Taking the Stage: Soulgirls, Book 2 Read Online Free PDF Page B

untouchable and she doesn’t show timidity.”
    “Timidity?” Roseâtre strangled on the word, the sheen of lazy satisfaction hardening to anger.
    Anthony’s lips curled upward. Gotcha, princess. “Timidity. She’s innocent. She’s untouched. She’s provocative. But she isn’t timid. She isn’t afraid of the cat.”
    “The maiden is far from timid. The pause is for effect, so the audience has time to absorb her exaggerated reactions, to anticipate it. Will she reach out? Will she allow her hand to touch him? Will she risk the possible loss of life and limb to indulge a foolish fetish to stroke a cat ?” Roseâtre bounced on the balls of her feet. Without her ridiculously unstable heels, she was slighter than he, barely reaching his chin. But the lack of height made her no less formidable.
    “Her foolish fetish , as you call it, is the nascent innocence of a girl unjaded by worldly prejudice.” He prowled closer, forcing her to tilt her head back to gaze up at him. It was petty, using his size to his advantage.
    Petty but effective.
    “What prejudice could she possibly have? She’s sheltered, hidden away, secured for her own good. The tiger is the interloper, thrusting himself into her world, filling her mind with forbidden thoughts and needs.” Her voice rose on the last note, her nimble fingers punctuating each word. “The tiger is impatient, pushing and demanding.”
    “He wants her.” Anthony’s voice went low. “It’s curiosity that brings him to that oasis, but what he sees, he wants .”
    “Wanting and having are two different things.” Roseâtre’s ire crashed against him.
    “Yes, they are.” To his delight, her pink tongue flickered over her lips, moistening them. Her face was flushed with the heat of their argument, her scent shifting subtly. His nostrils flared. Her desire was back .
    “So what are you going to do about it?” The double entendre of her question wasn’t lost on him. Anthony recognized the challenge, and the beast within him rose to accept it.
    “This,” he answered succinctly, snaking his arms around her, closing the gap to pull her against his body. Her soft, slender and fragile appearance belied a deeper strength, her body honed to the finest of weapons. He allowed her a single inhalation as his hands slid into that cascade of night-colored hair and his lips slanted over hers. Her teeth closed, denying him entry.
    He ignored the tacit refusal, settling for the slow massage of lip upon lip, goading her with gentle flicks of his tongue. Her rigid body softened, but her hands remained at her sides. He worked his way from one corner of her mouth to the other. The loosening of her jaw relaxed him and he settled in to nuzzle.
    When her hands curled up to his biceps, a throaty growl of masculine satisfaction vibrated his throat. Her teeth parted, an invitation. Anthony didn’t dare try his tongue against the wicked sharpness, continuing the slow friction of his lips on hers.
    Her nails dug into his skin, scoring against the haze of desire draping him, and he firmed her body against his, thrusting a leg between hers, allowing her weight to settle against his jean-clad thigh. The fabric rasped against his skin, denying him the more satisfyingly intimate contact.
    Her mouth parted fully and her tongue slid against his lips. Fire kindled in his blood, racing along to every extremity. He tormented her tongue with his own, stroking it, requesting, and then demanding admission. Her head tilted back farther, her hips rolling, rubbing herself against his thigh. He clenched the muscle, allowing her the pleasure.
    The woman in his arms was no maiden. She was pure, unadulterated seductress. She enticed, she tormented and she satisfied. His cock strained against the denim, desperate for more than the teasing brush of her heat as she rode his thigh.
    Her hands left his biceps, stroking across his shoulders. A glimmer of cool metal stung against the heat of her hands, but the long,