Naked Read Online Free PDF Page A

of them come down someone else’s throat, and then used that thought to give myself an orgasm, but he didn’t know about that.
    “I’m Alex. Patrick let me crash here last night.”
    “I’m Olivia,” I offered, and waited for a reaction. Not even a blink.
    “It’s nice to meet you, Olivia.”
    He cleared his throat and shifted from foot to foot. His bare toes were as lovely as the rest of him. For the first time I noticed his pajama bottoms, printed with Hello Kitty faces, a faded pair that looked well loved and often worn. They covered more of him than my thigh-length T-shirt did of me, and I wished for a robe or at least a sweater, though I was no longer the least bit cold.
    I gave them a look. “Nice.”
    Alex laughed, staring down at his toes. The glance he gave me was amused, a little embarrassed, but not much. “Thanks. They were a gift.”
    The microwave dinged and I removed the container, holding it out. “You sure you don’t want any?”
    He shook his head, even though his tongue crept out to dot his bottom lip. “I think I’d better go with oatmeal.”
    I pulled a fork from the drawer and poked it into a dumpling. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to make me feel guilty because I’m not up this early to run a mile and a half.”
    His laugh sounded more genuine this time. “Hell, no. I’m not going for a run. Not in this weather, anyway. Or, well…not ever.”
    I swallowed a bite of delicious. “Thank God.”
    I went to the fridge again for some orange juice. Teddy squeezes it fresh and never leaves the pitcher empty. I pulled it out and offered some. Alex nodded. I grabbed a couple of glasses and set them on the table, then poured. His expression prompted me to check if I had something in my teeth or hanging from my nose.
    “What?”
    “Nothing,” he said. “It’s just…”
    I sat at the kitchen table and waved him to a seat, too. He pulled the glass of juice toward himself and sipped. I waited.
    “Just what?” I said, when it seemed he’d stalled.
    “Patrick didn’t mention he had another person staying here. That’s all.”
    “Ah.” I dug into another pot sticker, which shouldn’t have been so tasty washed down with orange juice, but was. “He didn’t tell me you were staying here, either. In fact, he said…”
    Both of us seemed to have come down with a case of bite-your-tongue-itis.
    Alex quirked a brow and sat back in his chair. The kitchen was warm, but he was shirtless, and goose bumps dappled hisskin. An image of myself leaning across the table to lick his nipples sent a flash of heat through me that didn’t come from the furnace chugging to life beneath our feet.
    “What? Tell me.” The man I’d seen last night at the party, the one in my room, was back. His voice melted, gooey caramel on soft ice cream. I wanted to lick it.
    “He said,” I told him, carefully not looking at him but at my food, “to stay away from you.”
    “Did he?”
    I knew my laugh sounded forced, but he didn’t know me. “Yes.”
    “Why?”
    I licked soy sauce from a finger and caught him looking, his eyes narrowed but not angry. Interested, maybe. Intrigued. “Because Patrick likes to make sure I don’t get into trouble.”
    Alex snorted lightly and drank more juice. “He thinks I’m trouble?”
    “Aren’t you?” It sounded like flirting. It felt like flirting, but I knew better than to flirt with a man who was into guys. I’d learned my lesson on that a long time ago.
    “I guess that depends,” he said. Then, “Yeah. I am.”
    We both laughed at that, somehow companionable in our assessment of his character via the conduit of Patrick’s warning. “I thought so. You look like trouble.”
    Alex’s fine brown hair had been carefully groomed last night to look like a mess, but now it fell in genuine disarray over his forehead and into his eyes. When he bent to stare at the table, tapping his fingers on it, his hair obscured his face. I wanted to brush it off his