Wild Nights Read Online Free PDF Page B

bubbling up in the back of her throat. “Uh, you might be right about that.” Actually, that was exactly what happened with most men she met at the club. That’s why she rarely selected strangers and kept to men she knew, men she could count on to give her the release she needed, then discreetly leave. She didn’t have time for he-men shows of prowess.
    “I don’t think that’s what you need.”
    “You don’t.”
    He shook his head and stood, reaching for her hand. “No.”
    Curious as to what he thought she did need, she slipped her hand in his and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
    “Show me to your bedroom.”
    Bedroom? Now that was a first. She’d been taken on the couch, bent over by the window, on the kitchen counter and table, on the floor and across the coffee table—typically anywhere
but
the bedroom. In fact, if a helicopter from the
National Enquirer
were hovering by her picture window while she was being fucked, snapping photos for the next cover story, that would make the men who screwed her ecstatic. She was, after all, a prize and had to be shown off.
    Her bedroom was her private sanctuary. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually had a man in there. Entertaining was usually done in the living room, even with the men she knew. Yet she found herself leading Mike down the hallway to the double doors to her bedroom.
    He opened them and pulled her inside, flipping on the light.
    “King-size bed?”
    “Yeah. Just in case I want to have two or three people in the bed with me.”
    He arched a brow, then laughed. Okay, so he doubted she was serious about that. He was right—she wasn’t. For someone who enjoyed sex as much as she did, or at least as much as she had over the past years, she really hadn’t had much lately.
    Burnout. That had to be it. Too much stimulation for too long. Just like Mike had said—she’d seen it all, done it all, and it had lost its allure.
    So why was the simple act of holding Mike’s hand making her toes curl? Why, when he dragged her against his chest, did her heart slam against her ribs? She was hardly new at this seduction thing. Yet feeling her body pressed to his made her nipples harden and her breath catch. Being in his arms felt…right, felt good, stirred her into a rippling awareness of every movement, every touch of his fingers along her back.
    Why did the simple scent of his soap cause her senses to go haywire?
    Why did she feel a rush of panic when he bent his lips to hers? Because this wasn’t scripted, because she didn’t know exactly what was going to happen and how? Because so far tonight Mike Nottingham had proven to be anything
but
predictable?
    The brush of his mouth was a slow assault, not at all what she was used to. It wasn’t an attack, it was sweet. Just a whisper of a kiss—meant to entice, not ravage. He paused, his breath warm against her lips. Itwas a question. Mike was asking, not taking, placing the onus on her to make the decision whether to go further or put the brakes on.
    A millisecond of indecision crossed her mind. The way he made her feel was dangerous. She could stop and they could simply talk. She enjoyed talking to him.
    But why? When she’d wanted sex with a man before, she’d had it. She’d never been afraid of her feelings. Mike was a stranger. An attractive, sexy, compelling man, but not one she intended to see beyond tonight. So why wouldn’t she indulge her desires?
    She moved in and breached that last inch separating them, giving him her answer with a contented sigh into his open mouth. His lips were full and parted farther as she pressed her mouth over his.
    Grace kept waiting for him to tighten his hold over her, to slam her into the wall or pull her skirt up to slide his hand over her pussy or throw her onto the bed so he could press into her. He did none of those things. Instead, he rubbed his hands over her back, massaging the muscles there in light circles, his mouth doing slow, gentle, magical