Twister: Party Games, Book 3 Read Online Free PDF

“Piece of clothing, please.” He held out a hand, palm up, and Lachlan had to admire the man’s courage. It wasn’t everyday one found themselves asking for an item of clothing from the very person ultimately in charge of one’s career. The person who could destroy said career with just a word.
    But you won’t. Because you aren’t a prick with a God complex. You aren’t your father, despite the lust you’re feeling for a model. You do know how to have fun, you just don’t. And this type of silly, harmless fun is exactly what you need to get your mind off her .
    At the thought of the damned supermodel somewhere in his home, Lachlan toed off his boots and shot his best friend a quick look. “I’m going to make you regret this, Harris.”
    Mac laughed. “Can’t be anything worse than the last meal you cooked.”
    With a chuckled growl, Lachlan hooked his fingers under the waistline of his polo shirt and, in one single move, yanked it up over his head. The cool air flowed over his bare chest, pinching his nipples into hard points. He heard a few appreciative oohs , a wolf whistle and then Mac snatched the shirt from his hands before Lachlan could finish withdrawing his arms from the sleeves.
    His best friend laughed. “That’s my ruthless Media Mogul Balloon Boy.”
    The gathering horde let out another cheer, louder this time.
    The Twister referee cleared his throat again and turned back to the masses. “So, who’s game to take on the Lachlan McDermott in a game of Twister. One piece of clothing is all it—”
    “I’m game.”
    The throaty call came from behind Lachlan a second before a long, slender arm extended over his shoulder, equally long, slender fingers loosely holding something black and skimpy and bra-like. Except no bra Lachlan had ever seen was made with so little fabric. Or made his balls rise so quickly and his dick harden so painfully.
    Fuck.
    Kole stepped out from behind him. Her body heat caressed his bare chest as she slid past him, her unhindered breasts brushed his arm. Her stare held his for a fraction of a second before, with a curl of her lips, she crossed to Lachlan’s award-winning weatherman and handed over her bra. “I’ve paid,” she said with a seductive smile, and he couldn’t help but notice her nipples pressed against the flimsy silver strip of fabric she wore as a shirt. Her light blue eyes met his across the Twister mat as she slipped first one stiletto-heeled sandal and then the other from her feet. “Now, Mr. McDermott, let’s play, shall we?”
     
    Cameron wasn’t stalking Lachlan McDermott. She knew what it was like to be stalked and this wasn’t it. She wasn’t stalking him, she just couldn’t not follow him. Not after the way he’d kissed her. Not after the way her body had reacted to that kiss. She’d been kissed by many a man—and a few women—in her life. Sultans, princes, Oscar winners, Grammy winners, Nobel Prize winners, bad boys, good boys, hell, even a bad boy who turned out to be a bad girl but none left her feeling so…so…damn it, so shaken. Damn it, she was thirty six, but by the way her body was behaving after that one kiss anyone would think she was a teenage girl. Her palms were sweaty, her breath was shaky, her sex was fluttering. Fluttering . When was the last time her sex fluttered?
    And now here she was, handing over underwear to not just follow him but torment him? Because that’s exactly what she was doing. Tormenting him. He may have kissed her like no one ever had, but she had no doubt whatsoever he wanted to be as far away from her as possible.
    She wasn’t prepared for that.
    She wasn’t prepared for any of it.
    She’d come to Lil’s party to meet Lachlan McDermott and lust—that wholly unsettling emotion—was now turning her into a tormenting tease. Turning her back into Kole.
    Why? Because one man wanted who she used to be? Or had she never stopped being Kole? Had she spent all these years deluding herself?
    A room