The Ex Factor Read Online Free PDF Page B

shoulders down to his trim waist.
    Jared scooted off the ledge and laid her atop the plush carpet. He opened his mouth to say something, but she pressed her finger to his lips. “Shh. Come here.”
    All the instruction he needed. He crouched over her, his kiss more tender and at the same time, more deliberate. He took his time moving down her body. As he explored her curves, she loved the way he teased up a thrill with nuzzles, kisses and licks. He seemed to instinctively know how to draw out the most pleasure for both of them. The slow unzipping of her jeans, he followed with gentle tugs. With them halfway down her legs, his tongue probed her.
    She wanted him to be naked, too, but her toes were inadequate to the task of helping him shed his clothes. With the exquisite tension building, she instead grasped his hair, legs locked around him, an anchor while he sent her reeling into bliss.
    He lifted up, eyes blazing with heat. After shoving his jeans down his hips, he lowered and guided himself into her. The sheer power of his muscles rippling across her, into her, drove her need deeper. She wanted him to experience the same incredible rush, so slid her legs down to straddle his thighs then arched her back. The move earned her an appreciative groan, and he pumped harder. She planted her feet on the rug and thrust, hips pistoning against his, mind and body on the edge of explosion. His intense grip on her rear signaled he was close, and his fingers dug in as shudders wracked his body. She stroked his hair, caressed his back until his breathing evened out.
    He eased away to look at her.
    She braced for him to jump up, make some excuse about something he needed to do. Another afterglow interruptus.
    Instead, he asked, “Shall I warm up the tub water?”
    “Yes.”
    This time, she didn’t mind when he lifted away, leaving her with a kiss before padding to the bathtub and bending to test the water.
    God, what an incredible ass. Sculpted, atop long, lean legs.
    Still bent, he looked back, hair swinging from his forehead. “It’s not too bad.” He swung a leg over, slid in, and held out a glass of wine. “Come and get it.”
    She couldn’t help but smile as she pushed up and sauntered the few steps toward him, loving the way he watched with undisguised appreciation.
    He raised his knees and patted the water. “I saved you a spot.”
    “Perfect.” In two long steps, she positioned herself there and leaned back against him. “Ah, the best seat in the house.” Absolutely perfect.
     
    ***
     
    By habit, he entered the bedroom and picked up the remote, then set it down. No television. No distractions.
    As he climbed into bed, she nestled against him. “So tell me, Mr. Director. Of any movie of all time, which do you wish you’d made?”
    A laugh escaped. “What’s this, an interview?”
    “No, an insight into the real you. What movie do you love most?”
    He ran his fingers up and down her arm. “That’s two separate questions.”
    “Okay, then give me two answers.”
    “Mm, let’s see. For the groundbreaking wow factor, great acting, and uniqueness—not to mention that it still has a strong cult following— Blade Runner . Course, I wouldn’t have turned down Fight Club or Pulp Fiction . Genius, all of them.”
    “And? In the category of most loved, the winner is?”
    “One movie? Out of all the different genres and generations?” He gave a long, low whistle.
    She wagged a finger. “Pick one.”
    He heaved a breath. “ Casablanca .”
    “Really,” she said in a tone a psychotherapist might use.
    “Why?” He couldn’t help sounding suspicious.
    “I find it interesting.”
    “Because?”
    “Yes, it’s a classic, text book, I’m sure, but it’s sentimental.”
    He furrowed his brow. “It’s spies and subterfuge.” And a tough hero and gorgeous leading lady.
    She poked his chest. “A love story, at heart. I pegged you as a techie nerd. Worshiping James Cameron for Avatar .”
    “Ten years in the