Vegas Curves (A Masters of the Game BBW Erotic Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page B

kisses he pressed against my flesh swelled his lips, making them even more sensual. He lowers his head to my mound, nosing the plump and aching flesh through the georgette as he inhales my arousal.
    "Pretending?" Another kiss, his mouth centered at the top split of my labia, the fabric between us scratchy in a way that curls my toes and jerks my hips upward.
    "To want me..." Another contraction pushes fresh cream from my cunt and I sob at my body's capitulation. He saw my tears in his penthouse but I have not cried like this in front of anyone for six years. It is wild and raw and I have no chance of containing it.
    "Shhh." He grabs my hand, squeezing it roughly as he brings it to his lips. "Don't cry, baby. I stopped -- see?"
    I twist on the couch, maneuvering until my legs are drawn tight against the rest of my body. It takes me a few more minutes of rough hiccups and hiding my face against the cushion before I can speak again.
    "Can't someone else ask me these questions?"
    I am peeking at him just enough that I can see his expression shoot from contrite to frowning. "I can't have Tony do it, not after how he handled Tommy and you."
    "Vincent--"
    The frown deepens to a scowl, freezing the suggestion at the tip of my tongue. He swipes a hand along his bristled cheek, muttering something that sounds Italian. He stands to pace the two-foot-wide strip of carpet between the couch and wall. Stopping behind me, he places both hands on the back of the couch, framing -- but not touching -- my shoulders.
    "I'm not leaving you alone with that bird dog, either."
    My gaze stuck on the lacy panties Luke peeled from my eager body, I say nothing.
    "Fine." He smooths my hair to one side, exposing my neck to his touch. Light as a feather, he strokes a line from the bottom of my ear to the top of my shoulder. "But after you answer his questions, you and I will discuss this pretending bullshit."
    He leaves and I scramble to put my underwear back on then straighten my clothes and hair. My entire body feels as if I am wrapped in a layer of electricity, every nerve ending exposed and tingling. Heat simmers between my legs and beneath my breasts, while the hard tips of my nipples feel like they have been coated in ice.
    I can't accept my reaction to Luke. This is not me, not who I want to be, not anyone I have ever been like. There has to be a better explanation for my behavior -- one that I can live with.
    Exhaustion.
    I draw a deep breath. Exhale. I have been up for more than twenty-four hours.
    Hunger.
    In the same period of time, I have consumed little more than a single slice of pie and water.
    Fear.
    Rose might die, Tommy and I could go to jail. Exhaustion, hunger and fear -- that and nothing more. I am not attracted to Masters, I am vulnerable. He isn't attracted to me, he is leveraging that vulnerability. Simple math -- I don't want him, he doesn't want me.
    Someone raps at the door, the knock confident and demanding.
    I gasp as if just born and drawing my first breath of air, then I answer.
    "I'm ready."
    **********
    With Vincent handling the interview, I recount the last two and a half weeks of my life over breakfast and tea service that arrives a few minutes after the questions start. I am not completely open in answering. I withhold some facts, those that will waste time or hurt Rose's chance of surviving.
    We moved to Los Angeles six months ago. Before that, I kept us away from cities where we might run into my father's associates. But work in the last small town we settled in dried up, especially for outsiders. So, faced with the choice of feeding and housing the twins or playing it as safe as possible, I chose food.
    I chose wrong.
    We had problems in L.A. from the beginning. Always hard to control, Rose disappeared for days at a time. She got caught shoplifting, the bribe to the store manager and security guard setting me back two weeks' pay. She played her music too loud in the apartment when Tommy and I were at work. Other things