Melt Into You Read Online Free PDF Page A

business meetings with the Bandini execs and the afternoon playing racecar driver with you. This is supposed to be a romantic first-anniversary trip for Amy, after all.”
    “So? Maranello is romantic!” Damon gestured at the grass surrounding the track, the jumpsuit-wearing mechanics, the asphalt and spare tires. “ Speed is romantic. Really romantic!”
    Sadly, Jason shook his head. “You’re woefully misinformed about romance, bro. Sure, speed is sexy. But slow is romantic.”
    “Sexy. Romantic. What’s the difference?”
    “About half an hour, multiple orgasms, and a lifetime of togetherness.” With that laughing pronouncement, Amy arrived. She grabbed Jason the moment his feet hit the racetrack. “I got an amazing picture of you, babe! Are you having fun?”
    Despite Damon’s dire warning, Amy didn’t seem like a woman who was about to quash her husband’s turn at Ferrari driving.
    Pointing out as much with a meaningful over-the-shoulder glance at Damon, Jason nodded. “Hell, yeah! I’m driving next!”
    The two of them embraced. Then they proceeded to full-on kissing, snuggling, whispering, and generally excluding everyone else. It was kind of their thing. Nonstop love-a-rama, 24/7.
    For one wistful instant, Damon gazed longingly at them. It didn’t take a genius-level intellect or twenty-twenty vision to see that what Jason and Amy had together was special. Really special.
    Damon had known Jason since ... forever. They’d shared skateboards and video games. They’d bonded over Transformers toys in grade school—and they kept a few (strictly as collectible items) even now. But even the choicest, rarest, most valuable Optimus Prime ’bot had never made Jason one-tenth as happy as Amy did.
    Hell, even calculating the trade-in value of Optimus Prime hadn’t made Jason happier than Amy did, and he was a genuine numbers nerd. He actually liked spreadsheets and formulas and profit/loss ratios. He thought it was fun to estimate his taxes. He understood every variable in his car lease, his insurance coverage, and the mortgage he and Amy had taken out on their tiny two-bedroom house in San Diego’s up-and-coming University Heights neighborhood. If it could be calculated, Jason loved it.
    For his and Amy’s wedding, Damon had treated them both to a trip to Hawaii, leis and all. Afterward, he’d promoted Jason to CFO of Torrance Chocolates. The promotion had been completely deserved. But it hadn’t done what Damon had hoped. It hadn’t brought his longtime friend back to him for the same full-time camaraderie and spur-of-the-moment carousing they used to share.
    “It’s not as though you two have been apart for years or anything,” Damon grumbled from his position in the Ferrari’s driver’s seat. With deliberate effort, he tore away his gaze. “It’s only been a few minutes since we roared down the track.”
    “Actually, your time was 1:47:00. A new course record.” Giada Bandini strolled up with a stopwatch in her hand. Next to her curvaceous body, the technical-looking instrument seemed twice as austere and about ten times less interesting. Giada was a brilliant and gifted businesswoman. She also would have looked right at home in a Botticelli painting. Flirtatiously, she swept her fingertips along Damon’s arm. Sexily, she smiled. “Not bad for an amateur. But if you want to improve your standings, I think I can show you a trick or two.”
    Giada gave him a suggestive glance, making her meaning plain. Damon didn’t need the clarification. He and Giada had spent the morning and part of the afternoon trading repartee, getting to know one another, and recognizing their equivalent interest in coming together ... on personal and business levels.
    “I already sent my associates back to the office,” Giada went on. “So for the rest of the day ... I’m all yours.”
    And I’m yours , Damon wanted to say, just the way his libido demanded. But this time, uncharacteristically, he hesitated.
    He