Leather, Lace and Rock-n-Roll Read Online Free PDF

didn’t kiss your ass.
You want to find out why and change her mind.”
    “Gee-zus, Max, she’s a mark!”
    Max raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer.
    Hawke opened his mouth to argue then decided
against it. Max knew the score. Screw the assignment. Rachel’s
rejection stung. Not because she wasn’t interested – she was
interested, her body had betrayed her in that regard – but because
she wouldn’t give him a chance.
    Max pulled into the nearest parking space.
Hawke crammed on a baseball cap and dark sunglasses and waited for
Max to open his door. After Max circled the vehicle twice in his
routine check for anything unusual, they sauntered through the
front door of the office building.
    Max nodded at the security officer seated
behind a row of monitors and then steered him onto the waiting
elevator. Within the next 30 seconds, the heavy metal elevator door
opened, depositing them just outside a closed office door. Hawke
glanced at the nameplate. Newberry & Tremaine.
    Max gave him a sideways glance. “You ready
for this?”
    Hawke grinned. Nothing, not even a cold metal
zipper could keep him out. “Hell yeah.”
    Max grasped the doorknob, strolled into the
office, and then nodded for Hawke to enter.
    Two steps inside, Hawke stopped short when he
caught sight of an amazing heart-shaped ass covered in what
appeared to be red silk waving hello from the reception desk. Hawke
raised his glasses and looked at Max. Sorry sucker was zeroed in on
the same thing.
    Hawke replaced his glasses and cleared his
throat. Max grinned.
    “Hold your horses.” Muffled by the position,
the voice at the other end released a heavy dose of sass into the
room. “I dropped my earring and it rolled down here somewhere. Oh,
here it is!”
    As soon as the figure stood and faced them,
Hawke knew this would be an interesting meeting.
    The tiny blonde with the gorgeous rack
pocketed a gold hoop earring and gave her skirt a tug. “May I—” Her
voice suddenly broke in mid-sentence. “Holy cow.”
    Hawke flipped through his mental rolodex.
Karen? Kelley?
    “Cameron Tremaine.” She stuck out her hand
and grinned. “And you are Jaydon Hawke.”
    “Hawke.” He shifted and accepted her
outstretched hand, surprised she didn’t seem bothered that both he
and Max could probably describe her lingerie in great detail.
    “Okay, then, Hawke.” The devil danced in her
eyes as she flicked a gaze toward the back corner office. “Rachel’s
on the phone. She’ll be right with you.”
    “Thank you.”
    Cameron’s ever-present grin remained glued on
her face as she turned to Max. “And since you’ve already manhandled
me, I guess I should get your name.”
    “Max.”
    “Max …” she hesitated, obviously expecting
him to give his last name.
    “Just Max.”
    “Oh come on, big guy,” she taunted. “Even
prisoners give their name, rank and serial number.”
    Hawke wasn’t sure if it was the thought of
her panties or not, but his blood pressure rose a few degrees.
Nobody, women included, challenged Max. His size alone discouraged
it. Yet this one, petite, blue-eyed bombshell didn’t appear to give
a damn.
    “Behave, Cameron.”
    Another wave of heat rippled his skin as he
turned to see who dared tame the sassy lioness. Relief unknotted
his stomach muscles when he saw Rachel Newberry, the same dragon
slayer who had conquered the fiery jaws of his metal zipper.
    “Mr. Hawke, we meet again.”
    As he grasped her outstretched hand, Hawke
took a second to consider his strategy while his shaded eyes
bounced between the two women. Should he leave Max with Cameron?
His first thought was to reschedule, exit stage left, and run.
Except that Cameron stood between him and the door and there was
just something about her that, well, scared him. Instead, he waited
for Rachel to say something. But she didn’t.
    So he played it smooth and stroked the back
of her hand with his thumb. “Ms. Newberry.”
    She squeezed then extracted her hand. “Come
on