flip at the pit of my stomach that had nothing to do with the hardness in my pants.
    “You’ve been warned,” I teased as I ignored the unfamiliar feelings that whirled inside me.
    “I’ll take my chances,” she said with a daring smile. “Besides, what’s life without a little bitter and sweet?”
    I laughed again and found myself liking her more with each passing minute.
    “So what will it be?” I grabbed an empty glass