Skin on Skin Read Online Free PDF

morning sun turned the ocean from dark blue to marine, he ran down the sandy stretch, ignoring the burning of his calf muscles as they dug into the soft sand.
    With limited privacy in the room, a run was the best way he could think of to eradicate the truly spectacular (if he did say so himself) display of morning wood he’d woken up with this morning.
    He’d known he was up shit’s creek the minute they entered the room at the Balboa Bay Club. All the suites were taken, Carly had explained, so they would have to make do with a regular ocean-view room.
    It was still the nicest hotel room Tony had ever been in. Expensively furnished and beautifully decorated in shades of sage green, the room had every amenity a man could ask for. From the fully stocked wet bar, state of the art entertainment system, and private balcony that offered an unimpeded view of the Pacific, the room epitomized luxury.
    It had only one glaring flaw.
    Only one bed.
    Lauren had shot him a wary glance as the bellman placed their bags on the luggage tray. As soon as the bellman left, Tony had indicated the overstuffed sofa. “I’ll sleep there.”
    “No way,” Lauren had protested. “You’re doing me the favor, so if anyone sleeps on the couch, it should be me.” She’d studied the bed, frowning. “Or we could always share the bed,” she’d offered tentatively.
    That stymied him. On the one hand, he knew a night in the same bed as Lauren, listening to her soft breath, knowing her sleepy warmth was just inches away, was guaranteed torture. On the other hand, some heretofore undiscovered masochistic side of him wanted nothing more than to sleep beside her.
    And she looked so worried, biting that succulent lower lip that he knew would taste like tart lime and rum, how could he hurt her feelings by refusing?
    “Okay,” he’d agreed. “Damn thing is so big it practically has two zip codes.”
    With that settled, the brewing tension had eased somewhat, helped along by a couple of beers from the minibar.
    Until Tony had discovered some additional nonstandard amenities in the room. The basket looked innocent enough, large and brown, made of woven wood. It even had a bouquet of flowers. The fact that they were those tropical flowers that looked like they had penises should have tipped him off.
    But the contents were anything but innocent. Sipping idly at his beer as Lauren channel surfed in search of the Giants score, he’d started rummaging through the contents. He pulled out the first item and dropped it as though it were a rattlesnake.
    “What the hell?” The pink rubber dildo bounced as it hit the carpet. Along with it were a pair of velvet-lined handcuffs, cherry-flavored massage oil, and a pair of panties with some sort of battery hookup.
    The image of Lauren handcuffed to the bed as he sucked cherry essence off her nipples was enough to make his cock jerk in immediate and violent interest.
    “What is it?”
    He carefully kept his back to her as she came up behind him. She gasped, startled, when she saw the unnaturally bright penis on the floor. “Oh, no.”
    She shoved him aside and dug through the basket, muttering and shaking her head. A few seconds later, she triumphantly held up a card and tore it open, mumbling, “I knew it.”
    “Dear Lauren,” she read, her voice ringing with exasperated disbelief, “I hope you enjoy the toys. I wasn’t sure what flavor Tony liked, so I picked cherry. It seems to be a universal favorite. Love, Mom.”
    “I don’t believe her,” Lauren moaned, sinking onto the bed, face flaming. Her mouth gaped and her eyes got wide, as though she were on the verge of hysterical laughter or hysterical tears.
    Humor was the only way out of this. Picking up the rubbery latex dildo, he shook it in Lauren’s face. “I think I may be insulted. Is your mom implying I can’t get the job done?”
    Lauren shrieked and fell back, giggling as she tried to escape the fake penis waving snakelike next to her nose.