Hooked Read Online Free PDF Page B

Delbert wouldn’t leave until finished, so he went with him. Hot and cold water faucets turned on and off. Then the shower curtain slid on its hooks. The opening and closing of the cabinet. A flush from the toilet, or as her mother would say, the necessary.
    At last, they exited the bathroom.
    Meg turned her face to see if she could find a snippet of the porter’s shoes. As she did so, she practically choked on a bouncing puff of linen fuzz. Her sneeze came through her nose before she could stop it.
    â€œWhat was that?” Delbert asked.
    â€œI didn’t hear anything.”
    Meg held her breath as Delbert’s shoes filled her view once more. She began inching her way farther back to the bed’s headboard. As she did so, her upswept hair caught on a coil and tugged. She bit her lip hard to keep from crying out, but a small squeak escaped her.
    â€œThere it is again,” Delbert declared. “A sneeze before and now a yelp.”
    â€œThere’s nothing of the kind.” The man walked Delbert to the door and opened it. “I’m sure you have other guests to see to. Thank you again.”
    As Delbert wished him a pleasant stay, the door was closed midway through his oft-repeated sentence.
    Meg didn’t readily move. Her scalp throbbed where her hair had caught. If she could have, she would have lifted her arms to undo herself, but space didn’t permit such a maneuver.
    â€œYou can come out now. He’s gone.”
    â€œAh . . . yes, I know. But I can’t.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, you can’t?”
    â€œI’ve had a slight . . .” She couldn’t finish.
    â€œLet me guess.” He lowered again and stuck his head beneath the bed. She gave him her bewitching smile, the one she practiced in the mirror after brushing her teeth. Unfortunately it didn’t have the affect on him she’d hoped. “You’ve had another accident.”
    Frowning her disappointment that he didn’t find her divinely captivating, she mumbled, “Yes, I did. My hair is stuck and I can’t get out. You have to get me free. My hands won’t reach the springs.”
    She thought she heard him mutter an expletive as he stood. And it wasn’t anything close to “criminy sakes alive.”
    The towel fell on the floor in a clump, then moreshuffling inside bags until a pair of worsted trousers came into sight and first one leg then the other slipped into the dark blue trouser legs. He lowered himself to his knees again, then laid on his belly and crawled in toward her.
    This close to him, and in such a confining space, the scent of his bathing soap filled the air. El Soudan’s coconut oil. She’d know it anywhere. The traces smelled so good, she could almost taste him.
    She got that giddy feeling again when he reached for her and his fingers tangled in her hair. Explosions of tingles ran down her spine when he sifted through the hair and pulled out pins in order to take down the high pile. Her gaze remained fixed on the floor until she mustered the nerve to look him in the eyes. When she did, her breath caught and, at the same time, his hand stilled. He looked right at her . . . as if he were going to . . .
    She didn’t know. She’d never seen that kind of fire in a man’s eyes before when he gazed at her. That kind of passion and fire she read about but had never experienced. Could he tell she’d discovered paradise in his simple touch?
    As he resumed his task, his knuckles brushed her cheek. On purpose? She dared to hope that he had. He was very gentle. A few more carefully orchestrated pulls that separated strands of hair, and she was free.
    But neither of them moved. The moment seemed to be etched in time. She would never forget it. Whatever happened, she would always remember this as her first truly sensual encounter.
    In his eyes, she saw a war of conflict as if, despite his best intentions,