Sinful Southern Ink Read Online Free PDF

out to make up for it. “Nope. If it’s important, they’ll call the house phone.”
    A thought occurred to him. “I remember something about a double murder in Jeffersonville a few years back but I don’t remember your name ever coming up.”
    “That’s because I changed my name before I moved to Clifton.”
    She nuzzled her nose against his neck and he prayed, for the first time in his life, that he wouldn’t get an erection while a woman sat on his lap, snuggled into his embrace.
    “What was your name before?” He shifted, trying to scoot his hips back in an attempt to put some distance between her ass and his dick.
    “Ashley Dearhart.”
    “Abigail suits you better.”
    She wiggled, her hip bumping his bellybutton and her thigh rubbing across his shaft through the thin material of his pajama pants.
    Fuck, I should have put my jeans on. Or at least some damn underwear.
    “Thanks,” she mumbled against his shoulder.
    “For what?”
    “For not asking a lot of stupid questions. For being there last night, listening to me today. For just…being you.”
    Those small hands of hers started a slow exploration of his shoulders, his upper back, down to his biceps. Without thought, he responded by slipping his hands under the back of her baggy T-shirt and rubbing slow circles on the soft skin he found there.
    She twisted further, her hard nipples pressing against the fabric of her shirt and taunting the sensitive skin of his chest.
    “Abigail.” His voice sounded low, harsh with need.
    She pulled back and he searched her eyes. If there’d been a hint of shame or worry there, he would have set her back in her own chair and waited for another time to pursue this chemistry between them. What he found in the dark depths of her eyes was lust, determination, and an oh so sexy hint of vulnerability.
    He gave into temptation and pressed his lips to hers, clutching her to him as if afraid she’d get away. Her tongue darted across his lower lip and he opened for her, happy to let her be the aggressor—for now. She must have used his toothbrush because under the sugary taste of coffee was a hint of mint. After a few tentative sweeps of her tongue, a dam seemed to burst inside Abigail.
    She speared her fingers through his short hair, a moan escaped her and she devoured his mouth with abandon.
    Impatient, he lifted her by her hips and dropped her back on his lap with her legs straddling his waist. He wrapped one arm around her ass and pulled her against the erection now tenting his pants until they both got the friction they needed.
    Damn, Abigail was soft everywhere. Not too skinny, just enough flesh on her that his hands were happy no matter where they landed. He smoothed his palms over the swell of her hips, grasped the hem of the borrowed T-shirt and lifted it over her head before tossing it to the floor. She wasn’t wearing a bra.
    Getting his hands on those perky, pale breasts and blush-pink nipples was the only thing on his mind as he looked at her bare chest for the first time. His mouth watered, wanting to taste the hard little buds on the tip of each breast. As he leaned in, thinking to wrap his tongue around one of those delectable nipples, she flattened her palms to his chest, stopping him.
    He froze, afraid he’d pushed her too far. When he met her eyes, he saw a devilish twinkle there that told him she wasn’t done with him yet.
    “I’ve been thinking about these,” she pinched one of his nipple piercings between her slender fingers and gave it a tug, “since the first time I saw them. Show me what you like, how to touch them.”
    He hissed in a breath when she gave both barbells a short, sharp tug. “Like that. Not too hard, but not too gentle.”
    She continued to tug and twist the shiny silver jewelry with a look of rapt interest in her brown-black eyes, her lips pursed in concentration and a sexy blossom of color over her high cheekbones.
    “Now, put your mouth on them. Suck. Pinch my nipple between