Sure as Hell Read Online Free PDF Page B

teased and explored.
    His thumb made slow circular motions on her thigh, coming near to driving her mad. With one hand, she cupped his neck, pulling him in closer, deepening the kiss. With the other hand she reached down, closing her hand over him and urging his fingers higher, searching for a different kind of depth.
    His groan was all the encouragement she needed. “Stop the elevator,” she whispered, her tongue flicking at his ear.
    “There are cameras in the cars. Security.”
    She pulled away just long enough to meet his eyes. “I don’t care.”
    He slipped his hand up, his finger sliding easily under the edge of her silky panties. She felt her body tighten as his fingertip explored her folds. Then he pulled back, ever so gently, and kissed the tip of her nose.
    “I care,” he said.
    She wanted to protest. To rant and rage and beg that—cameras be damned—she simply couldn’t wait any longer.
    But there was no need. The elevator slid to a stop, and the door to their room was right there. She stumbled out, tugging him with her. They edged forward, their bodies so intertwined she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began. She wasn’t at all sure how, but somehow they got the door open. They tumbled inside, the scent of champagne and strawberries surrounding them, casting their hard-edged lust with a romantic edge.
    He kicked his foot back, and the door slammed shut with a resounding thud. That noise was like a cue, and suddenly they were ripping at clothes, pulling and tugging, lips joined, and skin touching.
    A few straps and buttons later, and Lucia found herself naked on the bed, this perfect man above her, his body as hard and cut as the statue of a Greek god. She opened her mouth to beg—to demand—but no words came. Instead, she saw the look in his eye and knew that all good things come to girls who wait.
    So instead of demanding, she let her head fall back on the pillow, then shivered as his fingers traced over her body, forming slow sensuous circles around her navel, then tracing down, down, down to tease her between her legs.
    She gasped as his finger slipped inside her, but the sound barely escaped, blocked by the pressure of his mouth on her lips. His tongue thrust deep inside her even as his finger mimicked the same rhythm and stroked her intimately. She lifted her hips, silently demanding more of him. She clung to his back, her fingernails digging into his flesh.
    He broke the kiss, but didn’t stop stroking her. Her body hummed, a tight wire ready to snap, as his mouth closed over her breast. His tongue danced around her nipple and she knew without a shadow of a doubt that this man would be the death of her—an amazing feat, considering her immortality.
    He nipped at her, teeth and lips teasing her, and sending a hot coil racing through her to find his fingers, still exploring her secrets. He stroked her in small circles, tensing and tempting and—
    Oh, sweet Hades!
    She couldn’t take it. Had to have him. Had to have release.
    And so she reached for him, her fingers twining in that silky black hair. She tugged him toward her, then nipped at his chin, his neck. And then, when she couldn’t take it anymore, she shifted her weight, and shifted him as well, rolling him over until she straddled him.
    He grinned, slow and satisfied. And completely unperturbed that she’d taken advantage of the situation.
    She pressed a kiss to the dimple revealed by his smile, then followed that with another to his chin, his neck, his chest.
    She stroked lazy circles on his chest, her fingers twisting in the smattering of chest hair. Enough to be masculine, and yet not too much. He hit, as always, the perfect blend.
    In fact, so far nothing about this man had urged her off her first impression—perfect.
    And, so help her, she was ready for a taste of perfection.
    She cast one simmering glance toward his face and saw the need building there. Good. Slowly, she trailed her kisses lower and lower, delighting in