Brenda Williamson A Wicked Wolf (pdf)

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straightening up the workbench.
From heated kiss to cold disinterest, he kept her off balance,
defensive and irritable.
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I respect his privacy, and you should too. He sat on the stool
he pulled out from under the table.
She took a deep breath and said nothing. She watched him
attach two wires to a socket. The screw appeared too tight. When
he put force into the turn, the tool slipped out of his hand and fell
on the floor beneath the bench.
Would you mind? He held the wire in place and looked down.
Randi stooped below the table and crawled under it to retrieve
the renegade tool. Her gaze drifted to J.R. s open legs, and the
prominent bulge against his zipper. She followed the ridge it made
along the right pant leg. Would she ever feel anything as big and
powerful as his cock inside her again?
The floor had debris, but nothing compared to the clutter of
naughty thoughts in her head. With a little boldness, she could
open his zipper. Her mouth watered at the idea of nibbling his
shaft and licking his cock head while kneading his firm scrotum.
Kind of dirty down there, isn t it? he said, a touch of
amusement in his tone.
Not more than ten minutes ago, he d snubbed her advances.
She didn t appreciate his teasing innuendo now, and crawled
further under the table.
Snatching the screwdriver from the floor, she scooted back out
and rose. Here. She handed the tool to him. Where s the broom
and dustpan? she asked, brushing off bits of steel shavings, bone
pieces and dust bunnies she d collected on the second outfit she d
borrowed from the woman s wardrobe.
In that corner. He motioned to the other side of the room.
She crossed the room and picked up the straw broom. From
there she swept in short strokes, keeping the flurry of dust at a
minimum. When she glanced at J.R., she saw him stretching his
arms up and behind his head. The muscles in his biceps flexed. His
shirt fit the contours perfectly. He appealed to her like chocolate
sundaes and bubble baths. The urge to get down and dirty with
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him on the floor twisted her insides.
He went back to working without noticing her. She wandered
toward him, making little whisks over the floor. The scent of
animal, earthy and strong, came at her. It had to be the deer
antlers. She liked the smell. When having sex with J.R., she
recalled a similar fragrance and a musky hint of smoke. She
enjoyed the comforting uniqueness of his woodsy scent.
She shook off the fantasy and swept the room. Staying here
depended on going along with J.R. s rules. She moved even the
smallest objects to do a thorough job of cleaning. Her list of skills
had never included good housekeeping although she tried for the
sake of her two siblings.
J.R. said nothing. They were at a standoff, a battle of restraint
her not letting him see her glances and him not wanting her to see
his. Yet, he didn t do a good job of concealing his interest. Several
times, when she looked his way, she caught him staring, almost
salivating. Each stolen glance tortured her with longing to drop
the pretense and tell him just how much she wanted sex with him
again.
Eventually, the floor was immaculate. Without a reason to
linger in the shed, she moved to the door. I suppose there s
nothing else I can do in here. She glanced back at him.
She decided that this time his unresponsiveness was due to his
concentration on his project. The silence gave her a chance to re-
examine which she desired more, a chance to meet Mr. Wolfe? Or
to have sex with his employee again? The prospect of a failed
seduction kept her from throwing herself at J.R.
He sat very still, meticulously threading wire through the tubes
on the chandelier. He attached the ends to the sockets, clamped
sockets into place, and fastened the banding at the proper angle.
She wished he d pay as much attention to her, even if it meant
tying her up again.
I ll look for something to do at the house. Do you have any
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A Wicked Wolf
suggestions? she asked.
Her imagination ran with a best-case scenario. Him rising,
strolling over to her, and taking her into his strong arms. The
windows haven t been washed in a long time, he answered
without lifting his head.
Windows? She hated washing glass, mainly because she hadn t
figured out how to get rid of the streaks.
You want me to clean your windows? she replied, crushed by
his indifference. It s not even daylight yet.
J.R. slid off the stool and strode toward her, renewing her hope.
His nearness always provoked an attack on her sexual urges. She
wanted him with an unexplainable desperation. Even knowing he
loved another woman had not dampened her desire. He had
ensnared her senses.
He stopped within inches of her breasts pressing against his
chest. A step closer, and they would touch. The warmth of his body
wrapped her in a cocoon of enticing scents. Her head swam with
flashbacks of his powerful embrace when he d held her
possessively and made her feel like a cherished captive. Something
in his manner kept her from jumping him like a horny bitch in
heat. She didn t move a toe in his direction though her inclination
to do so grew stronger.
He glanced outside up at the sky.
See, still dark. She leaned, purposely letting her balance falter.
It won t be in twenty-five minutes. He gripped her upper
arms, holding her at bay.
She was rusty at seduction. Men usually wanted her without any
effort on her part. How did she work with a man who ran hot and
cold?
How do you know the precise time? she asked, shrugging off
her failed attempt at to attract him.
I know the night. His head tipped down and his gaze locked to
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hers.
The pitter-patter of excitement resumed. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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